Conan the Destroyer

Arnold Schwarzenegger returns to the role that made him a movie star in this amusingly silly sequel. I should state up front that I'm not a huge fan of John Milius's sword-and-sorcery hit Conan the Barbarian, based on Robert E. Howard's fantasy character, but I still think it's an enjoyable movie for what it is. It excited enough young boys of my generation to merit a sequel, which producers Dino and Raffaella De Laurentiis made the same year they were tinkering with David Lynch's Dune. At the helm this time out is Richard Fleischer, a director known for big-budget classic sci-fi films like 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Fantastic Voyage, and Soylent Green. While there is no master thespian like James Earl Jones to support Schwarzenegger this time out, the cast here includes the iconic Jamaican singer/songwriter/model Grace Jones, basketball legend Wilt Chamberlain, prolific Japanese-American star Mako, veteran character actor Tracey Walter, Superman II's Sarah Douglas, fifteen-year-old ingénue Olivia d'Abo, and Indiana Jones stuntman/henchman Pat Roach. All of these folks are terrific in the movie, by the way. In fact, watching a fantasy film with actual human actors of such radically different appearances sharing the same physical spaces makes the last thirty years of CGI character design and motion-capture technology seem like a pretty stupid waste of time.

Of course, the story of this movie is pretty stupid, too. Conan is commissioned by the evil queen Taramis (Douglas) to safely escort a virginal teen princess (d'Abo) and her massive bodyguard (Chamberlain) to a faraway castle in order to retrieve the magic Horn of Dagoth, which will fulfill a sinister prophecy. The queen plans to have the bodyguard kill Conan and then sacrifice the princess once they have returned so she will inherit the kingdom. Along the way, Conan and his traveling companion, the thief Malak (Walter), are joined by the Wizard Akiro (Mako) and a fierce bandit warrior named Zula (Jones), who swears allegiance to Conan after he helps her out of a jam. Jones looks amazing in her costumes and is totally convincing in the fight scenes. In his only film role ever, Chamberlain carries himself well and has a surprisingly powerful speaking voice. (As someone funnier than me pointed out, it is hilarious that old 20,000 is cast as the protector of a young girl's virginity). Much of the joy in watching this movie comes from just seeing these five incredibly distinctive screen personas riding horses together in the same shot, to say nothing of watching them join forces to fight off armies and monsters.

Since my first time watching this was not until it was marking its 40th anniversary of release, I must say I came to it with very low expectations due to its poor reputation over the decades and the knowledge that there was no third Conan movie (unless you count De Laurentiis's cash grab Red Sonja released the following year). But while Conan the Barbarian is a better film than Conan the Destroyer, it's not that much better of a film. I saw this the same week I happened to see Gladiator II and couldn't help but see a few similarities. The original John Milius/Oliver Stone Conan movie isn’t pretentious or devoid of self-awareness about how silly it is, like the original Gladiator, but it still takes itself and its brooding, masculine philosophy a tad too seriously, whereas the Fleischer film is just silly, goofy, adolescent entertainment.

The picture also has a nice throwback look reminiscent of these types of films made in the 1950s and '60s. It was shot by the legendary British cinematographer Jack Cardiff, known for his distinctive work on Black Narcissus, The African Queen, and Death on the Nile, among others. While it's not in the same league as any of those pictures, at times, Conan the Destroyer recalls The Vikings, which Fleischer and Cardiff made back in 1958. The rousing score is, once again, composed by Basil Poledouris (Red Dawn, RoboCop, The Hunt for Red October). The story is by comic-book writers Gerry Conway and Roy Thomas—who introduced Howard's pulp magazine hero into the Marvel Comics world. The screenplay is by Stanley Mann, who was Oscar-nominated for William Wyler's creepy 1965 psychological horror film The Collector, but after that was primarily known for his somewhat cheesy literary adaptations like A High Wind in Jamaica, Damien-Omen II, and Firestarter.