Giganten mit stählernen Fäusten

In a dystopian distant future, warriors called Range Guides protect people in the desert wastelands from mutant cannibals. Beside the wastelands lie the powerful city states. Lord Zirpola of the city state Helix has captured Range Guide Kaz Oshay (David Carradine). Next, he captures female Guide Deneer (Claudia Jennings) to pair up with Kaz in his Deathsport game. They are tormented by Ankar Moor.

This is a Roger Corman B-movie. It has a lot of B-movie cheese. Of course, Jennings is a Playboy Playmate. The Deathsport is basically motocross bikes with lasers. They spent a bit of money on explosions. They blow up a few bikes and does one fire walk. Overall, it's a solid B-movie.

I saw this movie as a kid at the theater "in the back corner of the mall" that showed those "hardcore R" movies in the late 70's - nervous buying the tix but the theater guy always let us in. Without a doubt, watchable. I'm just getting my kids to appreciate "cinema" and this one is one the list. Most of it is where we saw it versus what we saw but it's now viewable in your home at your calling. Technology. I personally dislike CGI and the proliferation of computers as "film" so these are the type of movies that now define an era gone by. Sad but true. There is an appreciation to be had with this movie that's like watching Shakespeare in the Park with motocross and entertaining foley artist work (albeit laughable).

Inexpensive sequel to "Death Race 2000" (1975), that bares little relation (both in content and quality) to the original. Gone is the camp dialogue and black humour - arrived is a painfully ear-splitting synthesiser score, pyrotechnic displays and banal screenplay. The only redemption that can be attributed to "Deathsport" is its cast and some of the action sequences. In a distant, post apocalyptic future, reticent hero David Carradine (no reprisal of his Frankenstein role here) competes in a motorcycle race that is actually a spectator sport. Having mashed a few brains beneath the wheels of his motorcycle, our cyborg hero develops a cult following much to the chagrin of the evil Ankar (Richard Lynch in fine form). Ankar considers himself the bigger enchilada, and sets out to annihilate Carradine and his flock.

Formula science fiction fare, with a just a hint of talent, courtesy of a capable cast and some light humour. Alongside the fearless Carradine is former Playboy playmate, Claudia Jennings, whose frequent disrobing more than compensates for her apparent lack of thespian skills. Sadly, this was to be her swansong. The three principals are ably assisted by veterans William Smithers (playing it straight, as always), and David MacLean (playing it up, as always).

"Deathsport" features some fluent action sequences and macabre special effects, but unlike its witty predecessor, the laughs are largely unintentional. When all the trailblazing is over and done, and Jennings has put her clothes back on, you can't help but feel short-changed. But then, as the credits disappear into the back of your TV set, the film's origins are revealed. You nod your head and forgive, because you understand. It's a New World Picture. They don't write 'em like that anymore ...

Some film makers, such as Ed Wood, produce movies so bad that they have a peculiar charm in spite of their overwhelming flaws. And then there's Roger Corman.

"Deathsport" was meant to ride on the coat tails of its successful predecessor "Death Race 2000," using motorcycles in place of automobiles as principal motif. However, although it does feature the same leading man (David Carradine), it lacks two key elements from the first film -- the self-caricature known as Sylvester Stallone, and the arch humor of director Paul Bartel who went on to direct cult favorites "Eating Raoul" (1982) and "Lust in the Dust" (1985). Principal director Allan Arkush, on the other hand, was soon relegated to the wasteland of television. Roger Corman wears his producer's hat for "Deathsport" but is also listed as an uncredited director. One noteworthy point: listed in the credits for "guitar" is Jerry Garcia. Could it really be THE Jerry Garcia of Grateful Dead fame?

This film should be seen by anybody interested in learning how NOT to make a movie. It is bad in so many ways that the 1000 word IMDb comment limit precludes me from even beginning to describe them. I would rate this film as low as possible if it weren't for two redeeming features: hilarious trailers for other Corman productions (in the video version), and completely gratuitous full frontal female nudity. Rating: 2/10.

Anyone visiting the Hollywood hills during the late seventies had be prepared for running across film crews perpetrating monstrosities like this little beauty on which Quentin Tarantino gorged during his misspent youth.

New World supremo Roger Corman's name on the credits wasn't the recommendation it was fifteen years earlier, especially as it suffers from the usual seventies infelicities of ghastly haircuts, hideous synthesised music, hordes of mutants with eyes like ping pong balls and exteriors that look like giant jelly moulds.

Feminists might take issue at casting a Playboy playmate as the female lead, but the late Miss Jennings wields a mean blaster and never wears anything remotely as humiliating as David Carradine's loin cloth (a sight it's going to take me a long time to forget).