Viking Night: Conan the Barbarian
By Bruce Hall
November 15, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com
But first things first. I say this all the time when I cover '80s fantasy flicks, but I’ll say it again, since it really can’t be overstated. The runaway success of Star Wars set the public’s imagination ablaze, and every narrow minded stuffed shirt in Hollywood clamoring for something - anything that was remotely steeped in fantasy. By 1980 it was so bad that Roger Corman could have filmed a crappy remake of Seven Samurai in space. With George Peppard and Robert Vaughn. And it would have gotten made. And it would have made a profit. Not that this actually happened, or anything.
For a time the Dino De Laurentiis movie machine was at the forefront of this movement, producing the poorly received Flash Gordon remake in 1979. In fact, well before this time, the prolific family had been behind an even more poorly received adaptation of King Kong in 1976, and the not-received-at-all debacle that was Barbarella, way back in 1968. By the 1980s, Universal was willing to bite on a new project involving a shirtless, hulking warrior who enjoyed hacking people to bits with a four foot broadsword. Dino’s daughter Rafaella was slated to produce, and hot shot writer/director John Milius would sit behind the camera. All that remained was to cast the thing.
Yes, the kids were gonna love it.
Or would they? The cast included an Austrian bodybuilder with a thick as marshmallow pie accent, a dancer, a beach bum, one former Ming the Merciless and the voice of Darth Vader. The script was a paint by numbers story of revenge, loyalty, friendship and multiple beheadings. The main character was inspired by a smattering of pulp fiction by a long dead writer from the 1930s. On paper, there was no reason to believe that any of this would work. Critics howled at the idea of casting a professional athlete in such a prominent starring role. Taken sight unseen, it was easy to believe that Conan the Barbarian would be half as much fun as Flash Gordon, and even less successful. Except that it wasn’t.
From the start, it’s obvious that Conan’s world is one of fire, steel and brutality. His father tells the young boy fantastic tales of vengeful gods, powerful giants and the Riddle of Steel - a code of honor to live by. “In Steel We Trust” seems to be the motto of their culture (as well as an alternate title for Judas Priest’s sixth studio album). Another good riddle to remember is that “those who live by the sword often die by it”. This is what happens when Conan’s pastoral life of blood and guts is shattered by invasion. The future barbarian witnesses the destruction of his entire village, as well as the incredibly heinous death of his parents. The marauders take the children away as slaves, consigning the best years of Conan’s young life to toil and misery. It’s a tough break, but that’s Barbarian Times for you.
Eventually Conan is given over from servitude into gladiatorial combat, where he quickly learns to kill without pity or remorse. The warrior code he learned as a child serves him well, and he becomes a legendary fighter. He also learns to read and write, paving the way for him to earn his freedom, which he soon does. Unsure where to go or what to do next, Conan stumbles upon the ancient tomb of a fallen king. He appropriates the dead monarch’s magnificent sword and takes it as a sign from the God of Steel. He vows never again to be a slave, and swears vengeance on the men who destroyed his home. This proves easier said than done; tracking down the guy who killed your parents when you were five is hard enough today. But in Barbarian Times there was no Google, and no GPS - both things that can put a serious crimp into the whole revenge process.
So over many months of travel, Conan makes many interesting acquaintances - man eating wolves, powerful female warriors, good natured thieves and a gum chewing crazy sorceress who tells him he is destined to someday be king. The sorceress he has sex with, before throwing her into a fireplace and leaving without breakfast (I get the idea there’s a deleted scene lying around somewhere). The thief (Subotai, played by Gerry Lopez) becomes his right hand man, and the female warrior (Valeria, played by Sandahl Bergman) his girlfriend. Together, they set about looking for the cultists who made Conan’s childhood a living hell. The man they’re looking for goes by the particularly kick ass name of Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones), and is the sadistic leader of a demonic cult. He and his men murder, pillage and destroy at will, filling their coffers with the blood and treasure of all they encounter.
Not an easy man to find, but that’s Barbarian Times for you.
And there you have it. Conan the Barbarian is really a basic basic revenge flick, thick with reverence for film school favorites like Seven Samurai and Alexander Nevsky. But it’s also more than that. Less like Battle Beyond the Stars and more like Flash Gordon, Conan is a contrast of modern style and a long extinct, far more epic way of making films. There’s no question that the De Laurentiis name is synonymous with excessively ambitious big budget epics, and Conan is certainly no exception. But where Flash Gordon and Barbarella successfully captured the tone of their respective material, they utterly failed to make it accessible to the intended audience. This is where Conan shines - so brightly that the idea of remaking it was almost destined to fail.
The reason is that the original film is such a deft exercise in managing expectations. It’s rather hackneyed, simplistic plot is buttressed by its sweeping scope. There is some terrific cinematography here and some very inventive camera work. What appear to be several gross examples of underexposure actually serve to enhance the film’s gritty tone, and therefore seem ingenious. Composer Basil Poledouris provides what is simply one of the finest soundtracks to ever accompany a film. Yes, the man who would later score Robocop and Red Dawn does the very best work of his life in support of a 200 pound weightlifter in a loincloth. Which brings me to the film’s rather unconventional cast.
I haven’t read much Conan, but the movie version seems softer than the literary one. For much of the film, he is motivated only by self preservation and the desire for wealth. He is a simplistic, passive oaf, rather than the brutal but savvy man of action he is in the stories. But Arnold himself is an incredibly strong willed, indomitable man - that, plus his incredible physique made him a natural for the role. You may be amused by his delivery, but there’s no question the Austrian Oak put everything he had into Conan, and it really shows. Similarly, Sandahl Bergman is anything but a natural actress. But she has the swagger, bearing and visible determination to play Valeria, if not quite the acting chops. Gerry Lopez is a professional surfer, and he can’t act to the point where they had to dub his lines. But every hero needs a best friend, and the man known as Mister Pipeline didn’t have to shine here. He just needed to have a few good lines and not steal the spotlight.
Well that, and kill a shitload of people.
They all do, in fact. The film’s violence is what I like to consider quaint by today’s standards. As many times as I’ve seen Conan, I can probably point out every single squib, blood pack, wire and barely hidden harness in the film. Really, the visual effects are all pretty obvious. But at the time, this level of carnage was considered quite shocking and excessive - Conan is a relentless orgy of death and dismemberment - and that alone is its greatest similarity to the source material. This also made the film a winner with the target demographic of horny, bloodthirsty young males. The extravagant visuals, wall to wall action, buckets of blood and countless jiggling breasts made it a profitable venture, popular with teenage boys and a perennial hit on home video.
Conan the Barbarian is a film that accomplishes precisely what it sets out to do, and then it grabs you by the throat and forces you to notice. Most of the major roles are so well cast that the actors don’t even have to try that hard. The sets are fantastic. The cinematography is unforgettable. The score is absolutely stunning. The stunts and fight scenes (while not always well choreographed) are spectacular displays of efficient savagery. My God, if you’re not ready to pick up a rock and kill something by the time the credits roll, there’s something wrong with you, not with the movie. In fact Conan is not a movie, it’s an experience. And it’s one that keeps on giving exponentially right up to the ending, which clearly implies a sequel. But that is a story for another time.
By itself and on its own, Conan the Barbarian is...truly...what is best in life.