The great Australian character actor Richard Carter died on the weekend, aged 65. Carter was one of those actors whose name might not be instantly recognisable to the general public, but whose face certainly was.

He popped up all over the place in a career that spanned four decades – including TV shows such as Rake, Bangkok Hilton, Police Rescue, Blue Murder, East West 101 and A Country Practice, and a wide range of films, four of which were directed by George Miller – including Happy Feet 1 and 2, Babe: Pig in the City and Mad Max: Fury Road.

Carter’s acting career ended all-guns blazing, literally. His final – and absolutely unforgettable – performance was as the Bullet Farmer in Fury Road, a role he relished with almost unbelievably high-voltage intensity, delivering a gasp-inducing performance that blows your mind and rattles your bones.

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Who could forget the scene, around halfway through the movie, in which the Bullet Farmer arrives on his vehicle “the Peacemaker” – a lightweight tank fused with the body of a Valiant Charger – and takes off after Furiosa and Max? He is shot and instantly blinded but, undeterred, charges forward in his half-tank half-automobile, standing upright and waving an AK-47 in each hand, erupting into a maniacal singsong rant.

“I am the scales of justice, conductor of the choir of death!” he bellows, encouraging his colleagues to “sing, brothers, SING!” as bullets fly around him.

It is a quintessential, once seen and never forgotten performance, capping off with flair and conviction a long and impressive career. Clips from that scene went everywhere, including being screened at the Academy Awards, as part of Fury Road’s sizzle reel.

Having had the pleasure of knowing Mr Carter on a personal level (that was what he liked to be called; he referred to me as “Mr B” or “Mr Buckmaster”) I can say with certainty that he wasn’t just a cool guy, but a sweetheart of a man – kind, passionate, refreshingly unusual and thoughtful.

He was also very funny. Mr Carter’s slightly cartoonish face and larger than life presence proved well-suited to comedy. I am particularly fond of a moment from the first season of the TV series Pizza, in which, playing a police detective alongside the late Bill Hunter, Mr Carter’s character, due to budget cuts within the police department, must play both the good cop and the bad cop.

This leads to Carter, in the interrogation room, offering Paul Fenech’s character pleasantries such as tea, bikkies and tickets to the grand final, only to leave the room and return, cantankerous, as the bad cop, screaming and snarling and demanding Fenech beat himself up with a phone book.

The first time I interviewed Mr Carter, for a book I wrote about Mad Max, we spoke for three or four hours, about his acting career and much more: life, spirituality, standing up for what you believe in. He was particularly passionate about the subject of finding inner peace.

One of the stories Mr Carter told me recounted when, during the production of Fury Road, he walked with Miller across the sand flats of Namibia. The actor and the film-maker were “surrounded by one and a half million greater and lesser flamingos”, which was “the most awe-inspiring thing I think I have ever done in my life, apart from marrying my wife and the birth of our child”. He said he and Miller returned to the set “hand in hand. I felt like a king.”

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After our initial interview, I knew I had a new friend. I was so excited I emailed his agent with a giddily affectionate email of thanks. This email included phrases like, “it was much more than an interview”, “I have a new guru” and “Mr Carter has made it clear I can call him whenever, about whatever”.

I’m sure his agent won’t mind me sharing her reply, which sums him up well: “He’s an amazing man with an extraordinary mind.”

Carter is survived by his wife, Lindsey, and daughter, Amy.