Comic Book Movies 101: Conan

• 4th Mar 2011

Conan The Barbarian

As I start this piece, fans of Conan are preparing themselves for the long-awaited arrival of a brand new movie. It’s been a very, very long time coming and at this stage is one of the few continuing franchises that can be wholly forgiven for being a from-scratch reboot (it is, after all, over 25 years since the last one). We’ll have to wait and see how Conan 2011 turns out, but in the meantime it seems apt that as part of Filmwerk’s Comic Book Movie retrospective, we take another look at the film legacy the new movie is adding to and (hopefully) building on.

Firstly, I should mention that strictly speaking Conan is of course a literary character, not a comic book one. Author Robert E Howard’s books are the original source and foundation for all things barbarian. It’s safe to say that had no Conan comics ever existed then movie adaptations of the character wouldn’t have been a certainty. But Marvel Comics has run successful and popular Conan titles pretty much constantly for 40 odd years, and more recently, Dark Horse have also run multiple Conan titles very successfully. The idea of Conan then as a comic book and graphic novel character was fully formed more than a generation ago thereby more than justifying its inclusion in this retrospective.

This review focuses on the 1982 movie Conan: The Barbarian and also includes brief commentary on its ‘interesting’ 1984 sequel Conan: The Destroyer. Two very different and not particularly complimentary movies as we’ll see.

So, allow me the indulgence of winding the clock back and starting with the Austrian Oak, AKA Arnold Schwarzenegger. It’s hard to imagine a time when Schwarzenegger was well known only to those folks that followed the maligned and misunderstood sport of professional body building. The late 70s were a time where to most people he was either completely unknown or recognisable only as the skimpy trunks-clad, grimacing muscle man who advertised various exercise gadgets in mail-order catalogues. Thus, to understand and really appreciate the movie necessitates, in my opinion, at least a tacit briefing of its leading man at a time before global movie stardom, seven figure salaries and republican politics forever altered our perception of him.

It’s 1980 and Arnold Schwarzenegger, six-time Mr Olympia has come out of a four year retirement and pursuit of stardom to compete and win (somewhat controversially) the sport’s premier title for a (then) record seventh time. Before leaving pro-bodybuilding behind forever and heading to Hollywood to continue trying to forge a film career that hadn’t quite taken off yet, he’d had a few supporting roles here and there since his initial retirement after the 1976 Olympia, and of course gained exposure in the bodybuilding ‘mocumentary’ Pumping Iron. People remember films like Stay Hungry with Jeff Bridges and even comedies like Cactus Jack with Kirk Douglas, but proper lead roles still eluded him. That is until Conan arrived. Here finally was a lead role tailor-made for someone with his extreme physicality and chiselled looks. However, Arnold was still not the shoe-in you might expect. The decision to cast him was a big risk because at this time it was thought that his heavy Austrian accent would put people off and damage the movie’s box-office chances.

They needn’t have worried though. Arnie threw himself into training for the movie with the same vigour and determination he’d approached body building with and through sheer force of will became more than proficient at horse riding and sword play. He took great trouble to hone his physique with a smoother more natural look than that which pro-bodybuilding demanded. Throughout all this, he was also taking acting classes and elocution lessons to improve his English. All of which would be essential if he was going to give Conan a fighting chance of success. Remember that this was only the beginning of the 80s and Arnold was yet to become the poster boy for a new type of leading man, one that delivered a physicality and strength of character not really seen before. Conan director John Milius was famously quoted as saying “If we didn’t have Arnold, we’d have to build him!” and the point is well made. Arnold was the perfect man-mountain to fulfil the role of Conan onscreen, and his timing was perfect. And after Conan came The Terminator. And the rest is history.

One would have to assume that a movie adaptation of Robert E Howard’s best known character would have been something of an inevitability and only a matter of time before someone secured the rights. That someone turned out to be Dino de Laurentiis, and production began. The movie had its fair share of technical and logistical problems but ultimately benefitted from a director and star seemingly in perfect unison. And a vision that ensured the inherent silliness and excesses of sword and sorcery epics was kept thoroughly in check. Almost every minute of Conan sells itself on a refusal to accept or tolerate much of the usual tongue-in-cheek or camp nonsense. In fact, the film is almost unique (within the genre) in its attempt to deliver its story in this way. Again Milius was very clear on this point; he wanted the film to convey an almost historical feel, like it wasn’t fantasy at all.

Right from the opening prologue the movie sets a tone that on the one hand is vibrant and full of expectant promise (the days of high adventure!), but also embraces blood, muck and muscle in a deliberately gritty and often brutal way. This approach begins with the colour palette and film stock, delivering impressively down and dirty images, a sense of cold foreboding and brooding sullen strength as well as great heroism and honour. The attack on young Conan’s village is brutal and one sided, and after his parents are slaughtered by major baddie Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones), and his cronies, Conan is sold into slavery and ends up a forced labourer pushing the Wheel of Pain. A time lapse montage gives us the impression that Conan literally grows to maturity pushing this thing while all those around him have fallen by the wayside. Perhaps you have to be a certain age, but the scene where Conan (still pushing the wheel) lifts his long haired head and Arnold is revealed for the first time, illicits a small cheer and a stirring in my manly guts. It’s terrific stuff, and Arnold looked great, a real ‘woo!’ moment. The film then follows Conan’s journey from slave to hero via pit fighter, thief and warrior culminating in his eventual showdown with Thulsa Doom.

Throughout the movie, the elements of derring-do, high adventure and the comedic beats, are tempered with that brutal blood, guts, dirt and glory sensibility. The overall result is unmatched in its effectiveness. All the sword and sorcery movies that came after Conan (including the sequel), never struck the same balance. They opted instead for tamed-down violence (or worse, ultra-gory comic violence), ramped up campiness, silly costumes and ridiculous supporting characters. Strangely enough the two other similar genre movies released in ’82 illustrate this point quite well. The Beastmaster and The Sword and the Sorcerer are both noticeably more camp than Conan, and in the case of the latter Lee Horsley movie, adding more gore and an 18 certificate to the mix. Mentioning these other two movies also illustrates another unique thing about Conan; that’s the strength and quality of its cast and writing.

While the other film wore their B-movie credentials unashamedly and were seemingly populated mostly by hammy TV show regulars, Conan had James Earl Jones and Max Von Sydow, as well as a wonderful performance by Mako as the wizard Akiro. Even newcomers Gerry Lopez and Sandahl Bergman acquitted themselves well, with only Bergman really betraying a lack of acting chops in places.

In that infantile Top Trumps way we often used to compare superheroes as kids, we would do the same with fantasy movies like Conan. No doubt about it, Arnold was top of the heap. Just imagining him in a fight with Marc Singer (The Beastmaster) or Talon (The Sword and the Sorcerer) is laughable; Arnold had 23″ biceps, he’d crush these little men like bugs and… sorry, got carried away there for a moment.

Where was I? Oh yes.

Also adding to Conan’s effectiveness and quality is the wonderful score by Basil Poledouris, parts of which are still used by other filmmakers even now (I’m pretty sure I heard Anvil of Crom on Top Gear once). It’s a rich, majestic smorgasbord of themes, and is relied upon heavily to support a movie which is by design a little light on extended dialogue. The score is nothing short of superb and in my opinion a shining testament to a most unsung and under-celebrated composer. It’s one of those rare things; a movie score that can be listened to purely for pleasure.

Regarding the script, it’s still pretty tight, and is chock full of memorable quotes. One of my favourites being Conan’s prayer to his god Crom before the final battle with Thulsa Doom’s overwhelming forces:

“Crom, I have never prayed to you before. I have no tongue for it. No one, not even you, will remember if we were good men or bad. Why we fought, or why we died. All that matters is that two stood against many. That’s what’s important! Valour pleases you, Crom… so grant me one request. Grant me revenge! And if you do not listen, then to HELL with you!”

Great stuff! Where’s my axe and magic helmet?

Watching Conan again now is still a deeply competent and satisfying experience; everything holds together incredibly well. Arnold was a force of nature, the supporting cast are excellent, and the special FX still effective (just watch the scene where Thorgrim (Sven-Ole Thorsen) gets impaled by an ingenious trap set by Conan). It doesn’t get better than that folks. The movie looks great and has aged really exceptionally well, with very little to betray its early 80s origins.

So at this point let’s now move on to a quick summary of the sequel – groan! Deep breath…

Conan: The Destroyer

As you might have guessed already, I’m not a big fan of Destroyer. Released in 1984, I was 13 and excited as hell about it (after seeing it reviewed on Barry Norman’s Film 84 show). The original movie was already legendary to me as a hush-hush video rental, and at the time I was really excited about seeing the all new movie at the cinema. To tell the truth I loved Destroyer as a 13 year old lad, and it did reasonably well commercially too (although not as well as the first).

The movie shifts away from the original in several areas. It is by design noticeably less bloody and violent. Gone is the gritty historical tone, replaced with a by-the-numbers campy atmosphere and no sense of actual peril. The supporting cast are pretty much crap. Special mention goes out to Sarah Douglas (yes, her from Superman II) cast as the main villain: her wooden drama-school teacher style comes off badly, and doesn’t even begin to compare with Jones’ properly malevolent Thulsa Doom from the first movie. None of the bad guys have the muscle and brutish danger of Barbarian‘s Thorgrim and Rexor either. We have to deal with silly pubescent teenage princesses and even sillier comedy characters, like Malak who comes across like some Hyborian age Stan Laurel (where the hell is Subotai?). Then there’s the inert Bombatta and that most annoying of cast additions Grace Jones… what were they thinking? Grace Jones brings nothing to a movie except Grace Jones, and bad acting. Who wants that?

All this just makes the movie impossible to take even semi-seriously. Destroyer just can’t deliver on any but the most juvenile level at all. Add to this much more ambitious fantasy-based FX demands that the budget couldn’t deliver convincingly and it all starts to fall apart quite badly.

The best thing I can say is that Destroyer (despite all of the above), still manages to be a moderately enjoyable fantasy romp. It just bears almost no relation to the first movie at all, which is such a shame.

If I was to score them out of 5, I wouldn’t hesitate to immediately give Barbarian five stars, and more if I could. Destroyer only scrapes two and a half stars. Says it all I think!

Now, I’m off to go and crush my enemies, see them driven before me, and hear the lamentation of the women. These are after all the days of high adventure! And then there’s that pesky riddle of steel…….

Crom!

Ben Pegley