Hércules Contra os Dragões

Perfectly awful peplum/Hercules-movie: you know you're in trouble when leading lady Jayne Mansfield's prominent bust (forever on the verge of bursting through her togas) commands greater attention than the plot, the action or the special effects!; of course, the fact that the muscular hero is played by her real-life husband – Mickey Hargitay – adds to the fun quotient (of the unintentional kind, that is)…for rarely has there ever been an actor so clueless as to how to approach this mythical part!

Usually seen as a blonde, Mansfield here dons a black and a red wig: she appears as a couple of sovereigns – the heroine and an Amazonian (though the latter is technically played by another actress who takes up Mansfield's appearance via a magic potion in order to ensnare Hargitay). Of mild interest is the fact that the latter has a penchant of disposing of her lovers by having them turned into living trees – as if one needed further proof of how wooden this thing could be, the plot here takes it to a literal level! The chief villainous role in this one is entrusted to Massimo Serato, often a reliable presence in this type of flick, but in this case sporting long curly hair – which only serves to enhance the film's overriding camp factor. Also in the cast, as one of Serato's advisors, is Giulio Donnini from the obscure peplum FRINE, CORTIGIANA D'ORIENTE (1953) – which I watched as part of last month's "Epic Movie Challenge" (in time for the Easter period); incidentally, I had intended to rent the 5-Disc/7-Film set among which this was included back then but it wasn't available.

By the way, THE LOVES OF HERCULES was also known as HERCULES VS. THE HYDRA: this monster, which appears fairly early on in the game, is one of the worst of its kind ever constructed – what's the point of having a three-headed menace if lopping one of them off kills it instantly! Indeed, the mechanical creation is so bulky that it can barely move and so obviously fake that one is liable to burst out laughing at the mere sight of it, as I did, thus effectively destroying the illusion of the entire scene! Another hilarious obstacle the hero has to overcome during the course of the film is a meek-looking cow absurdly sprayed black by the penny-pinching film-makers in a lousy attempt to pass it off for a menacing bull!

HERCULES VS. THE HYDRA definitely ranks in the top 5 of the hundreds of Hercules films made in Italy in the 1960's (the others being HERCULES IN THE HAUNTED WORLD; the original Steve Reeves HERCULES; THE FURY OF HERCULES; the delirious THE WITCH'S CURSE; and the equally gonzo HERCULES PRISONER OF EVIL.) But back to HYDRA -- first, you've got Jayne Mansfield and Mickey Hargitay, and the fact that they eventually married, and that Mansfield died tragically, lends an undeniable poignancy to this movie. There's no way around it, it's part of Hollywood history, and it makes this a very melancholy portrait of two people falling in love. Second, there's Hargitay -- and dammit, he's a REALLY GOOD Hercules, possibly the best on a pure acting level (and Hargitay wasn't really an actor, so that's saying something.) He's dubbed (of course), but there's a real emotional yearning quality that comes across here, and he puts his heart and soul into almost every scene. Watch a bunch of the other Hercules actors and you'll see what I mean. Best of all, the movie veers off into delirious Alexander Ptushko territory about halfway through, when Herc encounters the three-headed Hydra in the land of the Amazons. Anyone who loves Ray Harryhausen type fantasy films will get a kick out of this one. The weird-ass forest of human trees is especially good. Definitely a winner.

"The Loves of Hercules" was one of two peplum films featuring Hercules (the other being "Goliath and the Dragon") released in 1960, following the success of "Hercules" and its sequel both starring Steve Reeves. This marks American sex-symbol/actress Jayne Mansfield's only peplum entry, because, I guess, what to do when you have a hunky slab of bodybuilder beef lying around the house but cast him as the legendary strongman and play his main squeeze? It's a good idea on paper.

Mansfield and Hungarian bodybuilder Mickey Hargitay married in 1956 and this was the second film they made together. Both have been better elsewhere, but let's face it, their most enduring and worthwhile contribution to the performing arts was producing daughter Mariska. It certainly isn't this turkey, which sees Herc buffeted by a succession of women who do him wrong. Indeed, the theme here seems to be that musclemen should stick to slaying monsters and performing heroic feats because women will just mess with you. Hargitay, despite his build, is not very convincing in the role -- he has a round, boyish face that in this context makes him look more like a lost and confused lad than a god among men. Mansfield's performance is too self-absorbed and anachronistic to be anything but distracting. She has a dual role as the good Queen Deianira and the evil Queen Hippolyta and neither Hercules nor viewers can tell them apart. (Hint: her hair color changes.) Oddly, the two real life partners have no on-screen chemistry here.

None of the rest of the cast are particularly interesting, the set pieces are unremarkable, as are the set design and costumes. The tree-monsters the Amazons transform men into are a little spooky, and the large cast of extras look like they are having fun. Despite being filmed at Cinecitta, this looks as cheap as it probably was -- especially the monsters Hercules battles, which includes the paperiest of paper mache Hydras and an emaciated looking gorilla suit. The only energetic fight sequence is when Hargitay dispatches Mansfield's blowhard fiancé by picking him up, spinning him around a bit and throwing him across the room. This is the only moment the film manages to sell the idea that you shouldn't tangle with Hercules. This is only for Hercules and/or Mansfield or Hargitay completists -- everyone else can skip it.

Years ago I managed to catch this one on a Saturday morning TV broadcast and watched it through to the end, with an amused smile. As other comments here attest, it's definitely not one of the better sword-and-sandal epics and, if you're a fan of that genre, you'd better appreciate what Jayne Mansfield has to offer should you give it a look-see. Like so many others in this canon, it's one of the tombstones marking the declining careers of Hollywood expatriates.

A side note: In the early 1960s Carol Burnett, in a one-woman engagement, appeared at the Greek Theater (an outdoor ampitheater, northeast of downtown Hollywood in Griffith Park, which each year had a summer season of big-name acts, ballet companies, fully-mounted operas, etc.) and, as part of her show, she did a very funny bit in which she imagined Jayne Mansfield accepting her Academy Award as Best Actress in a Hercules extravaganza. In her acceptance speech Carol/Jayne recreated a scene and I can still remember her screeching: "Hercules! Hercules! Put me DOWN!!" Got a BIG laugh. Carol must have used this film as her inspiration, for in it there's a scene toward the end where Mickey is rescuing Jayne from some peril or other and he appears to be staggering under the totality of her considerable assets. Before they had left for Italy, Jayne and Mickey had frequently performed a stunt, well-documented in filmed interviews, in which Mickey effortlessly lifted Jayne overhead and paraded her around airplane-style. His seeming inability to recreate that feat in this movie is one of the film's comic highpoints for this viewer.

Mickey Hargitay is Hercules in this go-around, with wife Jayne Mansfield playing a couple of roles in a movie in which all the women seem to be what Jane Russell called 'full-figured women' in those Playtex commercials. Hargitay rides around in a very short chiton that must have caused considerable chafing, speaks with an Italian accent in the dubbed version I saw, and fights a three-headed hydra that looks and moves like a carousel critter.

There's almost nothing positive to say about this movie, which looks like it was made for an audience of libidinous five-year-olds.