- Directed by Gary Goddard
- Written by David Odell (and Stephen Tolkin, uncredited)
- Starring
- Dolph Lundgren
- Frank Langella
- Meg Foster
- Billy Barty
- Jon Cypher
- Courtney Cox
- James Tolkan
- Chelsea Field
- Robert Duncan McNeill
- Produced by Edward R. Pressman
- Executive produced by Yoram Globus and Menahem Golan
Hey, what bad movie forum is complete without this shapeless mass of consumerism?
Somewhere along the line, while this animated series/half-hour commercial was at its peak, some rocket scientist said, “Dolph Lundgren! He’d be a perfect He-Man!” The error lay, of course, in not realizing the differences between the two: one is a lifeless, two-dimensional caricature of masculinity; the other is a cartoon character.
So what we got, instead of a faithful adaption of the cartoon series, is this stripped-down rendition (scaled back, one would suppose, to the thespian abilities of its star). Gone were He-Man’s secret identity, his green pet lion, and his relationships to the other characters. They took the foxy Sorceress and made her an big-nosed woman with a chandelier on her head!
See, Skeletor (Frank Langella) has finally conquered Greyskull, which is supposed to be some kind of key or repository to the power of the universe, along with its sword, which He-Man carries (thus the “I have the power!” refrain). But He-Man still eludes him. He teams up with regular characters Man-at-Arms and Teela, plus a dwarf named Gwildor (played by Billy Barty, everyone’s favorite little person) who has invented a “cosmic key” which will open a doorway to anywhere, depending on the melody played on its keys. (He “accidentally” made one for Skeletor a while back, which is how Skeletor got into Greyskull in the first place.) In a frantic bid for escape, they open a portal to nowhere in particular, and arrive in… Anytown, U.S.A.
Yup. Let’s take our exotic heroes to Genericville. And while we’re at it, let’s not please our target 8-to-11-year-olds and pair him up with someone in their age group. No, let’s have him fall in with a couple of annoying teenagers — Courtney Cox and Robert Duncan McNeill, to be precise.
Oh yeah, and let’s forget to invite the police when Skeletor follows them and marches down Main Street with a thousand crack troops. See those rolled-up sidewalks?
No, Lundgren can’t act. But that’s a given. What’s more amazing is that Chelsea Field, the actress playing Teela, gives an even more annoying “performance” — and unlike Dolph (who shows every bit of his waxed skin that he can get away with in a PG flick), is clothed head to toe.
Langella? He probably acted well, but who can tell? The Skeletor make-up is abrasively bad. Hint to the make-up designers: If you want it to look like the guy’s actually got a skull face (as opposed to, say, a skull-shaped appliance slapped on his face), don’t let his cheekbones wiggle up and down as he speaks!
Sure, Barty is good, but no one’s expecting a dwarf to carry the picture. The only actor who didn’t embarrass him/herself is Meg Foster as Evil-Lyn; all she has to do is stand there and let her spooky-ass eyes stare right at the camera.
It’s pointless consumer fodder, too slow for juveniles and too intelligence-insulting for everyone else. Or almost everyone, rather; when it first came out, I saw a letter in Starlog which honestly praised it as the best motion picture ever made. Seriously. I hope to God that cretin never breeds.
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