Conan der Barbar

Before CGI allowed filmmakers to cheaply create any fantasy world they can think of fantasy films had to rely on real locations, practical effects, and deep imagination to bring those worlds to life before the camera rather than in post-production. It may not be bestowed with Oscars, but Conan The Barbarian is just as classy as Ben Hur and more brutal than Gladiator.

In an almost wordless set-up, a young Conan is orphaned by the androgynous warlord Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones) and dragged off to some kind of weird labor camp where children are exploited and punished, kinda like a primitive version of Disneyland Paris. Years go by and Conan grows up into a huge, bloated and bulging muscle-bound killing machine.

At this point, he is used as a money-making tool by his captors, who set up death matches with other killing machines. Soon, he becomes the most honored fighter in the land, so his captors set him free as he can win no more tournaments. In the opening act alone we see him transition from innocent child, to orphan, slave, gladiator, warrior, adventurer, and thief.

He has a hard time surviving on his own until he finds a special sword, makes a new best friend in Subotai (Gerry Lopez) and finds a girlfriend in Valeria (Sandahl Bergman). Together, they live the high life of barbarians, mainly involving robbing, grunting, and clubbing people. All goes well until Conan makes it his personal quest to go after Thulsa Doom for revenge.

James Earl Jones appears threatening, even though he doesn't even look like the kind of guy who would say boo to a goose. Imagine Oprah Winfrey in Hells Angels biker gear and you'll have an accurate description of Thulsa Doom. He's not a totally formidable foe for Conan in the larger-than-life sense, but psychologically he's a scary dude.

Schwarzenegger does a great job. There really is only one person in the world who could play Conan, as sympathetic and brutal as he is, and Arnie definitely pulls it off, in this, his first major starring role. Of course, there is not much acting going on - he says only five words to Valeria in the whole movie - but it's all about physical presence, rather than thespianism. Most of the dialogue is unspoken. Conan was brought up to be a killing machine, but he learns humanity through feeling his own mortality.

Producer Dino De Laurentiis, a veteran movie-maker, brought a whole load of money to give Conan a massive scale. John Milius stages some h-u-g-e scenes, with excellent production values, and his cinematographer Duke Callaghan uses widescreen framing brilliantly. The gore and violence is on a par with Paul Verhoeven and is so frequent that after a while it becomes almost comical. Basil Poledouris, who wrote wonderful music for RoboCop and many others, creates a truly majestic score that is absolutely spellbinding.

As a tribute to Robert E. Howard's pulp hero, as a stand-alone movie, as an Arnie vehicle and cult picture, Conan is now almost a classic. Sure, there are faults, but you'll be too damn entertained to care.

This is one of my top-ten favorite movies of all time. It's quite easy to dismiss this film based on its genre (barbarian slash-em-up) and the limited acting ability of the star (Schwarzenegger), but Conan is nothing short of a masterpiece.

Ok, the story is fairly standard, and the principal actors (Schwarzenegger, Sandahl Bergman & Gerry Lopez) are competent but not outstanding. There are a few brief but memorable performances from James Earl Jones and Max von Sydow that help lend weight to the film, but the real stars are Poledouris' score and the cinematography. I have never seen a more beautifully-shot film in my life. The costumes, props and art direction are all top-notch. They could take all of the dialog out of the movie, and just have the music and pictures and it would still be worth watching.

To fully appreciate Conan, though, you have to watch it and then watch another barbarian-type film from any era (Beastmaster, Krull, etc.) and the difference will be stunning.

You know, Conan doesn't speak for the first 22 minutes of the movie, but it's worth the wait. "Crush enemies, see them driven before you, hear the lamentations of the women" is Conan's description of what is best in life.

If you're a dialog person, this movie may not be for you. If you never paid attention to the dialog, you might do so now. Sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll! (except, without the rock'n'roll. The soundtrack is pretty awesome, though).

What can I say? It's a classic. Intense blood and gore, Eighties-esquire special effects, intense sensuality with were-vixens, magic, revenge, true love...sounds like the Princess Bride with an R rating. Just kidding.

Directed by John Milius, this hugely entertaining slice of sword and sorcery is epic stuff from start to finish, opening with Conan as a young boy witnessing the slaughter of his tribe by the evil snake-cult leader Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones) and his henchmen, charting Conan's subsequent life as a slave, a gladiator, and a thief, and following him as he and his loyal friend Subotai (Gerry Lopez) and sexy squeeze Valeria (Sandahl Bergman) travel to Thulsa Doom's mountain lair to rescue a king's daughter and exact a little revenge.

As an actor, five times Mr. Universe and seven times Mr. Olympia Arnold Schwarzenegger might only be slightly less wooden than The Tree of Woe to which he is nailed, but with more muscle mass in one arm than the average man has in his entire body, he makes a perfect Conan the Barbarian. As expected, Arnold mauls his dialogue like he's chewing on a vulture's neck, but he gives the role everything he's got, especially when it comes to swinging a sword and slicing up men like they're so much Extrawurst. Arnie flexes his muscles, blood and limbs fly in all directions, and Hollywood's greatest action star is born.

Milius's film might threaten to become mired by a sense of self importance at times, but with bags of atmosphere, superb production design by Ron Cobb, and stunning cinematography, plus oodles of brutal hacking and slashing, all accompanied by a breath-taking symphonic score by Basil Poledouris, Arnie's first major movie ultimately emerges triumphant.

When Conan came out in 1981, critics griped about its elephantine pacing and ponderous dialogue, and long stretches in which nothing much happened, giving evidence that they expected traditional action- adventure in the vein of, say, Sinbad. But director John Milius had set out to create something very different: an epic Aryan myth which translated the qualities of Wagnerian opera to cinema, and in large part he succeeded.

Conan has a sweeping epic feel, and is heavily dependent upon and driven by its setting and music to a degree that is very rare. As important as the deeds of the legendary hero, which are shown in brief and violent spurts of action, are the place and the culture that shaped that legend. The journey that created the myth, in short, is equal to the myth itself, and this is the logic and justification for the setting-heavy approach taken by Milius. And Basil Poledouris' wonderful music, which starts out Wagnerian and brassy, but adds middle Eastern touches as Conan's journey takes him in that direction, tracks along with Conan to show up the breadth of his epic journey while celebrating his heroic achievements.

Ultimately the story that gets told is somewhat less worthy of Milius' Wagnerian ambitions than are the music and the visuals, but the overall results more than justify the effort, especially when compared to the Italian sword and sandal knock-offs which followed this much copied but never equaled classic of the fantasy genre.