Robot Revolution: The one Basil Poledouris couldn't save

 

 

Title: Cherry 2000

What Year?: 1985 (filming)/ 1988 (limited theatrical release)

Classification: Improbable Experiment/ Mashup

Rating: For Crying Out Loud!!! (1/4)

 

With this review, I’m continuing my survey of robot movies, and what is standing out is that I still haven’t covered several of the movies that made me think of this feature in the first place. This time around, I’m finally getting to one that I planned on all along. It’s a film that I could have long since fit into one of my other features, especially Space 1979 and No Good Very Bad Movies, but I have found it odd enough that I have continued to put it off until I could give it a more proper treatment. Now, I’m ready, and I’m not playing nice. I present Cherry 2000, a movie where actual humans die over a rich guy’s sex robot. And yes, they managed to waste Basil Poledouris in the process.

Our story begins with a middle/ upper class guy named Sam getting frisky with his wife/ partner while a dishwasher overflows. But it turns out the lady is a robot, and unlike actual robotic submarines built since the 1950s, she is not waterproof. After this tragic incident, only the bot’s brain is salvaged, so Sam tries to obtain a replacement body. However, it turns out that this is a post-apocalyptic future, and the only spares are in an abandoned warehouse in the territory of an actual warlord. The guy sets out on his quest, with the help of a rough and tough guide who also happens to be a very attractive woman. Bullets will fly, cars will chase, romantic tensions will rise, and it all comes down to… woman vs machine?

Cherry 2000 is a 1988 science fiction/ romantic drama film by producer Edward R. Pressman (see The Hand) and director Steve De Jarnatt, known as a writer for Strange Brew. The film starred David Andrews as Sam and Melanie Griffith as the guide “E”, with actress/ model Pamela Gidley as the bot Cherry and Tim Thomerson as the warlord Lester. The score was composed by Basil Poledouris (see the Starship Troopers and Conan the Destroyer soundtrack posts), following work with Pressman on the Conan franchise. The film was reportedly completed as early as 1985, but had its release repeatedly delayed. It received a limited US theatrical release in early 1988, which earned only a reported $14,000 box office against a $10M budget. It was released on VHS later in the same year, with possibly greater success. De Jarnatt directed one additional film, Miracle Mile, before returning to a career as a screenwriter and author. Pressman continued to produce films such as Masters of the Universe, Judge Dredd and The Island of Dr. Moreau, with his final film Daliland being released several months before his death in January 2023. Cherry 2000 is currently available on multiple digital platforms, including free streaming on Tubi.

For my experiences, this is a film I first heard of simply because it came up in the Poledouris filmography, and I never saw it mentioned spontaneously again until it was mentioned in correspondences related to this feature. As alluded, however, I had long had it in mind. Where it really stands in my skewed frame of reference is as the epitome of a category that only a reviewer could arrive at: Movies to play and half-watch while I’m working on something I deem more important. Needless to say, the characteristics of such things are unflattering but not exceptional, not good enough to make me want to give it my full attention, not bad enough to be actively annoying. (The Nest has been the archetypal example so far.) In the lead-in to this review, I gave it exactly that treatment. What came through all the more was that this is the kind of film that makes mediocrity far more offensive than actually “bad”.

Moving forward, most of what I could say would be on the same vein already stated. Outside of the bot, which is reduced to a Maguffin for the vast majority of the relatively slim running time, everything here is interchangeable and forgettable, which to me includes Griffith’s admittedly charming character. The toll is especially heavy on the score, which can make this absolutely painful. As I have commented (see my post on the Predator soundtracks), Poledouris is the one movie composer varied and creative enough that I have rarely if ever recognized his material during a viewing, but here, I finally recognized recurring cues (especially from Robocop) that are almost always far inferior to the works they tie into. In the midst of this, what becomes even more disappointing are the action scenes, which only made an impression with a surreal moment when the bad guys ride out on ATVs with bolted-on machine guns. What is truly baffling is that this film can’t even get to the “over the top”/ “so bad it’s good” level, which is the last issue one would expect from the people involved here. As a further corollary, the only fun to be had is from Thomerson as the truly unhinged warlord and his even more fractured submissive moll played by Cameron Milzer (apparently also in Chopper Chicks In Zombietown). This is a genuinely terrifying portrait of shared psychosis, and the source of many potential honorable mentions for “one scene”. (“No sandwich for him!”)

That leaves Cherry herself, and for all the noted limitations imposed by the story, she offers a fascinatingly nuanced picture of the domestic android and the implications and complications of human/ AI relationships. The one big “pro” is that the protagonist is actually developed and quite sympathetic. Whatever one makes of the bot and the perceived relationship, it’s quite clear that he views her as a person and feels real grief at the perceived loss. Of course, it’s also established that he has a lot of trouble relating to people not programmed to like him, which becomes an obstacle to sympathy when his quest starts getting real people killed. Even so, he retains enough moral judgment to avoid killing anyone who isn’t trying to kill him. It also has to be said that the real plot hole is why the warlord isn’t simply selling off the robots. When we do get a look at Cherry, what comes across is an entity that is neither anthropomorphic nor unsympathetic. There can be no doubt that she has no choice but to serve and satisfy her owner, yet it becomes evident that she at least has the benefit of emotional satisfaction from her master’s approval. There’s a somewhat cringey payoff when she tries going through her routines in the middle of a life-and-death battle, which could be evidence of rote programming but also a clear consequence of her lack of any frame of reference for the situation. Overall, it’s a picture of a dysfunctional relationship that isn’t necessarily “worse” than the human/ human pairs on screen. I can charitably allow that this point is reinforced when the bot and the moll connect in the epilogue, in a surreal moment that fits both characters. In here, however, it's too little, far too late.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with one of the few that has stayed in my mind across multiple viewings. Soon after the bot short-circuits, Sam’s friends take him to a bar in an effort to connect him with a real woman. Things quickly go awry as we see multiple interactions that are more transactional than romantic. It culminates with a meeting between a friend and an apparently interested lady, mediated by a third party (yes, that’s Lawrence Fishburne) who seems to have formal authority. The mediator spells out jarringly detailed terms for a prospective encounter. It’s a bizarre scenario fleshed out enough for the viewer to ask if this would be a viable alternative to our norms, at least until the lady brings up an “oral clause”. From there, things go south in a hurry. To me, it has always felt like nothing more or less than a glimpse of a far better film.

In closing, I have to reiterate that this one is just bad. It’s definitely the actual worst film to receive any consideration for this little future. In its own way, it’s among the worst movies I’ve ever watched, especially with “does this even count as a movie?” entries like Ingagi and Death Bed filtered out. By my usual refrain, I judge movies on a curve, and this is the kind that I find peculiarly insulting: It may not be “that bad”, but only because it is too polished to be inept and too unimaginative and unambitious to be offensive. What I find most telling is that even back then, the powers that be looked at this thing and effectively dumped it straight to the home video market. It’s the most fitting epitaph for a movie that squandered ideas, talent, and quite a bit of money. The one thing I’m happy for is that I can say I am done with this. Rest in pieces!

Image credit Metacritic.

Movie Mania: Most heroicest movie tracks!!!

 I'm two days behind on blogging, and I'm trying to hold down my fiction post count, so here's something a bit different. I'm doing a rundown of the most heroic movie score tracks, at least from the eras and genres of films I usually cover. Here's my list in top 10 format, with a bit of handicapping to avoid overrepresentation of composers or franchises.

10. Action Pack/ "Peter Changes His Mind", Simon Haseley, Dawn of the Dead-  I covered this extensively in my Dawn/ Day of the Dead soundtrack post and video. A tough-as-nails SWAT trooper contemplates self-termination, decides to kill zombies instead. It gets made fun of, and I have joined in, but it's a textbook case of cheesy/ "bad" music that really works. What could be more life-affirming than plowing through the undead hordes to literal football music?

9. "Klendathu Drop," Basil Poledouris, Starship Troopers-  The space troopers invade a planet of Bugs, get slaughtered. It's great music with enough of an edge to fit the themes. And the cover is, ah, different...

8. "Futile Escape", James Horner, Aliens- I couldn't avoid this one. The Colonial Marines make a fighting retreat from the xenomorph swarm, get picked off one by one starting with Bill Paxton. It's not as popular as "Ripley's Rescue", but it ups the game for a sequence that ratchets up the tension as things go from bad to worse. Also proves Horner could compete with the best on the law of averages.

7. "The Asteroid Field", John Williams, The Empire Strikes Back- The Millennium Falcon runs from the Empire through a swarm of deadly space rocks. The best incidental music from the greatest science fiction film of all time by the most accomplished science fiction/ adventure composer, and we're still not even in the top 5...

6. Star Trek First Contact/ Main Theme, Jerry Goldsmith- A showdown with the Borg is introduced with a surprisingly subtle opening. The composer of the "Next Gen" theme returns with a theme that's truly noble. Oh yeah, I wrote this one up for my Revenant Review ebook that I'm still waiting for someone to buy.

5. Conan the Destroyer/ Main Theme, Basil Poledouris- The second movie featuring the most famous sword-and-sorcery hero opens with an epic opening theme. You can argue whether the movie is better than the first one (it is), but the soundtrack is among the very best from an underrated composer. And see the movie review and expanded soundtrack post...

4. "Ride of the Firemares," James Horner, Krull- A band of heroes race against time to the evil overlord's teleporting castle on magic horses. The effects aren't great, but the music is epic. See my soundtrack post while you're at it...

3. "Building the Crate", John Powell and Harry Gregson-Williams, Chicken Run- Claymation chickens race to build an aircraft before their owner completes a machine to make them all into pot pies. It's a masterpiece of frenetic energy with real emotional weight. The moral in case you missed it, we're all the chickens.

2. Superman/ Main Theme, John Williams- The most epic theme from the master. Just because it's virtually impossible for the hero to lose doesn't mean he can't be awesome.

1. "Entr' Acte", Jerry Goldsmith, Patton- The high point of the soundtrack that convinced me that Goldsmith was as good as Williams. It's the essence of victory; what more is there to say?

And that's really all I wanted to do for this. Things like this are why I love movie music as much as I love movies. If anything, it may seem like I'm not being as eclectic as I usually am, but that's because the very best movies are the ones that tend to go above my radar. As an extra, here's an updated playlist covering most of this list plus a few surprises. While I'm at it, here's the one I'm proudest of (after the one that's literally one song), my Poledouris playlist. That's all for now, more to come.

Movie Mania: Predator soundtracks!

 

It's Halloween weekend, and I still haven't gotten the nominal Thursday post up. This time, I have something I was waiting on. In the last month, I ordered the soundtracks for both Predator movies (see my Predator 2 review). Here's a rundown on how they compare. First up, here's a pic of the original soundtrack and insert.

Now, I really need to back up. I'm as much a soundtrack fan as I am a movie fan, and I can boast of knowing all the major guys from the 1970s through the '90s by both their names and their work. As a further consequence, I'm pretty good at recognizing composers without looking things up or waiting for the credits. The thing is, it's a trick whose results vary. Just for example, it's not hard to recognize James Horner (see the Krull soundtrack post), who had a certain vocabulary of cues he would usually work in. On the other hand, I've never pinned down Basil Poledouris (see the Conan the Destroyer and Starship Troopers soundtracks), the composer I've come to praise most often and highly. The composer I've had the highest success rate with is the one behind these soundtracks, Alan Silvestri, otherwise best known for the Back to the Future franchise. Just among the movies I've reviewed, I ID'ed him in Death Becomes Her, and I had already known he scored Mac And Me. Looking through my files, I found more that he composed that I hadn't remembered: Judge Dredd, The Wild (you really can't win them all), and The Mummy Returns. I still wondered if there were a few I had left unmentioned, so I checked his filmography. I was a little surprised not to find any more.

Moving forward, the disc I have here is actually the second release of the Predator soundtrack, put out in 2010 by Intrada. To my surprise, it has never been released as a digital album, so prices can be quite high. I got it by making an unopposed bid to a seller overseas. As a further reminder, I don't generally collect these things because I'm some techno-Luddite, but because it is far too often the only way to get what I'm looking for. There's really not a lot to say about the music itself. If you know the movie or the composer, it's everything you would expect. It's a little under an hour and 15 minutes, which is at least good background noise for the buck. The high points go with the build-up to the action sequences, capturing a sense of mischief that runs through the composer's work. If there's a downside, it's that there is little to remind you where in the film it would be. The nifty extra is the insert booklet, which has the feel of what they would have done if this had come out in the 1980s. Here's a couple pics of the contents.

Next up is the second album, which did get a "vintage" release by Varese Sarabande, an outfit that released the first version of the Predator soundtrack in 2003. It's 45 minutes long, so not quite as much return on the investment, though it's not as expensive as the original, either. As I commented when reviewing the movie, the music is improved as much as it could be improved, with a cool Afro-Caribbean vibe. If anything, it ramps up a bit for the finale, showing that the composer was getting better. Here's a few pics.

And that's really enough for me. I love movie soundtracks, and this is from a guy whom I would have expected to cover a lot sooner. (Also, Silvestri is still alive and active.) He may not be on anybody's best list (I would count him as about number 5 for his era, and Williams and Goldsmith were already tied for 1), but his music is distinctive and genuinely fun. It's exactly what you would expect from good movie music and good music period. That's all for now, more to come!

Super Movies: The one by the guys who made Empire Strikes Back

 

 

Title: Robocop 2

What Year?: 1990

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

As I write this, it’s been a little over a month since my nominal revival of this feature, and I’ve been continuing to consider what I really want to do. I’ve also been reminded how often I’ve talked about such things and how irrelevant it usually becomes when I lay tings down outside my blog. So this time around, I’m just going to say that I’ll be reviewing a movie that was never really not going to be here, but just got lost in the shuffle. It will also stand out as a movie where the comic book/ superhero angle is unusually indirect (even more so than They Live), which to me has made it all the more interesting. I present Robocop 2, a sequel to a movie that probably ripped off a comic book by a guy who wrote comic books.

Our story begins with our hero Robocop back on the streets, hunting for the source of a drug called Nuke and the crime lord/ cult leader Cain directing the operation. Meanwhile,  the familiar rogues’ gallery at OCP are trying to create another cyborg, but their “candidates” keep literally self-destructing. Things continue to go downhill as the police go on strike and OCP proceeds with a hostile takeover of Old Detroit. When Robocop gets chopped up by the bad guys, however, he overrides his new politically-correct programming to go on the warpath. The aftermath sees Cain crippled, leaving his crazy girlfriend and juvenile delinquent lieutenant to spin a new scheme to leverage the city government. But the real wild card comes in play when the company’s cyber-psychologist decides to put the self-proclaimed Messiah in a new robot body!

Robocop 2 was the first sequel to the 1987 film Robocop, widely believed to be based on the character and comic Judge Dredd (see also Hardware). The project was pursued without significant involvement by director Paul Verhoeven, though writers Edward Neumeier (see Starship Troopers 3) and Michael Miner provided an early and largely unused script. The production proceeded with a script by writer/ artist Frank Miller, with Irvin Kershner (see Never Say Never Again) as director. Peter Weller (see Leviathan, Of Unknown Origin) and Nancy Allen (Strange Invaders) returned as Robocop and Anne Lewis, with Daniel O’Herlihy (The Last Starfighter) as “the Old Man”. Cain was played by character actor Tom Noonan; other cast included Gabriel Damon as Hob, and the late Galyn Gorg as Angie. The villain Robocop 2 was portrayed with extensive “go-motion” effects by Phil Tippett (all hail Phil), who had also created ED-209 for the original film. The soundtrack was scored by Leonard Rosenman, whose previous work included Bakshi’s Lord of the Rings, replacing Basil Poledouris (see the Conan the Destroyer and Starship Troopers soundtrack posts while you’re at it). The film was a commercial disappointment, earning under $46 million against a budget of up to $30M. Weller declined to return for Robocop 3, which was received very poorly. Kershner never directed another film, though he continued to  work in the industry; his final credit was as executive producer for The Lost Tribe, released several months before his death in late 2010. Gorg died of lung cancer in 2020.

For my experiences, Robocop was yet another 1980s property that influenced me without more than casual exposure to the thing itself. I can now see in it the backbone of the exotroopers, the Evil Possum, and especially Percy the robot cop. Yet, I’m sure that I couldn’t have seen the movie more than once or twice from elementary school to the start of college, and then always as the outlandishly bowdlerized network TV cut (which I still find in many ways more fun). On the other hand, I can very vividly remember encountering its pop culture trail, from the cartoon to the NES game to the live-action TV show. On top of that, I can now see its mark on still other things I knew and loved back then, like the psychotic TV series Sledge Hammer. It was in the wake of all that when I rediscovered the original film, still on TV and bootleg video tape. That finally inspired me to go looking for more, and what I came home with was a tape of the sequel. From all I can remember, I really liked it as well as what I had seen of the original, which is what I’m bringing to the table even now.

Moving forward, the foremost thing to say is that this is a clear case of a sequel being “different” rather than necessarily better or worse, which has left me all the more puzzled by the criticism and occasional outright hate it was getting both at the time of its release and since. What’s all the more curious is that there is a certain school that tries to pin the blame for the arguable and inarguable failings of the film on its departures from Miller’s story and script (evidently including Weller and Miller himself). Having considered among other things Miller’s own comic book treatment of his original script, I have to dissent that this is getting things exactly the wrong way ‘round. What’s in the movie, for better or worse, is exactly the libertarian/ anarchist  manifesto he intended, especially the very direct connection drawn between allegedly progressive “political correctness” and actual corporate censorship. (For that matter, Robocop 3 is pretty much Miller ramped up by a factor of Miller…) What I find to be the movie’s strength is that this is moderated throughout by good action scenes, engaging dialogue and intriguing character development, all of which I will definitely give the director at least some credit for.

With that laid out, the further pros and cons lie in what is done with the characters and the assumed world. The plans of OCP for Old Detroit have progressed, with even more overt villainy from O’Herlihy as the CEO. On the downside, there’s also more outright irrationality, and not solely in the scheme to use a criminal as their new cyborg. The whole scheme to drive up crime while driving the police to strike made a certain amount of sense as a short-term goal, but by this point, they should be either getting the cops on their side or replacing them (which is admittedly shown in both the comic and the threequel). On the other side, it’s debatable whether there’s anything new for Robocop and Lewis. If anything, Robo has the better arc, as he proves himself more willing to question OCP and more open to human emotion. By comparison, Lewis is just herself with a little more snark, without any sign of being affected by the heartrending ordeal she went through last time. A final good word is in order for the bad guys. The gang from the first movie were too feral for evil deeper than basic sadism. (If they were already raising the dead, why couldn’t we get Kurtwood Smith back?) The trio this time are nuanced, clearly intelligent characters with a complex and increasingly disturbing dynamic, and the kid is the most cunning and quite possibly the most dangerous of them all. This is true Greek tragedy, regardless of whether one can muster sympathy for any of them.

Now, I’m definitely going long for the robots and the effects. Robocop 2 is by any standard one of the best bots created through any method or medium, to me really only comparable to the very odd cyborg of Saturn 3. Its shape and look is essentially ape-like, with touches of the dinosaurian influences of ED-209. What’s most impressive is that it actually seems to have an advantage on Robocop in mobility despite its larger size and evidently far greater weight and durability. This thing can climb, jump, and manipulate objects. On top of that, it has a greater armament. There’s really just two problems. First, the final battle gets long and very bloody for something that could and should be literal comic-book fun, as evidenced especially before and after the surreal melee in the elevator shaft. Second, this isn’t really a natural evolution of the Robocop design, which is already more functional as a one-man SWAT team than a general-purpose law enforcement AI. (I think even kid-me thought of that with Percy.) For an actual tank on legs, there’s not much this can do that an upgraded ED-209 couldn’t do better. For something that can at a minimum chase the bad guys while still entering through the door (and ideally using the stairs…), the already terrifying “joke” Robocops at the beginning were far more promising. (I especially like the first one, which also offered a more natural use of the TV screen interface.) If it comes to that, you could keep the already very good design and just scale it down to Robo’s size.

With that, I’ve gone much longer than usual and I’m still just getting to the “one scene”. Right around the end of the first act, there’s a reunion between Robocop and Mrs. Murphy, and it is not happy. We learn that Robocop has been “patrolling” around his family’s new home, leading to a lawsuit. On coaching from his handlers, he admits that he is a machine before his wife enters. It would be understandable if she only asked to be left alone; instead, she addresses him as Alex, then starts into a speech that they can be together again. Robo simply says, “Touch me,” and she touches his fully exposed face. (We never do get a full explanation how that part actually works.)  He gives the dodgy explanation that the likeness is to honor Alex Murphy, then states, “Your husband is dead.” He then leaves, saying, “I don’t know you.” This is one more thing where I can easily credit Kershner for making it work as well as it does. (Yeah, there is a corresponding scene in the comic, and this is vastly better.) The most frustrating yet counterintuitively effective part is that this is the first and last we will see or hear of it. The whole point of great storytelling and great filmmaking is that if a scene is truly memorable, you don’t have to reference it at every opportunity to keep it applicable to the rest of the story, which is what marks the best of the very best.

In closing, I am left very late with what I think of the movie. Depending on mood, I might rate this lower than I have, but definitely not lower than 3 out of 4. To me, the bottom line is that this is the kind of franchise where “canon” does not apply. The original was so spot on, both in what it showed and what it didn’t show, that a “real” sequel was neither necessary nor conceivable. What makes sense is a “what if” that could just as well be a campfire tale told in the universe of the first film, and that’s the “head canon” by which I can accept the subsequent films (yes, even Robocop 3). In any case, what I have come to appreciate more and more is just how much creativity and actual genius went into this movie. Sure, it’s self-dated and in certain ways outdated, but such is the fate of all political comedy, no matter how good. (If it comes to that, I can count the eventual obsolescence of “PC” as anything but a reactionary’s straw man as one last “I told you so” for Miller.) That doesn’t change the fact that this is a very well-made movie that’s interesting even when it’s irritating. I can even find a last good word for the music, at least as long as there isn’t an actual choir singing our hero’s name. If I don’t get any more done under this feature, I will still be happy to have gotten to this one. With that, I am calling it a day. “They’ll fix you. They fix everything…”

Super Movies 2-Parter! The one with Andre the Giant in a creature suit

 

Title: Conan the Destroyer

What Year?: 1984

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

With this review, I’m finally pulling the count for this feature to 20, and it’s time for the other half of a two-part review. Last time, I covered the awkward oddity that was Conan the Barbarian. Now, we have the sequel, which was previously the subject of a soundtrack review. To me, it’s not just the one I like better, but what a Conan movie should have been all along, whether or not that was really a good idea. Here is Conan the Destroyer, the one that put Andre the Giant in a suit by the guy who made E.T. and the Alien.

Our story begins with a montage of riders against a red sky, sent to intercept Conan and his companion, a lesser thief named Malak. After Conan decimates the warriors, a ruler named Queen Taramis arrives with an offer (39-year-old spoiler): To raise Conan’s lost love Valeria, if he can retrieve an artifact called the Horn of Dagoth. His quest proves to be more of an escort mission, accompanying the maiden Princess Jehnna and her guardian Bombaata. To unlock the horn, the princess must first retrieve a magic gem from a sorcerer’s island palace, then use it to unlock an ancient treasure house where the Horn is kept. But the Queen’s real plan is to revive a chthonic deity, with Jehnna as the sacrifice, and of course, Conan and his rogues are set up to take the fall. It’s up to Conan to save Jehnna and send Dagoth back to the netherworld, or the god will bring death to the world!

Conan the Destroyer was the 1984 sequel to Conan the Barbarian, again produced by the Dino De Laurentiis Company. Roy Thomas, a writer for the Marvel Conan comics, received credit for the story. Arnold Schwarzenegger returned as Conan, with Mako reprising his role as the wizard Akiro and Olivia D’Abo in her debut as Jehnna. The supporting cast included Sarah Douglas as Taramis, Tracey Walter as Malak, Grace Jones of A View To Kill as Zula, and Wilt Chamberlain in his only starring role as Bombaata. Basil Poledouris returned with an original score including a new theme. The effects crew included the late Carlo Rambaldi, who created a practical-effects suit for Dagoth. Andre the Giant made an uncredited appearance as the creature. The film was released with a PG rating, after controversial cuts for violence and possibly nudity. It received mixed reviews, with critics divided on further comparisons with the first movie. Its profitability remains uncertain; by the most detailed accounts, it received a US box office of up to $31 million against an $18M budget, and may have earned more in other markets. In 1990, Thomas and Gerry Conway published a comic The Horn of Azoth that Thomas maintained was closer to his original story proposal. The movie has remained available on TV and home video. All known video releases are based on the theatrical cut of the film.

For my experiences, this movie, or at least the end of it, was my introduction not just to the franchise but to 1980s epic fantasy in general. What stands out is that I have repeatedly seen it used as an axiomatic example of failure. People say it was inferior to the original. People say it was a box office bomb, an assessment even I casually accepted. I’ve even seen people trash talk the effects, including the Dagoth suit. (One more further recollection I have is posting Mr. Rambaldi’s obituary on social media.) To me, this has come to feel like talking about two different movies. As I acknowledged in the previous review, the original movie had its good points, including elements of Howard’s themes that usually get lost in more routine fair. But this movie has more than enough to stand both on its own merits and as a valid take on the source material.

Moving to the movie itself, it can be acknowledged from the start that the movie is at face value very much in what would conventionally be called “so bad it’s good” territory. The acting is uneven at best. The dialogue hovers between passable and intentionally comical. The straightforward plot still presents several impressive holes, including the undeveloped backstory of a faction that apparently had the central maguffin all along. But these problems correspond to objective strengths. The cast are suited to their roles, with Douglas (see The PeopleThat Time Forgot) and Jones being the strongest performers. The lines that make people laugh, especially from Conan and Malak, are generally intended to be funny. (I’m still not sure what to make of Chamberlain’s absolutely deadpan pledge to defend the princess’s virtue, which I suppose might have been written before the casting was settled.) Most significantly, the story is fast-paced enough that none of it invites overly detailed scrutiny, a difference from the previous film that is far more pronounced than the already substantial difference in running time can account for.

Meanwhile, the part I find stands out after this much time is the effects work. Even for the early to mid-1980s, this looks middling budget and perhaps a bit on the willfully “retro” side. The obvious high point is the Dagoth suit, which I count as easily among the very best of its kind. It’s slow, and the fact that the guy inside was neither an experienced suit man nor a distinguished actor is quite clear. However, the thing is certainly well-used, interacting with the cast and environment on a level that neither CGI nor old-school stop-motion could easily achieve, and the lumbering movements give a real sense both of weight and the disorientation of a being in an unfamiliar environment. On top of that, the  gruesome design and prophesied powers are more Lovecraftian than most actual adaptations of Howard’s most distinguished colleague. But what really sticks and gradually digs in are the palace sequences in the middle act, accomplished mostly with animation, matte paintings and additional optical effects. The part that “works” is the striking level of stylization, which reaches the transcendent level of a different artform rather than outdated technology. It culminates in the surreal hall-of-mirrors fight, augmented by an inspired burst from the score, which I have been very close to giving the “one scene” nod. I pass over it now solely because it is of a piece with events before and after, not something that can be considered easily in isolation.

Now for the “one scene” itself, I decided I had to go a little further into the Dagoth sequence. At the start of the finale, Jehnna is entrusted to place the Horn in the forehead of an idol that embodies the god. The movements of the princess are unsettling in themselves; she seems either hypnotized, drugged, or simply resigned to her fate. Then there is the placement of the Horn, which leads to an uncharacteristically vague scale despite the fact that we have seen the Horn in human hands. The idol seems larger than life-sized, or the horn would fill most of its quite human face, yet the horn still seems disproportionately large. A priest from the cult of Dagoth intones that the sacrifice must take place as soon as the god shows signs of life if it is to be controlled, and the ironic part is that for all we will see, he could be right. Sure enough, the statue begins to move, still all practical, while the priest still takes plenty of time to strike a pose. As the plan goes awry, we get one more glimpse of the idol, already transforming yet all the more hideous for its lingering semblance of humanity. It’s a debatable moment, unquestionable in its overall effectiveness, and in that, it perfectly embodies the film.

In closing, I find myself lingering not on the rating or the present movie but on this feature. It’s now my longest-running feature, which got its first review around Thanksgiving last year. I haven’t done nearly as much with it as I have with my other features, but it has been very meaningful to me. If it comes to that, it’s what brought me to some of the very best movies I’ve reviewed (conspicuously Hancock, Creepshow and They Live). Looking forward, I’m not quite ready to say I’m retiring this feature. I do feel I’ve reached a kind of completeness, enough that any further installments probably won’t come for a while yet. For now, I am once again moving on for another day, and glad to end on a high note.

Super Movies 2-Parter! The one with Arnold

 

Title: Conan the Barbarian

What Year?: 1982

Classification: Irreproducible Oddity/ Mashup

Rating: What The Hell??? (2/4)

 

As I write this, it’s now just over a year since I started this feature, and I’m once again thinking about what I still want to do before ending it. That brought me to a larger project I have considered for a long time, and I decided it was time. This will be not one but two reviews, of a series I have dealt with before (including a soundtrack review). It is worth further note as a property that was never “officially” based on a comic, but attracted a great deal of suspicion then and since. I present the first part, none other than Conan the Barbarian, and this is the one that kept me from doing this for so long.

Our story begins with the forging of a sword, by a technique that has enraged blacksmiths for decades. We then meet a tribe that worships steel and the strange god Crom, who in short order are massacred by invaders bearing the sign of twin snakes. The sole survivor is a boy who goes from slavery to mercenary to a thief in the splendid cities of the Hyborian Age. In the course of his adventures, he gathers a band of rogues including a lady named Valeria, who quickly becomes his lover. He also runs afoul of the cult of Set, the same snake-worshippers who killed his family, and their leader, a charismatic sorcerer named Thulsa Doom. When a king reveals that his own daughter has joined the cult, Conan accepts a mission to bring back the wayward princess. But the quest will carry a terrible price, leaving Conan with the ungrateful rescuee in tow and the raiders of Thulsa Doom in pursuit. When the rogues make their final stand in an ancient burial ground, even Conan may be outmatched- unless the dead come to his aid!

Conan the Barbarian was a 1982 “sword and sorcery” film produced by the Dino De Laurentiis operation (see… Maximum Overdrive?), directed by John Milius from a script cowritten with Oliver Stone. The film was based on the character and stories created by Robert E. Howard for the horror/ fantasy pulp Weird Tales. Many believed it was influenced directly by the Marvel comics Conan the Barbarian and Savage Sword of Conan. The film starred Arnold Schwarzenegger as the title character and Sandahl Bergman as Valeria, with James Earl Jones as Thulsa Doom. Other cast included Mako as the wizard, Max Von Sydow (see FlashGordon) as King Osric and Valerie Quennessen as the princess. Basil Poledouris scored the film, and the sequel Conan the Destroyer. The composer also scored the. The film was released around the middle of a wave of fantasy films of the early to mid-1980s, which also included Dragonslayer,Krull and The Black Cauldron. Unlike many such films, it was inarguably profitable, earning up to $79.1 million against a $20M budget. Schwarzenegger and Mako returned for Conan the Destroyer, which otherwise had little overlap with the first movie. Quennessen became best known for Conan and the romantic comedy Summer Lovers, also scored by Poledouris, released the same year. The actress died in a traffic accident in 1989 at age 31.

For my experiences, my strongest memory of the franchise is that I saw Conan the Destroyer, or the end of it, on 1990s TV, which I will get to. To my further recollections, I finally watched the movies in full around the time I was really discovering Howard. What came to my mind during the viewings for this review is that the first movie in particular is very much like Howard, yet quite different from the Conan stories or any other incarnation of the character. Particularly noteworthy is the grim, almost humorless mood, in many ways closer to the strange saga of Kull than anything else. (Of course I know that’s where Thulsa Doom came from.) Also noteworthy is the quite limited role of monsters, magic and other fantasy shenanigans, which almost puts this on the vein of otherwise “straight” Howard adventures like “By This Axe I Rule!” The problem, at least for me, is that the final product feels ponderous if not pompous rather than epic, ultimately belying even the “so bad it’s good” reputation of the film. I can’t say it’s bad, but I don’t get it, and there’s way too much material here that I do like for that to be just me.

Moving forward, most of the easy targets here involve the origin story given for Conan, which is one thing Howard never did with any of his major characters. In fact, it actually does pretty well at introducing the characters and the assumed world. The one thing that is jarring is the introduction of Jones, which isn’t help by the fact that the makeup and lighting seem chosen to make him look as “white” as possible. We also get completely surreal moments like the encounter with a literal witch, and some monster action with a giant snake in the temple of Set. The movie gets in gear as the cult comes to the front, with homages to several of the finest Conan stories, especially “Queen of the Black Coast” and “A Witch Shall Be Born”. There’s also an underrated arc with the princess, which I will admit I didn’t notice before the current viewing. Quennessen provides impressive screen presence in the role even without much to do, especially in the temple scene where she first appears. I personally took enough notice to do much of the research here by the time the credits ran.

On the “con” side, I’ve already done the best I can to explain the issues I find with the movie. If there’s one “obvious” issue I haven’t gotten to yet, it’s that the movie is so long, almost half an hour longer than Conan the Destroyer. What makes matters far worse is the strange pacing and the further absence of a coherent message or theme. There’s plenty of movies at least as long that “work”, particularly Apocalypse Now, which the present film in fact seems to try to emulate in long stretches, and Aliens. But this movie doesn’t have the thematic complexity of Coppola’s film, and it certainly doesn’t have the fast-paced action of James Cameron. Indeed, the action scenes that do occur are as oddly static as an actual comic book, with only the palace free-for-all mustering sustained energy. As for any ambitions of “message”, the closest we get to a payoff is the simple contrast between the fanaticism of the cult and Conan’s pragmatic view of his own indifferent god Crom. (Now that I think about it, this must have had a little influence on my own character Carlos Wrzniewski.) It all culminates in the not quite comical prayer before the final battle, which really does sound like something Howard would have written for the character.

Now for the “one scene”, I had to go with one that has Jones onscreen. After Conan’s first attempt to infiltrate the cult, he is captured by Thulsa Doom, and the two characters have their one extended exchange. Thulsa Doom vents about Conan’s depredations, concluding with hilarious inflection, “You killed my snake.” Conan furiously accuses the sorcerer of killing his tribe, to which Doom merely muses that he valued weaponry in his youth. He continues with a discourse on the power of human flesh and spirit. In the middle of it all, he calls out to one of his followers far above, in a soft and fatherly tone. What follows could have been played as comical or terrifying, but instead, we get the film’s deadpan film as the camera follows the cultist’s fate, complete with a shot of the resulting hole in the floor. It’s a bizarre moment in a very odd film, and on this occasion, it really works.

In closing, I come as usual to the rating. I honestly considered giving this film a lower rating than I have. If not for certain better points, especially the Poledouris music (see my Starship Troopers soundtrack review for comparison), I might have. After a fresh and somewhat more careful viewing, I’m satisfied that the middle is where it belongs. What continues to baffle me isn’t that so many people clearly like this movie better than I do, but that few if any talk about just so odd it is.  It is ultimately the weird factor that keeps me from coming down harder than I have. I don’t get it, but it gets my respect. With that, I’m done with this one, and I’m actually looking forward to what’s next.

Movie Mania! Starship Troopers soundtrack

 

As I write this, I'm still behind lining up movie reviews, so I'm doing a little bit of catchup with another soundtrack post. This time around, I have my newest acquisition, the Starship Troopers soundtrack, which I ordered as a follow-up to my review of the direct-to-video threequel. It's of further note as the second soundtrack from Basil Poledouris, last sighted with the Conan the Destroyer soundtrack. Here's a pic of the disc and the insert booklet.

Poledouris is by my own estimation number three of the top film composers of the 1970s through the '90s, with John Williams and Jerry Goldsmith being deadlocked for 1. (James Horner sometimes did as well or better, as evidenced by the Krull soundtrack, but he was prolific enough to get by on the law of averages.) In addition to the soundtracks already under consideration, he scored the likes of Red Dawn, RoboCop, Hunt For Red October, and Breakdown. He kept up his output longer than most, only really tapering off a few years before his death in 2006. His most famous works, at least after the Conan movies, were for Paul Verhoeven, which in fact only accounted for 3 movies: RoboCop, Starship Troopers and the obscure historical adventure Flesh And Blood. 

The present CD was clearly created to promote the movie, which in hindsight was iffy. From my own research, it is not available in digital format, though there are a fair number of recordings of the "Klendathu Drop" track. The booklet includes some pretty good publicity stills. Here's a few pics of the album back and the booklet interior.

For the album itself, the one big problem is that it's quite short at only 36 minutes, which is still longer than Deep Rising and not nearly as padded out as the Zombie soundtrack. It starts with a short track of the Fednet march that opens the movie, then jumps right to "Klendathu Drop", which is really in the middle of the film. It's a bit awkward, and feels like an admission what people would buy the album for. All in all, it's as good as it should be, yet doesn't feel quite up to the composer's usual standards. My strongest reaction is that it feels like a symptom of the problems already in the movie, above all the strange and pervasive lack of emotional depth. Just compare the "Brain Bug" track and sequence with perhaps Poldouris' finest single work, "Looking For Me" from Robocop. The latter makes you picture the characters, almost down to their body language if you're familiar enough with both the music and the film. The former just conjures up a weird giant bug, because the people were never that interesting to begin with.

In case that's too much of a downer, here's the link for my own personal playlist of Poledouris' work. It's been a while since I've listened to it, and I'm once again amazed that I haven't lost a few tracks to deletions and take-downs. No more introductions, just listen to it! Or don't, it's your call. And that's all for now, more to come!