Masters of the Universe, part 1

Skeletor, courtesy of Penny Arcade

As my review might imply, I simply fell in love with the cheesy badness that Masters of the Universe had to offer in the first ten minutes - and continuing on from there. In previous mutant viewings, I've covered films that I either liked or despised, but never mixed together (like chocolate/vanilla ice cream swirlies) as it is here. MOTU is a terrible flick, no doubt about it, full of rank plot inconsistencies and weirdness beyond belief. But at the same time, it's glorious in how fun it is, in how ridiculous each scene gets… until the next scene tries to top the previous. I loved, in an affectionate fashion of a father for his malfunctioning android son, this movie from the start, and I rushed out to buy my own copy. It deserved more than a mere review, Dolph Lundgren's pecs agreed.

A little background on the He-Man universe, if you like. In the early 80's, Mattel started looking for new ways of promoting unique toy lines, and came up with the now-standard solution of paying people a huge chunk of money to produce 30-minute animated commercials for their lines. In other words, cartoons. Cartoons designed to do one thing and that thing well: to get kids to bug their parents to buy them all of the action figures they just saw. It worked brilliantly, and 80's Saturday morning TV became so rife with these promotions that many families simply sold their houses in order to raise enough funds to buy a 60' tall version of the Voltron fortress, which the kids could play with and the parents look at fondly as they lay huddled for warmth in their dirt hole.

He-Man started its run in 1982 as a comic book, and in 1983 it became an immensely popular TV cartoon series. He-Man is actually a wimpy dude named Prince Adam, who lives on the planet Eternia. Given special powers by the Sorceress, he has the ability to transform into a massive mostly-naked barbarian who wields a sword large enough to provide base metals for at least four cars, if properly melted down. No, we don't know why he doesn't just stay in He-Man form all the time, but there's some big "secret" about his identity that we dare not ruin. He-Man's got a lot of friends on his "good" side, who help him combat the "evil" Skeletor and various bad action figures, now on sale for $8.99 each! One of He-Man's questionable powers is a form of super-breath, but okay. Although the series seemed to be set in a barbaric world with magic and swords, there's also a lot of high-tech gadgets going around as well.

However, by 1987, the whole He-Man thing was a bit worn out (I, personally, could never get into the super-chunky toys), but filmmakers looking for a quick buck managed to pump out a live action film based on the series before the fad completely disappeared. It pretty much bombed on all levels, prompting filmmakers to turn the proposed sequel idea into a Jean-Claude Van Damme vehicle, Cyborg (no, really).

I think it's brilliant in its failure and the sheer number of outrageous intersections that take place in this film. And that is why we now go through it…

"I watched the movie again recently and guess what - its prety damn good and frankly, I don't think it belongs here on your list of 'bad movies' but hey - those that can, DO, and those that can't, write stupid criticisms with 'witty' cutdowns." - MOTU Director Gary Goddard, in response to Bad Movies.org mocking the film.

Before anything else, I just need to be on the record as saying that "Dolph" is just a cool, cool name. I approve of any names derived by shortening friendly sea creatures' titles to a manageable syllable; see also: "Peng", "Porp", and "Sting". 0:33

We begin with Mildly Sinister Narration Guy, who quickly clues us in to our current locale: "At the center of the universe… at the border between the light and the dark… stands Castle Greyskull." And also, in 2008, next to a brand new McDonald's! Now serving 100,000,000 skulls and climbing. MSNG goes on to tell us that, no matter what our religious beliefs, that the Sorceress of Castle Greyskull is what really has been keeping the universe balanced and at peace.

[flips on the evening news] Yeah, you've been doing a GREAT job, Sorceress.

Don't you forget about me, oh oh oh oh!

Apparently, MSNG intones, the Armies of Darkness (when not fighting Bruce Campbell) want Greyskull, because of Greyskull's ambiguous Power™. This Power™ will imbue the recipients with the ability to be lord of the entire cosmos, and also use some fairly kinky Technicolor effects over the opening credits. Cue happy, Superman-plagiarized music by Mr. Bill Conti, who you might remember from other classic movie scores such as The Next Karate Kid (actually, ALL of the Karate Kids), many of the Rockys, and Spy Hard.

While you're watching the nifty credits swoosh in and out, here's some more mild trivia about the film's director, Gary Goddard: other than doing this, his sole directorial experience, Goddard also had a teeny cameo in X-Men as a guy on the beach. I bet that's all sorts of disappointing when you tell your kids that you're in an X-Men film, and they're like, "Oh! Who are you? Wolverine? Gambit? Juggernaut?" And you have to crush their dreams with, "…no. I'm 'Guy on the Beach'. Number four." 1:19

Dill or Kosher?

I would like to point out that there's an actress here named "Christina Pickles". You'd really hope that's just a stage name, but what kind of hunger frenzy would induce "Pickles"? She's the Sorceress, by the way. Sorceress Pickles. 1:42

Then, for no reason, the credits explode. 2:38

We begin our tale on the planet of Eternia (remember, located at the exact center of the universe, where the Enterprise is trying to get to in order to hook up with God. Eternia looks not just a bit like a California desert with a matte painting of Castle Greyskull in the background, which we will all write off as coincidence and a tax shelter. Actually, forget that snarky comment about the locale, I wish to instead transfer my ire (deliciously fun ire, at that) to how much this film starts - and continues on unabashedly - as a pure rip-off of Star Wars. Earth-toned "Rebels" are being rounded up by black helmeted troopers, perhaps of the storm variety. We abruptly cut to a hall where an evil figure in black robes marches between an honor guard, all to a very good imitation of John William's score. I jest ye not.

Evil need not conform to OSHA safety standards

Ah, 'tis Skeletor, fresh from his vacation in Paraguay! Skeletor boasts an impressive array of Hot Topic accessories, including skull makeup (the black makeup on his nose tries to make it seem like he has a hole there, which is slightly defeated by any shot in profile), a comfortable hood, and a big honking staff with a ram's skull at the end of it. He marches and thumps his staff impressively. The shot widens to reveal the throne room of Greyskull, which comes complete with idling lackeys standing about, imposing statues, and yawning abysses everywhere. I don't see any guardrails, either. This all, of course, looks absolutely nothing like any Star Destroyer/Death Star bridge. Except that it does.

I made this point in my review, but here I go again: Castle Greyskull just goes with an evil lord like peanut butter with evil jelly. Why do the good guys want this place so much? There are skulls everywhere, not to mention the Pit of Eternal Torture and All-You-Can-Eat Salad Bar. You'd think a good guy fortress would be festooned with lilies, a genial old lady cooking bread in a kitchen located right off the throne room, overlooking a peaceful lake where semi-nude mermaids frolic.

Skeletor shows us right off the bat his two biggest personality traits. He's a jerk toward his subordinates, and he loves making long, evil, megalomaniac speeches. "Report, Evil-Lyn," he says, not pausing one whit before barking, "SPEAK!"

The bad guys are having a good day. They have captured the castle, the city, the planet, several moons, a couple gaseous anomalies, and a doddering senior citizen named Ted. Skelly is not happy; Skelly wants He-Man, leader of the resistance and all-around hunk of a guy, to kneel at his feet. We'll get into all this homoerotic fantasy stuff later, I assure you. There's whipping involved. Seriously.

Evil-Lyn is happy that they got the castle, which hopefully comes with a mirror so she can scrape off about two pounds of that gunk that she calls makeup. "The castle is ours!" she crows. "NO!" Skelly shouts. "It's mine!" Yeah. Way to go to inspire the employees of darkness, there. They do all the work, and you just decay a little in luxury. Unfortunately, for all his conquests, Skelly has yet to receive the Power™ of Greyskull, which requires an absolutely absurd amount of scavenger hunting to accomplish. Just wait and see. He walks over to interrogate the Sorceress, who clashes a bit with the midnight theme by daring to show up in a virginal white dress and a starburst headpiece. Since Skelly's already been a jerk today, he's gotta switch to his other mode: dull speechmaking.

Sucking the life force out of Pickles AND viewers

"I've won! I've won! The darkness is rising… to embrace you," he taunts Pickles. The Sorceress stands there with a stupid grin on her face, saying that he hasn't won because Frodo, I mean He-Man, is still alive. "I can FEEL it," she beams, clutching her hands to her womb. Well, if you can feel it, then okey-dokey. All is well. Skelly doesn't like backtalk, so he blasts Pickles with a milky white beam of drowsiness; Pickles gasps a bit and nods off, snoring a bit. Evil-Lyn is happy at this. She reminds me of those girls who have a boyfriend who doesn't even really like her that much, but she's too in love to see it and she spends all her days toadying up to him in a vain attempt to gain a scrap of affection. 4:45

Skelly TV: All speeches, all the time

"Activate the Holosphere!" Skelly commands. This is something I've always found odd about the Masters of the Universe universe: it straddles a weird line between Dark Ages décor (torches, swords, castles) and futuristic wonders (ray guns, hoverships, holospheres). Also, it's the "in thing" to either wear a crapload of gaudy jewelry, or else be mostly naked for all to see your man-chest. The holosphere activates presumably hundreds of external platforms, where the captured rebels and the stormtroopers witness a blurry resolution of Skelly's head going off about being the champions my friends, and he'll keep on fighting 'till the end. But what is this? This dashing figure that stands defiantly on a hilltop, clutching a giant letter opener, cape swirling in the wind? It's HE-MAN! Cue audience cheering! Cue confetti! Cue cuties! Skelly finishes his demonic speech, and He-Man turns around, his bare He-Nipples angry at Skelly's imposition. 5:24

He's her sugardaddy, oh yes

Another shot of the stormtroopers hauling away the defeated rebels. I actually like how these shots look; they give you a clear and vivid aftermath of an event we haven't seen, but we can easily guess at. He-Man leaps into the middle of a supply column of troopers and goes all wonky on them - slashing with his He-Sword and degenerating into a series of dull close-ups of swords and laser bolts and grunting expressions. I can't help but notice that he takes FAR more troopers out with his laser rifle (which shoots beams that go, tops, 15 miles per hour) than with his gigantic sword. After a bit, he gets fancy and starts deflecting the laser beams with his lightsaber back to the users. Too bad the good guys aren't wearing suits of pure aluminum foil, eh? The battle ends, and knownst to He-Man but unknownst to us, Man-At-Arms and Teela have been helping him. They all look pleasantly surprised to see each other (lots of "Thank the Sorceress you're alive!"). Man-At-Arms is a pseudo-commando guy who wears a lot of science fiction armor that would look perfect on an eight year-old, but not so much on this guy who's seen 48 turns of the galaxy. Teela… well, let's just say she looks perfect for an 80's movie: lots of spandex and headbands and wild, untamed hair. He-Man goes for the full body hug with Teela, while Man-At-Arms gets the consolation prize of a head pat. There's some talk about how bad the battle for Greyskull was, which sounds quite expensive and thank the Sorceress that the audience has an imagination to fill in the gaps. "Someone betrayed us," Teela postulates.

"Help, help!" an annoying, high-pitched voice says from a net on the road. Teela wants to shoot it, and I give her my full blessing. Although I do question whether she's in the habit of often shooting defenseless critters entrapped by nets. It was a different time, in 1987. Anyway, it's your "friend" and mine, Gwildor. Gwildor is the SAG-standard annoying little creature with a big mouth that comes standard in most all fantasy flicks. Nobody likes him, nobody wants him, but he's there because some studio executive out there thought their little girl would emotionally connect with a tiny on-screen troll. Gwildor has decent makeup, looking a bit like a leprechaun, although the suit is so stiff that his mouth barely moves when he talks. He introduces himself as an inventor and nitwit, saying that Skelly's forces were hunting him down. Again, they have my blessing. Man-At-Arms utters these words of doom, "Any enemy of Skeletor is a friend of ours." Um, hold on a minute with that thought. You don't know what you're getting into. Befriend one Gwildor today, and tomorrow you'll have a full-fledged infestation of them in your basement. Just wait and see. "Now, why are you so important to Skeletor?" He-Man says, his mouth almost as stiff as Gwildor. Now, as much as I'd like to dump on Dolph for his poor, stilted speech, I'm afraid to do so — the man holds a third-degree black belt in karate, and actually has a masters in chemical engineering. He could kick my face off, then melt it with base acids. 7:35

Time for a random fact: Gwildor is played by little person actor Billy Barty, who was the midget cameraman from UHF and a stand-in for hobbits when they did the rotoscoped Lord of the Rings cartoon. Another random fact: Barty was 63 when he filmed this!

Gwildor takes them back to his hobbit hole, and the threesome enter, all with their weapons drawn. Smart guys. The troll shows the good guys the whole reason for Skelly's smackdown on Gwildor - the dumbest looking invention of all time, the "Cosmic Key". As a plot device, it's a shaky one. The Cosmic Key is a two-foot mechanical pillar of sorts with a lot of tuning forks pointing out of the sides, and will be mentioned in the rest of this film at the running rate of two times per minute. Apparently, it's better than sex and chocolate combined, and Skelly's not gotten either in a long, long time. Gwildor turns it on, and the tuning forks spin, making it look like those machines you'd use to unclog drains. He explains that the tones it makes - yes, those overbearing synthesizer tones you're listening to in the background - can open a doorway to anywhere. Anywhere. Lots of technical babble. But, doorway to anywhere. The Key is how Skeletor got into Greyskull in the first place, which makes Gwildor the betrayer and deserving of a long and quite painful death. Teela calls him a "little worm", which is a good start to the process, but He-Man interrupts.

Now, follow along, because this plot device isn't without a few complications. Gwildor apparently got hoodwinked into giving the key over to Evil-Lyn, which is now in Skelly's hot little hands, but Gwildor has this prototype backup key. Sure, they COULD use it to get back into the castle behind Skelly's back, but some more technobabble cancels this out - Skelly's key would intercept the other key and surprise would be lost. Happily, before my brain can explode from too many people talking about keys, the bad guys show up to attack. 10:25