 Arnold Schwarzenegger stars in the original action-packed epic adventure Conan The Barbarian. Following his parents' savage murder, young Conan (Schwarzenegger) is captured by the cold-blooded Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones) and spends the next 15 years in agony, first chained to the Wheel of Pain and then enslaved as a Pitt Fighter. Rather than allowing this brutal fate to conquer him, Conan builds an incomparable body and an indomitable spirit - both of which he needs when he suddenly finds himself a free man. Aided by his companions Subotai the Mongol (Gerry Lopez) and Valeria, Queen of Thieves (Sandahl Bergman), Conan sets out to solve the "riddle of steel," seize ultimate power and, finally, take revenge of the warlord who killed his family. Storyline: A barbarian trained in the arts of war joins with thieves in a quest to solve the riddle of steel and find the sorcerer responsible for the genocide of his people in this faithful adaptation of Robert E. Howard's sword and sorcery adventures. This film briefly sparked a wave of fantasy films including the sequel, Conan the Destroyer, in the early 80s. Written by Keith Loh Reviewer's Note: Reviewed by Kenneth Brown, July 26, 2011 -- Feeling down? Have three minutes to spare? Click here. Finished? If you felt rage stirring in your gut; if the word "blasphemy" burned your tongue; if you shook your head and scowled at the screen, you may want to reevaluate your unfettered devotion to John Milius' 1982 fantasy classic, Conan the Barbarian. Don't get me wrong, I have a soft spot for Conan. I could watch it three times a week and still walk away with a dopey grin on my face. But the key to enjoying Conan -- to truly enjoying Conan -- is to admit that, beneath all the savage swordplay and sorcery, between its geysers of blood and musclebound madness, beyond its disarming first act, it amounts to unabashed genre fun. And, yes, sometimes that fun is of the Big Dumb variety. Admitting as much doesn't make it a lesser film, and conceding that it hasn't aged as well as it could have isn't tantamount to cinematic treason. A quote-unquote classic doesn't need to withstand the test of time to endure the ages, and it doesn't need to be taken so seriously to be savored. So kick back, dear readers. Conan the Barbarian isn't a perfect classic, but it is a whole lotta fun. Shortly after learning about his Cimmerian heritage and his people's connection to Crom, the god of Earth and steel, a young boy by the name of Conan (Jorge Sanz) watches helplessly as his parents are killed and his entire village is razed by Scythian warriors led by the evil sorcerer Thulsa Doom (an icy eyed James Earl Jones). Conan is spared, though, and sold into slavery and chained to a device dubbed "The Wheel of Pain" to serve out his life as a mindless workhorse. Slowly but surely, the years melt away, and the fragile boy is unceremoniously transformed into a hulking meat-locker of a brute (Arnold Schwarzenegger) who's purchased by yet another slave master, trained as a pit fighter and taught to value -- what else? -- crushing his enemies, seeing them driven before him and hearing the lamentation of their women. But Conan eventually escapes his chains, literally and otherwise, and attracts the company of three invaluable companions: the archer Subotai (Gerry Lopez), the thief Valeria (Sandahl Bergman) and, later, the wizard Akiro (Mako). Soon, Conan also crosses paths with the loyal servants of Thulsa Doom -- a cult that worships the snake god, Set -- and realizes revenge, at long last, is within his grasp. To say Milius' film is loosely based on author Robert E. Howard's original "Conan the Barbarian" tales would be an understatement. Milius' Conan is a different creature entirely and shares little in common with Howard's Conan, or the personality, motivations, quick-thinking and charisma that have long defined the character on the page. Howard's Conan (and many later incarnations of the swordsman) is a cunning adventurer; as clever as he is powerful, as deadly as he is daring, as fierce as he is fearless. Milius' Conan, at least initially, is a lost puppy by comparison. A vicious, dangerous pup, mind you -- one that would just as soon rip out a man's throat as curl up beside him -- but still more of a wayward vagrant than a decisive, as-yet-unmatched warrior. His self-awareness, intelligence and authority evolve as the film plows ahead, no doubt. There just aren't many defining moments other than those our defiant hero stumbles into thanks to twists of fate and a bit of dumb luck. Both Milius' re-workings of Conan's origin and Schwarzenegger's casting take a toll -- say what you will about the trailers for Marcus Nispel's upcoming Conan the Barbarian; Jason Momoa is more suited to the role -- but it's primarily Milius' desire to strip Conan down to such fundamentally different base elements that is to blame. In his world, brawn trumps brains at every turn; so long as that brawn is dispensed by way of the lumbering sword-swings of an Austrian bodybuilder-turned-leading-man. Of course, if the faithfulness of an adaptation was the sole criteria for judging its success, Hollywood would be in a lot of trouble. (I know, I know. Some of you are thinking, "it is, and that's the reason it is." Let's not get hung up on an age-old debate.) Milius' Conan may not be Howard's Conan, but as far as bloodthirsty barbarians and dark adventures are concerned, Milius' Conan isn't a dull titular warrior by any means, and the quest for revenge he embarks upon is a thrilling, altogether satisfying march into the heart of Thulsa Doom's fortress. The physical and philosophical contest between the mettle of Crom's steel and the lure of Set's flesh, the bloody battles Conan wages with both worldly and otherworldly forces, the tragedy that befalls him as a boy and the near-perfect symmetry of his inevitable vengeance, his friendship with Subotai and his belated coming-of-age rights of passage, his clashes with Doom (James Earl Jones steals entire scenes, perhaps even the entire film, as the stoic serpent-worshiping villain)... Conan traverses so many peaks that it's all too easy to trudge through its valleys without complaining. Much. Jones may steal entire scenes, but Bergman sinks just as many; Schwarzenegger may excel at times, but his limited range as an actor is quite apparent at others; unintentional campiness lurks in the shadows of the second and third acts; and some of the dialogue -- by Crom, some of the dialogue -- is excruciating. Again, though, it's the fun of Conan that keeps Milius' warrior in the fight; it's the solemn character beats, the war of swords and sorcery, and the dark lifeblood that pulses through the film's arteries that help it lift its head when specific scenes or performances beat it down. Close scrutiny tends to sully Conan the Barbarian. It's best served as escapism, and early '80s escapism at that. Before the advent and spread of CG made fantasy a viable and, for arguably the first time in film history, a profitable genre, films like Conan -- good fantasy films -- were an absolute rarity. CG-spoiled newcomers may balk at Milius' snake gods and wispy spirits; those who weren't reared in the '80s may have a good laugh at Schwarzenegger's expense; and those prone to cast off a movie the moment it begins to show its wrinkles will leave Conan in the dust. But for those weened on Ahnuld and '80s guilty (or not-so-guilty) pleasures like Conan the Barbarian will feel right at home, even some thirty years after its debut. With Marcus Nispel's reboot/reimagining/revamp of the same name storming theaters in August, there's no time like the present to reacquaint yourself with (or introduce yourself to) John Milius and Arnold Schwarzenegger's stab Robert E. Howard's iconic swordsman. No, Milius' Conan the Barbarian isn't a faithful adaptation and, no, it isn't impervious to the passage of time, it's still -- say it with me -- a whole lotta fun. If nothing else, it stands as one of the few swords-n-sorcery fantasy films of the '80s you can watch (and even enjoy) without issuing an apology to anyone who catches you in the act. So is Universal's Blu-ray release up to snuff? Not quite. While its DTS-HD Master Audio track sounds great, its video transfer has a few issues and its supplemental package leaves a lot to be desired. Be that as it may, Conan fans shouldn't hesitate to add it to their carts, especially at such a reasonable pricepoint. Its presentation may not be ideal, but it still beats its DVD counterpart to a pulp and stands, issues or no, as the best release of the film to date. (Based on Comic Book) Cast Notes: Arnold Schwarzenegger (Conan), James Earl Jones (Thulsa Doom), Max von Sydow (King Osric), Sandahl Bergman (Valeria), Ben Davidson (Rexor), Cassandra Gava (The Witch [as Cassandra Gaviola]), Gerry Lopez (Subotai), Mako (The Wizard / Narrator), Valérie Quennessen (The Princess), William Smith (Conan's Father), Luis Barboo (Red Hair), Franco Columbu (Pictish Scout), Leslie Foldvary (Sacrificial Snake Girl), Gary Herman (Osric's Guard), Erik Holmey (Turanian War Officer [as Erick Holmey]). IMDb Rating (06/27/11): 5.6/10 from 18,089 users
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