Conan the Barbarian

**1/2***
Two and a Half Stars Out of Five

There are several types of bad movies. There are bad movies that are doomed from the get-go; you see them, and you know that there was no salvaging that particular project. It's shit, it will always be shit, and it was always going to be shit (think From Justin to Kelly - there was no saving that movie - and you'll get the idea). Then, there are movies that, for some odd reason, just never fully clicked. Everything that needed to come together just somehow didn't, and you're left with a bit of a mess. A good movie exists somewhere inside of the current picture, but it just couldn't escape. There are two other types of bad movies (don't worry, I'll tell you what they are): bad movies that aren't really all that bad, they're just rather forgettable. They don't do anything to separate themselves from the crowd. They're just... there. Then, there are really, really, really bad movies that you see that you'll never be able to forget because they were so terrifically horrible. It takes a lot of shit going wrong to have one of those bad boys on your hands, and it's not often that one makes it into cinemas. They're bad, but at least they're memorable. There's certainly something to be said for that, right?

Unfortunately, Conan the Barbarian is a bad movie that has a good one somewhere inside it trying to sneak out, and it's also not bad enough to be memorable. It's ultimately rather forgettable. Which is sad. Because I wanted it to be a lot better. I wanted it to be the feel-good-testosterone-fueled-decapitation-filled movie of the summer. I wanted a movie that made me want to grow a hairy chest, to chew tobacco, and come home and force my woman to make love to me, afterward having her call me her Apollo God of Sexy Love Time Sex (I'm using hyperbole for at least one of those actions listed above. You decide which ones). Basically, I wanted a movie to make me feel like a strong man, which I'm admittedly not. I wanted something like Predator, or 300 (don't laugh - you thought that movie was bad-ass until everyone liked it and you decided to hate it because you're pathetic). Instead, I got... bleh. And bleh is the worst type of movie you can possibly make, because it doesn't mean anything to anyone. Ya dig? You dig.

Good god, he's handsome.

So, I suppose I should address the plot, even though I didn't give a flying tit about it, nor did I even want to. Conan is a Cimmerian, which shouldn't mean anything to you. Basically, he's a viking who was born on a battlefield and his mom dies. His dad (Ron Perlman, clearly cashing a paycheck) raises him to be a warrior stud. But before Conan can come of age, his dad is killed by some douche-nozzle named Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang, continuing his asshole phase from Avatar). Zym is trying to get a bunch of separate pieces of this helmet thing that will make him a god or something, and Conan's dad has the last piece. Because, you know, anytime you don't want someone to put together a helmet that possesses the ability to make someone a god, you hide the separate pieces instead of destroying them. That makes sense.


So, Zym puts the helmet back together, but now he needs a "pureblood" girl to bleed into it. It's not what you think - it's got nothing to do with a virgin menstruating into the helmet to activate the god powers, even though that would be way cooler for some strange reason - the pureblood is, I guess, the ancestor of the dickweeds who created the helmet and then hid the pieces throughout the known world. Again, this opens things up a bit for interesting subplots, because you would assume that the pureblood is an inbred individual who had devolved into a grade-A dipshit, but no. It's an attractive nun. Or something. Named Tamara. I know what you're thinking now: Tia and Tamara from "Sister-Sister" right? But there is no Tia around, so you can kiss your hopes of a "Sister-Sister" TV show crossover with Conan the Barbarian. Maybe we'll finally get to see that in a sequel, but I doubt it. So Zym hunts for the gal with the blood while Conan grows up to be a bad-ass of the highest order, still yearning for revenge.

Good god, he's tough-looking.

As luck would have it, Conan (Jason Momoa, who is a huge bad-ass and is easily the highlight of the movie)
comes across Zym in a roundabout way, and he also falls in with Tamara (Rachel Nichols) because she's caught right square in the middle of the whole pissfest. So, in addition to getting revenge on the man who killed his father, Conan now kinda-sorta has to save the world, and the hot inbred chick who's blood Zym needs. Oh yeah, and there might be an incestuous relationship going on between Zym and his gothic/hideous daughter Marique (Rose McGowan in what is easily the worst performance of the year). So, there's a lot of shit going on, but none of it outside of Conan wanting revenge makes a whole lot of sense, nor is it remotely engaging.

The cast is okay, but outside of Jason Momoa, nobody seems to be giving a shit. Momoa is a buff, attractive fella who certainly is the right guy for the role of Conan, and he does the best with what he has, but that's really not that much. The man oozes charisma, toughness, energy, and machismo, but it's just not enough to save the movie. I feel bad for the guy, because based on interviews, he seems to be a great guy who really loves the character of Conan. Hopefully he gets a chance to do something better with him someday. Stephen Lang is efficient as Zym, bringing nothing to the table, nor taking anything off of it. Ditto for Nichols, who is pretty and... a bit feisty, maybe. But that's about it. Same with everyone in the cast, except for Rose  McGowan who is so jaw-droppingly awful as Marique that I couldn't believe it was the same person who so awesomely played Cherry Darling in Planet Terror. It seems she forgot that she wasn't in a comedy/camp film and decided to fuck around the set by being a horrible caricature of every witch ever. Her ineptitude in the role would be laughable if it weren't so sad, and frankly, the less said about her performance, the better we'll all be.

Good god, she's awful.

The action scenes are capable, but nothing special. Sure, there's a bit of arterial spray and lots of the good crimson stuff spurting across the screen, but again, nothing memorable. Credit to director Marcus Nispel for
finding a way to frame a tremendously handsome and strong Momoa in such a bland way in battle sequences. Also, I owe a debt to the editor for doing such a great job of ensuring that several of the action scenes are incomprehensible thanks to ADHD-influenced camera cuts. Whoever thought this was a good idea deserves to be fired from cinema permanently, as it makes no damn sense whatsoever. I like to see my action scenes, and to be able to compute just what the hell is going on, thank you very much. Some of the action scenes are pretty good, with Momoa again being the highlight, since he has a feral presence, and he moves very gracefully with a sword. Just know that it's nothing too great, and you'll probably forget all the action scenes minutes after you watch them.

I mentioned Marcus Nispel, the director, above. He should be awarded something for being the director of remakes that absolutely nobody was particularly clamoring for. The man is responsible for Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003), Friday the 13th, (2009), and now this, which is, of course a remake of the Ahnuld classic from 1982, which was inspired by the legendary Robert E. Howard (whose pulp writings don't have much in common with any of the films based on them). While Texas Chainsaw Massacre was utterly forgettable aside from Jessica Biel's ever-shrinking t-shirt, I remember that it had really good sound. So, that's good. I guess. And I actually loved Friday the 13th  because it was an open love letter to the slasher genre, which I am an unabashed fan of. He struck the balance between humor and horror brilliantly, and tossed in a buttload of boobies to boot. I loved it. But still, three remakes? I don't hate remakes like so many people do, because I believe they can offer something different if they're done correctly. But three remakes is a lot. Come on, man. Spread your wings. Create something unique. Grow a beard, move to Soho, and do a little art flick. Shit, I think I just gave him the idea to remake Eraserhead. Sorry, in advance, gang.

The really sad part is, I do think that there is a good movie in there trying to get out (kinda like the attractive girls in high school who slutted it up with everyone but you, and then had three kids before dropping out of community college and then going back to get their associates degrees in Communications got super-fat, but their hotness still kinda sneaks out every once in a while when you see them at bars and old, newly-divored 40 year-olds are buying them drinks). If a better crew had been attached, or maybe somebody who had cared more about the characters, or maybe an editor who wasn't coked out of his head had worked on it, it would have been better. As it stands, this is all we've got. And it's not horrible. But it's certainly not any good. Sorry, Mr. Momoa - you deserved better than this.

But, I always like to end on a positive note. So here's a .gif of Ahnuld-Conan looking like a fuckwit. Toodles!