Dragonworld (1994)

Directed by Ted Nicolaou
Written by Suzanne Glazener Naha and Ted Nicolaou
Starring
- Sam Mackenzie
- Brittney Powell
- John Calvin
- Lila Kaye
- John Woodvine
Produced by Albert Band
Executive produced by Charles Band

In many ways, this movie is exactly what you would expect from Moonbeam Entertainment: A lot of familiar names in the credits, and a story that pits friendship and devotion against crass commercialism. But in other ways, it’s a surprising picture to see from Moonbeam: A Richard Band score with actual instruments! A location shoot – that isn’t in Romania! (Well, not entirely. More on that later.)

Our story opens with five-year-old American John McGowan (Courtland Mead) being shepherded on British Railways to the distant home of his grandfather, Angus McGowan (longtime character actor Andrew Keir). John’s parents were recently killed in an accident with a drunk driver, and so Angus represents his last living kin, though the two have never met. Angus is a kindly though crotchety old soul (as movies have long taught us to expect old Scots to be), and his home is actually the ancestral McGowan Castle, so private as to not be on any map. Living alone there with the cook and housekeeper Mrs. Cosgrove (Lila Kaye), Angus now introduces young John to a life of mutton stew, bagpiping on the battlements, and no electrical contrivances.

“And I positively reek of haggis, too! Och!”

Given what John has gone through recently, the lad proves a fairly fearless one. His first full day with his grandfather, he’s given his main chore: Watch the sheep alone all day on the moors. (Or the fens. Or the rolling rocky hillsides, I guess.) Just watching this scene had me raising my eyebrow in amusement, as I imagined the reactions of any of my own children to being given a solitary, all-day job in the hinterlands of an unfamiliar country (even without having recently become an orphan). But John does turn out to be lonely, so when Angus shows him the fairy-empowered “wishing tree” in the center of the family graveyard plot, John immediately wishes for a friend.

And he gets one the next day; as he’s out bagpiping to the sheep, a strange mist springs up from a ditch, and the next thing he knows, a baby dragon his own size is scampering through the woods. Did I mention how fearless John is? He’s so fearless that he chases an unknown, scaly creature instead of running from it, and tackles it to the ground. And thus, a fast friendship is born. Angus even fills us in helpfully on some legendary background: Once, long ago, a MacGowan knight slew a dragon, and then found its baby hiding in a cave and couldn’t bring himself to slay the defenseless creature. The fairies then took the baby dragon away to their realm, where nothing ever grows older. So when the fairies heard John’s wish – presto! They finally had a use for that juvenile dragon! John names him “Yowler,” which is exactly what happens when you let the five-year-old name the mythical beastie.

We then jump forward fifteen years, with John now grown into a dashing young man (Sam Mackenzie, credited elsewhere in his career as Alastair Mackenzie) sporting a perfect Scottish brogue and endowed with flowing hair such as one expects to see on the cover of a bodice-ripper romance novel. The transition is handled nicely; when we first saw the family plot, Angus had been piping over the grave of his wife. Now John stands piping over two graves. It’s not ground-breaking cinema, but it’s reassuring to see little signs that, yes, somebody really did care about making a good movie.

Children should NOT try this with mythological beasts at home.

Of course, right about now the question rears its ugly head: Why was the character of John McGowan made American in the first place? For the rest of the story he’s essentially Scottish; his American birthright makes not a lick of difference. So why couldn’t John have been a little Scottish kid? Is this yet another sign that everyone in Hollywood thinks the American viewing public to be so xenophobic that they’ll never accept a protagonist who wasn’t at least born in the U.S. of A.?

Speaking of rearing ugly heads, Yowler rears his. He’s grown an incredible amount in fifteen years, and now stands at least as high as a second-story window. He can’t yet breathe fire or fly, so he contents himself with stomping around the moors. (In his infant stage, he was realized via a puppet and a wee bit of stop-motion animation; the larger version consists of a lot more stop-motion, with a full-sized animatronic neck and head for interacting with the cast.) As intimated, John and Yowler have become best friends, and together with Mrs. Cosgrove, they form something of a family.

But their peaceful existence is about to be shattered by – Americans! American Bob Armstrong (John Calvin), to be specific, a documentary filmmaker currently working on the latest installment of “Unsolved Mysteries of History.” With him is his daughter Beth (Brittney Powell), who is a) not on the best terms with her absentee father, b) right about John’s age, and c) hubba-hubba weak-in-the-knees gorgeous. Piloting their chopper, which is how they find the not-on-the-map MacGowan castle, is Scotsman Brownie McGee (Jim Dunk). They set down so Bob can get some unauthorized footage in the family plot, and Yowler makes his presence known at the intrusion. John follows the yowling, but is prevented from throwing the three intruders off his land by his instant smittenness toward Beth. (She seems to have a similar affinity toward his rockstar hair, though she manages not to be as awkward about it as he is.) They even get invited into the castle for some tea before leaving, with a promise from Bob that he won’t tell anyone about what they’ve seen.

“What’s that? ‘Stop the infernal piping,’ you say?”

Yeah, right. No sooner has the chopper set itself down in Edinburgh, than Bob scurries off to find himself some funding for a big old dragon documentary. He turns to Lester MacIntyre (John Woodbine), head of MacIntyre Enterprises and an old-school mega-capitalist; when MacIntyre sees Bob’s fragmentary footage, he’s not willing to settle for just a film about the dragon; he wants the beast itself, as central attraction for an amusement park. And how is he to accomplish this? Well, Bob happened to see a few terse letters from Her Majesty’s Treasury sitting on John’s endtable with “Tax Arrears Final Notice” stamped across them. (Oddly enough, old Angus had had several of the same fifteen years previous; the wheels of taxation do grindly slowly.) It turns out that John has 30 days to come up with 170,000 pounds, or else he’ll be turned out of the ancestral home. With a little bit of smooth talking from Bob, John agrees to arrange for an exhibition of Yowler in the city, if only for a short while.

We do have to break for a bit more cuteness here, as Beth introduces John to the wondrous technology that is her Walkman. Because with no electricity in the castle and miles to the nearest town, John’s more used to a 19th-century level of technology. From his reaction to her Walkman, the Americans should count themselves lucky that he didn’t greet them initially with flaming torch and pitchfork in hand, raving about their “devilish metal bird.” This scene is supposed to cement the obligatory romance that we know is going to blossom between them; unfortunately, with Beth being the experienced globe-trotting American and John the Scottish hick who may seriously have never even seen a woman his own age, you have to wonder how mismatched and unequal their relationship will be. (I guess it’s a fitting reversal of all those B-movies in which the male American pilot takes up with the primitive girl from the Island of the Cavepeople.)

So. John signs contracts with MacIntyre in return for a check to cover his taxes, giving over complete guardianship of Yowler for 30 days, and MacIntyre arranges for Yowler to be tranquilized and helicoptered to Edinburgh – which will actually be Romania! (You knew a Romanian location was going to show up sooner or later, right?) MacIntyre has converted an old castle into “Dragon World,” decked out in medieval decorations and costumes -– though not, it should be noted, Scottish ones. John and the Armstrongs are on hand for the grand opening, when practically dozens of extras stream through the door for a glimpse of a real-live dragon.

“So, want to come back to my place and stroke my dragon?”
(Gaaaah. I tried so hard to resist…)

The real-live dragon, though, is despondent in his arena (which looks like a medieval village), and John has a change of heart and announces his intention to take Yowler back home at the end of the 30 days. To which MacIntyre responds with a villainous chuckle: Read the contract before you sign it next time, boy! Although the initial term is for 30 days, MacIntyre also has a unilateral option to extend the contract indefinitely, making Yowler his for all intents and purposes. John gets tossed out of Dragon World kicking and screaming, which probably isn’t the best way to keep your captive dragon docile; and Yowler picks this moment to start breathing fire, which causes a mass panic among the spectators.

Will John be able to rescue Yowler without facing an eternity in the British court system? Will Armstrong mend his opportunistic ways, and reconcile more fully with his daughter? Will John and Beth get all cuddly? Will MacIntyre get his comeuppance for having better lawyers than John? Will anyone ever explain what exactly Yowler eats?

Well, “No” to that last question, but otherwise…

Truth be told, the best part of this movie for me is the beginning with young John. Not that that’s Sam Mackenzie’s fault; he plays an unlikely role well. But there are so many more poignant moments and emotionally invested scenes in that first twenty minutes, before the movie falls back on the “evil capitalist” cliche. There’s time taken with scenes like Angus tossing away a full bottle of scotch whiskey when John mentions that the driver that hit his family was drunk, or Angus teaching John how to play the bagpipes atop the castle, or Mrs. Cosgrove reminding Angus that John’s father had lit out from this traditionalist Scottish lifestyle as soon as he was old enough (a subplot that disappears about ten seconds after it’s introduced).

“Hey — shouldn’t we be using POINTY sticks?”

Not that the movie goes entirely to pot thereafter, but there’s only so much that can be done with a lazy plot device like a moneygrubbing industrialist-developer, and it’s all been done before. And the idea that the contract is somehow invalidated in any sense other than morally because John didn’t notice the sneaking little clause is more fantastic on the face of it than the existence of a dragon in Scotland. I find it ironic that the “greedy capitalist” is most often used as a filler plot in cheap movie productions financed by, well, greedy capitalists. And when you consider the fact that this movie, made by American filmmakers, uses an American filmmaker as the instigator of the protagonist’s misfortune, you have to wonder if there’s a subconscious theme of self-loathing being displayed unwittingly.

Nevertheless, the Scottish locations do raise this movie above other studio-bound (or Bucharest-bound) productions, the movie’s single special effect is rendered effectively, and Richard Band’s score uses enough acoustic instruments to do justice to the Scots-themed melodies (though he steals shamelessly from the folksong “Over the Sea to Skye” for his recurring theme). And blessedly, the plot precludes roles for children written by adults who desperately but ineptly attempt to make the children sound “hip.”

Most of the Moonbeam Entertainment flicks fall into the “pretty harmless” category, and I’d let my children watch them. Dragonworld is one of the few that I’d let my kids watch twice.