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Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Zombie 3

Release Year: 1988
Country: Italy
Starring: Deran Sarafian, Beatrice Ring, Ottaviano Dell'Acqua, Massimo Vanni, Ulli Reinthaler, Marina Loi, Deborah Bergamini.
Writer: Lucio Fulci and Claudio Fragasso
Director: Lucio Fulci, Claudio Fragasso, and Bruno Mattei
Cinematographer: Riccardo Grassetti
Music: Stefano Mainetti
Producer: Franco Gaudenzi
Availability: Buy it from Amazon


1988, Italy. Starring Deran Sarafian, Beatrice Ring, Ottaviano Dell'Acqua, Massimo Vanni, Ulli Reinthaler, Marina Loi, Deborah Bergamini. Written by Lucio Fulci and Claudio Fragasso. Directed by Lucio Fulci, Bruno Mattei, and Claudio Fragasso.

Many people will list Plan Nine from Outer Space as the undisputed king of movies considered so awful they're wonderful, and I'll give the devil his due. That's a damn fine film. But if I were to update things a bit, I wouldn't hesitate to install Zombie 3 as the new reigning king of bad film. Mere words fail to capture just how truly entertaining this horrid piece of tripe is. For those who don't know the story, Lucio Fulci raked in the big bucks with his tropical island romp Zombie, and like any decent director taking orders from a greedy producer figured why not cash in on the success and do a sequel. The proposed Zombie 3 was troubled from the get-go.

Fulci was entering a particularly cranky stage in his life, a frame of mind that was only exasperated by his failing health. The script for Zombie 3 was thin, even by Fulci's standards, little more than a vague treatment which Fulci expected to hash out and make up on the spot. When it became apparent that Fulci's increasingly bad health and cantankerousness were going to conspire to make sure that wasn't going to happen, screenwriter Claudio Fragasso and director Bruno Mattei were called in to patch things up, which is sort of like calling in the Three Stooges to fix your leaky plumbing.

Fulci turned in a film that was well under the minimum requirement for a feature length presentation, but he insisted that this was the complete film. Exactly what he shot and how much of it remains in what was eventually released is a source of constant contention. Some sources attribute as much as two-thirds of the film to Fulci while others claim scarcely more than fifteen minutes of his material was used in the final cut. In interviews, Fragasso has attempted to tidy up the record and give credit where credit is due, dissecting which scenes were written and filmed by Fulci and which were dreamed up by he and Mattei. In the end, it seems more of the film belongs to Fulci than was originally thought, but in terms of his commitment to the vision and the overall feel of the film, this is a Fragasso/Mattei affair.


"A Fragasso/Mattei affair" is probably the scariest thing about this movie. Both men are notorious and celebrated for working fast and cheap, churning out lowest common denominator grindhouse fodder with complete disregard for just about anything but getting the job done. Fulci, at least, had his artistic vision, however cracked it may have been. The directorial work of Bruno Mattei, on the other hand, lacks any distinguishable characteristic unless you count "intolerably awful." And while Fulci's films often sacrificed narrative cohesion and logic in favor of surreal spectacle, Claudio Fragasso's scripts lack the same qualities but simply because he was in a hurry. However misguided you may thing Fulci's artistic direction was, if indeed you think it was misguided at all, you can at least recognize that he had a vision when compared to someone like Fragasso, who was simply sloppy and inattentive. Not that that translates into his scripts, daft as they may be, being any less fun. He is Fulci stripped of artistic pretense and charged instead with giddy don't-give-a-damn pulp sensibilities.

Being a patchwork film from three different people, it's no surprise that Zombie 3 has very little to hold it together. At times, it seems to switch from one film to an entirely different film as it wavers between the "soldiers running amok" action scenes shot by Fragasso and Mattei and the moody "pokin' around in the decay" scenes presumably shot by Fulci. Technically, it has nothing to tie it officially to Zombie other than Fulci's involvement, but it's not so hard to draw the films together. In Zombie, it was suspected that voodoo was the cause of all the living dead troubles, but Menard dismisses that as superstition and indeed we're really never given any reason to believe that there's not some natural or man-made reason for all the restless corpses. In Zombie 3 it's stated obviously in a hammy prologue full of helicopters and shouting and running about that all the zombie action is being caused by a biological weapon that was accidentally unleashed when a terrorist attempted to steal it. Personally, I've never quite understood the whole "zombie-ism as a weapon" thing even though it's been used as a way to explain where the zombies come from in countless films. What kind of weapon is a zombie or zombie virus? Sure you'll decimate your enemy's population, but then it will spread to the next country, and the next, et cetera. You can't control the zombies, and just because you drop them off in Iraq doesn't mean they'll stop at the Turkish border. There just seem like better ways of going about conquering people.


The film starts off on a tropical island, much like Zombie, although this is a different tropical island with more people. Some scientists are carting around a super deadly biological warfare cannister. Does it get stolen by a terrorist? But of course. And naturally, the terrorist drops it and it opens up, because all biohazard material is transported in thin glass vials. You ever notice these canisters of biotoxins and plagues seem to pop open easier than your average bottle of aspirin? Someone should teach the military about the virtues of "To open, push down and twist."

Before too long, the terrorist -- who flees to a high profile luxury inn rather than trying to actually hide out or catch the first boat out of town -- is infecting people with the virus, which turns them into flesh-eating zombies. Yep, always with the flesh eating, aren't they? The military moves in to contain the outbreak but bungles the job. They burn the infected bodies, which releases the toxin into the air. Didn't these guys see Return of the Living Dead? The heat also makes the virus more powerful, much to the surprise of the scientists involved. Now, granted I haven't had a chemistry class since high school, and even back then I didn't do so hot, but it seems to be that of all the tests you can run on a substance, seeing what heat does to it is one of the most basic things you'd do. Wouldn't that be like the first test you run? Well, not these scientists. Pretty much everything surprises them, and like all horror movie scientists they spend the entire film yelling, "We need more time to find an antidote!"


The zombie plague gets out, and soon enough, you got zombies all over the place. A group of soldiers on leave team up with some sexy ladies in an RV and get attacked by infected birds. I guess this is one of the only films where something other than people gets affected by zombie-ism, and maybe it explains what might happen to that shark in the first film, although it still doesn't answer the question of if zombie humans only eat other humans, do zombie sharks only eat other sharks. Anyway, they load up their wounded, proclaim their need for immediate medical attention, and go to an abandoned hotel. Because when you think emergency medical attention, you think abandoned hotel. They take it one step further by leaving the wounded at the hotel and sending some healthy guy to get the doctor. Wouldn't it make more sense to put the wounded in the plush RV and drive them to the doctor instead of going to the hospital and bringing the doctor back?

Never mind. People are getting wounded all over the place, and all the wounds fester and bubble the way we like it, causing one of our heroes to utter, "That's not pus. It's something much worse." While poking around the abandoned hotel, they find a crate of machine guns and flame throwers. Now this may seem silly until you remember that down in the tropics they are always having revolutions and coups, so I figure most places have a cache of automatic weapons. Finding the weapons makes one of the guys utter the line, "Good! We'll need those!" even though at this point they have absolutely no idea anything at all is going wrong other than some birds got ticked off at them. They have seen no zombies, and no one's even threatened them. But they still strut around wielding their newfound toys, and well, so would I.


And then the zombies come. Some of the zombies do the slow zombie shuffle we've come to expect. Some of them haul ass and use machetes. There's really no consistency among the living dead. Some of them moan and creep about, and others are able to hold down jobs as popular morning DJs. This is one of the only films where you'll see a zombie just haul off and kick someone's ass. None of that mindless groping and grasping. No, this guy assumes a boxing stance and whips out the right hooks and some aikido submission holds. You're a piss poor fighter if a zombie makes you tap out. Some of the other zombies hide in closets and on top of pillars. It makes for a dramatic entrance, but you gotta wonder what the hell these zombies were thinking. Was that zombie perched up on top of the pillar for hours and hours in hopes that someone might happen by so he could jump down on them? Did the zombie crawl in the kitchen cabinet of an old abandoned hut out in the jungle just giggling about that one day when someone might come and stand next to it? I won't even talk about the zombie hiding under the pregnant woman in the hospital.

Oh sure I will. So they go to the hospital, and everyone has been evacuated except for one perfectly alive pregnant woman. For some reason, they left her behind. I guess no one wants to deliver a baby while running from zombies. That's just too television sit-com. And for some other reason, the zombies don't eat her. They just sort of hide around her, waiting for someone else to come in. That way, they can burst through her stomach for a big shock. Of course, it would be easier for the zombie to just get out from under the table or something, but what the hell? What fun is a zombie rolling around on the floor when he could pop up through a pregnant woman's stomach? I like to imagine him and his zombie chums laughing and going, "This is going to be so cool!" as they all squat down in their hiding places and wait for someone to happen along.


What else have we got? Why would you pull into an abandoned gas station, where rags are hanging from the sign and all the windows and doors are boarded up, then wander around inside, amid all the rubble and cobwebs, going "Is anybody here? Hello? We need help!" I mean, the place was boarded up! What about a boarded up building covered in trash and cobwebs makes you think someone might be in there hiding, refusing to acknowledge you until you recount to them your entire story up to that moment? When I see abandoned, boarded-up buildings, the first thing that pops into my mind isn't "Why I bet a helpful person is in there waiting to lend a hand to someone with a story like mine!"

And then there's the flying zombie head in the refrigerator. No scene in any movie has ever made me loose my lunch, but I lost it during this scene. Not because it's gory; just because, well, a zombie head was sitting in the refrigerator and comes shooting out when someone opens it, and then it goes flying all over the damn place. I thought things like that only happened in Hong Kong horror films! Ironically, a number of Fulci fans have pointed to the sheer lunacy of that scene as proof that Fulci himself had very little to do with the film. After all, why would the maestro of moody gore put in such a ludicrous gag? It turns out that in interviews, Fulci himself claims responsibility for the flying zombie head, and not only does he claim responsibility for it, he's damn proud of it and seems to think it one of the best things he'd ever come up with. So it's not so much proof of his lack of complicity as it is proof of the fact that he was really out of his gourd when making this movie.

This is all a pleasant climax to a scene in which a couple people leave the group to go look for food. Because you know, when you are in an abandoned hotel in the middle of the jungle, you never know when they might have some Vienna Sausages they forgot to take with them. So they get attacked by the zombie head, which reminded me of an episode of The Three Stooges where a skull falls on an owl and the owl goes flying all around, so there's this skull with little wings sticking out the ear holes fluttering all about and messing with Shemp. It really did crack me up back in the day. Anyway, six hours after they leave, no one ever bothers to question what might have become of the people who stepped into the next room, nor what all that shrieking and shooting might have been about.


Meanwhile, this one dude is still driving to the hospital. This island must be the size of South America. He leaves in broad daylight, and by dawn, the idiot is still driving to the hospital. Amid all this, some other soldiers are marching around in those biohazard suits, shooting anything and everything that moves.

To Zombie 3's credit, it is action-packed. No scenes of people thinking about stuff or contemplating the end of the world. Nope, they're just out there shooting at the living dead and getting eaten. Zombie 3 is both one of the worst zombie films I've ever seen and one of my favorites. Rarely do the elements of incompetence come together so beautifully as they do in this gory masterpiece of ineptness. It may not make your top ten list, but I guarantee that you'll have one hell of a time watching it, that you'll watch it again, and that you'll make all your friends watch it.


The zombies and make-up effects are a real let-down after de Rossi set the bar incredibly high with his still-unmatched work in Zombie. Even Tom Savini's creations for Day of the Dead pale in comparison to Zombie's shambling mounds of flesh. Zombie 3, on the other hand, tends to go more with the "slap some red paint and oatmeal on them" style of effects, which fall dramatically short of being satisfactory, even by Z-grade film standards. The same goes for the acting, the dreary score, and just about everything else. There are a few scenes of moody interest, but they're quickly undercut by the stupidity of the script, which is, coincidentally, the only real thing this film has going for it.

When Lucio Fulci came back from the hospital and saw what happened to the film, he screamed, tried to make them take his name off it, and then died a few years later. I don't know if that last one is actually related to this film, but I'm sure Zombie 3 didn't help. Personally, I don't see why Fulci would hate it so much. It's not much worse than some of that crap he made. I mean, dude, you made Murder Rock! Zombie 3 makes no sense, has bland characters, cheap zombies, lots of gore, and a plot that seems to have been assembled by third graders on crystal meth. I would think Fulci would have liked it.

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Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Zombie

Oh, the evils that have been committed in the name of the Italian zombie movie. Vile and disgusting are many of them, completely devoid of social and cinematic value, totally disrespectful to the boundaries of good taste and good sense, utterly oblivious to the concepts of logic and cohesive narrative. These are, naturally, their good points. Among film fanatics, and especially among those who tend to dwell within the ranks of the less respectable end of the cinematic society, the worth of Italian horror films is a hotly contested debate. Italians do gory horror like no one else in the world. Coherence, quality acting, any semblance of a story, and even the slightest shred of logic or quality are less valuable than sheer spectacle, which I suppose is not an altogether rare attitude these days even outside the realm of what professionals in the film studies world refer to as Italian "gut munchers."

The Italian zombie films came largely in response to George Romero's knock-down drag-out zombie adventure epic Dawn of the Dead, itself partially financed by two of the best-known names in Italian horror cinema, director Dario Argento and his producer brother, Claudio. Though undoubtedly inspired by Romero's films, and while generally adhering to the laws of the living dead as set down in Romero's Night of the Living Dead (you must shoot them in the head to kill them, being bitten by a zombie turns you into a zombie, a group of strangers must band together to battle the zombies, et cetera), many of the Italian productions end their similarities there. Romero's films were equal parts horror and heavy handed social commentary, with society in general and the industrial-military complex in particular being the target of the filmmaker's disdain. In Italy, any social commentary that may be derived from such genre staples as the leaky radiation plant or a biological weapons experiment gone awry being responsible for the plague of zombies is purely window dressing, and the Italians are generally as likely to attribute the rising of the dead to voodoo and the supernatural as anything else. It doesn't matter really, so long as it gets the corpses out of the ground and shambling about in search of flesh and blood.

At the forefront of the zombie movie explosion was another of the best-known name in Italian horror cinema: Lucio Fulci. Along with Argento, those two have undoubtedly sparked more vehement arguments about the merits of their work than any other directors in horror film history, with fans celebrating each man as a visionary genius or dismissing him as a talentless hack. The truth, obviously, lies somewhere in between, as it always does. Both men have had their flashes of brilliance and idiocy. And when it comes to Italian movies, one fan's idiocy is often another fan's work of art. What one mind poo-poos as slapdash nonsense another mind regards as surrealistic brilliance, and both sides of the argument are equally adept at shielding themselves from the criticisms of the other. It's best then, in my opinion, not to examine these films as being "good" or "bad," whatever that may mean, while pretending to attain some level of objectivity as if such malleable concepts could be scientifically measured and proven, but rather instead to surrender entirely to the subjectivity that governs all assessment of art, accept it as an integral lens through which we regard everything, and state simply whether or not we as individuals with individual biases and tastes, enjoyed the film. And while I may balk at pronouncing Lucio Fulci's films to be works of genius or buffoonery, and while what I consider to be good or bad in a film is tenuous at best, I can say without hesitation that, regardless of my feelings in any of these debates, I enjoy Italian zombie films.

Like Romero, Lucio Fulci has what is often referred to as his zombie trilogy, consisting of Zombie, City of the Living Dead, and The Beyond. On a different road, however, we can see an Italian zombie film trilogy that consists of Zombie, Zombie 3, and Zombie 4: After Death with Bruno Mattei's Hell of the Living Dead trailing things as a possible addendum. This Italian zombie trilogy (plus one, if you want to be gracious to Mattei), while not being directly linked from film to film, encompasses a general narrative arc that focuses on the trouble with the living dead down in the tropics. All three films take place on tropical islands and feature vacationers and scientists versus the zombies. There is also a steady decline in quality from one movie to the next, though that doesn't necessarily equate to a decline in the enjoyment one can mine from them, depending on your particular state of mind.

The fun begins with Zombie, probably the best known of Fulci's horror/splatter films and definitely his most coherent. In Italy, Dawn of the Dead was released as Zombi, and thus Zombie is also known as Zombi 2, which is why the trilogy skips from Zombie directly to Zombie 3. For our purposes here, we'll call this film Zombie, and you can just deal with the lapse in numerics. Although it suffers an attempt to unofficially link itself to Dawn of the Dead, comparing this film to that is ridiculous. Aside from having the living dead running amok, the films are completely different. Dawn of the Dead is as much a political and social film as it is a horror film, with as much scathing political and social criticism as gushing blood. Zombie is a film about zombies, and they want to eat people. And that's pretty much it. The trouble begins when a deserted boat floats into New York City's harbor area. Cops go to look around and are soon set upon by a morbidly obese zombie who then falls into the water. For some reason, the cops make no attempt to apprehend him after this point even though he should just be floating there like a cork in the Hudson River. Despite the fact that he is a cop killer, they are content to just let bygones be bygones and forget the whole affair.

The boat belongs to the father of a young woman named Anne, played by Mia Farrow's less famous but seemingly more fun sister, Tisa. Anne happens to live in New York and had been wondering what happened to her dad ever since he mysteriously disappeared while doing some sort of research down in the tropics. It being a horror film, she decided to investigate the matter on her own. She's joined by the nosy and annoying reporter who seems to be a permanent fixture in all Fulci films, played here by British actor and Italian horror film stalwart Ian McCulloch. I hope that when the day comes that the world must be saved from the forces of hell, we can muster up better champions than an uppity woman and some boring reporter guy. Surely there are crusading knights and mystic types who are better equipped to handle this sort of thing.

Small bump in the road to death is that they forgot to find out where the island, called Matoul, actually is. So they just sort of blindly strike out, and lucky for them they run into a couple down in the tropics who know where Matoul is, more or less. Actually, they don't, but searching for a lost island seems like a fun way to pass the time on a vacation. Lucky for us the female of the couple enjoys nude scuba diving. You can always count on Fulci for plenty of gratuitous sex and gore, and gratuitous is the way those things ought to be. They are only slightly phased by an underwater battle between a zombie and a shark. This is probably one of the most famous scenes in the movie (but the most famous is yet to come). It's also one of the silliest. I can accept the underwater zombie. Sure. But how the hell can human teeth bite giant chunks out of a shark? Especially rotten zombie teeth. Have you ever felt a shark? Their skin, much like Run DMC, is tougher than leather. Somehow, this zombie is able to kick shark ass, bite it, and who knows what else. A zombie outmaneuvering a shark underwater. Okay. And what happens to a shark when it gets bitten by a zombie? Does it become a zombie shark? Does that mean it stops eating other things and only attacks its own kind? If so, then I would think zombie sharks are actually pretty safe. Questions about inter-species zombism will have to be shelved, however, at least until Zombie 3.

Upon arriving on the island where everyone is sweaty, they soon discover the place is just brimming over with the living dead, and one of the doctors, a man named Menard, is doing his darndest to kill them all, but just isn't having much luck. You get almost as many sweaty close-ups of this guy as you get of Eli Wallach in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. The locals insist that it's all some sort of voodoo vengeance. The doctor insists that there is a logical explanation for it all. That old chesnut. Some of the dead people are ancient Conquistadors who are remarkably well held-together for being dead and buried in the moist tropics for so long. Whatever the case, there's nothing logical about it, Doc. So just accept the voodoo thing, pound some more booze, and get to killin'.

Despite the fact that the island is under attack by scores of the living dead, the doctor leaves his wife home alone and then asks our heroes to go check on her. In turn, the wife decides that zombies are scary and all, but this is a Lucio Fulci movie, so she better strip down and take a shower. Shockingly enough, the zombies attack her in the shower, bursting through the window and delivering the most famous scene in the movie, and one of the most famous scenes in horror history: the gouging of the eye. It's a great effect, as the zombie squishes the woman's eye into a splinter of wood and lots of oozy stuff gushes out. It's a tad silly in the set-up, as the zombie seems to take his own sweet time in lining the eye up and everything. But whatever. The end results is a great gore effect, and you can't fault the zombie for wanting to turn his attacks into a sort of art.

Having succeeded in their mission to see how the doctor's wife is doing (they discovered she was dead), the cast indulges in the official "mad running about" people always do in zombie films. They decide going back to their boat may be a pretty good idea at this point, but there are just too many corpses shambling about to make it easy. Thus begins the wild orgy of blood spurting, head shooting, pus dripping, worm squirming, and flesh chomping that makes us all love Lucio Fulci so dearly. He certainly doesn't hold back on the gore here. Every effect is dwelled upon in bloody glee, and for the most part, they are top notch even under scrutiny. One of the guys falls for that old thing where you see a loved one who has now become a zombie and you mutter their name and stare, hoping that they will remember you or something. And then they kill you. We'll discuss that in a bit, because that old trick has always irked me.

Zombie is not a perfect film, not by any stretch of the imagination. The characters are wooden beyond belief, yet are among Fulci's most human creations, which isn't really saying a whole lot. But in what is a definite rarity in Italian horror, none of the main characters are assholes or particularly irritating. You may not care all that much about them, but this is one of the few films that at least attempts to portray them in a positive and sympathetic light. Later and lesser films would simply rely on everyone being obnoxious, hateful, and loud as a means of establishing a character. At least the script here doesn't fall back on that tried and true method of making sure you cheer for the special effects, and instead tries to engage you on some emotional level so that you might be mor einterested in what happens to the people you're watching. The story is more or less coherent but still full of the stupid behavior and decisions that plague all horror films. The acting is surprisingly good from most members of the cast. McCulloch and Richard Johnson as Menard are top notch, and Italian genre film staple Al Cliver as one half of the put-upon vacationing couple is his usual sort of dumb self. Tisa Farrow is the real weak link in the cast, and she often looks more dazed and confused than terrified or determined. Luckily, McCulloch and Menard get to carry the bulk of the dramatics, and they're up to the task. In the end, however, such things are of secondary consideration. The Italian horror film is all about the image and atmosphere, about creating a smothering, nightmarish landscape where logic and reason takes a back seat if it's even invited along for the ride at all.

And when it comes to atmosphere, Fulci succeeds in spades. Though less surreal and poetic than his later zombie films, Zombie possesses a gritty, exhausting sense of desperation and decay. Once we get to the island, there's not a scene that doesn't overflow with death. Buildings are ramshackle and crumbling, streets are dusty and deserted. Everything is cluttered and broken and hopeless. You can feel the humidity. One of the most evocative shots is of a deserted village street, windswept and dusty, with a lone corpse shuffling along in the background. Other shots, such as ones of Menard's filthy hospital filled with corpses wrapped in white sheets, continue to prove that at least in a film like this, the individual parts are worth more than their sum total.

In many films, viewers are frustrated by the characters' inability to outrun the much slower living dead. With Zombie, Fulci lets us feel frustration, but it is a more satisfying sense, as it comes from the fact that it's not so much that characters can't outrun the zombies as it is generated from the fact that there's nowhere to run to even if they could. The island is a prison, a tomb, and even though the film may lack the trappings of more traditional stories, it is an ace at communicating feeling.

All of this is thanks in part to Fulci's commitment to the image, but nothing smaller than a great sum of the credit should be ascribed to cinematographer Sergio Salvati. Salvati is a master of composition and one of the most accomplished eyes in all of cinema. With a resume that reaches as far back as being an assistant cameraman on films like Hercules Unchained and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, Salvati became the cinematographer of choice for Fulci and a host of other Italian thriller directors. It's arguable that much of the genius attributed to certain directors can, in fact, be traced back primarily to their decision to employ Salvati, who has the an unparalleled talent for making even the worst films look interesting.

The zombies, which are the real attraction here, are great. I may like Romero's movies more, but no one does zombie make-up like Fulci and his crew, headed by special effects wizard Gianetto de Rossi. De Rossi, like Salvati, would become a Fulci film regular, and he only got better with each subsequent outing into the land of the living dead.

After a shaky set-up in New York and a little too much steel drum music down in the Caribbean, the movie sets a quick pace, building to a pretty exciting climax. I always thought Fulci had a problem with pacing. His movies have lots of long, boring stretches in which nothing happens. Zombie manages to avoid that for the most part and moves along at a breathtaking little pace that doesn't see any reason to relent once it kicks things into high gear. Although the final showdown may not exactly be scary, it's certainly a white-knuckle example of "survival horror" at its finest.

And speaking of the finest, that concept should be dropped entirely when discussing Fulci's half-baked, half-finished follow-up, Zombie 3.

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posted by Keith at | 0 Comments


Monday, February 18, 2002

Conquest

1983, Italy. Starring Violeta Cela, Andrea Occhipinti, Jorge Rivero, Conrado San Martin, Gioia Scola, Sabrina Siani. Directed by Lucio Fulci. Available on DVD (Amazon).

After reviewing so many sword, sandal, and sorcery films, I thought I might be qualified to proffer an educated guess as to when "barbarian times" actually happened. Best as I can tell, they fall somewhere between the early neolithic era and the middle ages. The distant future becomes an issue in films like Yor, The Hunter From the Future, but using standard statistical methods means we can discount an isolated extreme event of time-traveling barbarians.

Still that leaves us with a pretty big gap, and it gets only bigger when you also work in notions about the proverbial "ancient times of magick and dragynns" that play host to everything from Tolkien to Dungeons and Dragons. Taking all that into account, and knowing what I know about history and the migratory habits of nomadic tribes the world over, I feel I can safely say "barbarian times" happened in the late 1800s and involved Teddy Roosevelt in some capacity, that capacity being one of a guy who grins and exclaims "Bully!" a lot.

You may feel like debating my conclusion, which is your right.

Anyway on to movie reviews. When the whole "buff guy on a quest through ancient lands" genre was revived in the 1980s, it meant a lot of people were rushing to make barbarian films to cash in on the sword and sandal craze. And when it comes to bleeding a genre dry, we know the buck stops with the Italians. No one abuses a genre more. No one squeezes more films from a dried up lemon of a dying genre than the Italians. And at the same time, no one takes the respective genres to such mind blowing extremes.

In the case of Conquest, a movie about fog and the things men do whilst enshrouded in it, not only do we get Italian exploitation at its weirdest, but we get it compliments of everyone's favorite film freak, Lucio Fulci. Though I'm often critical of Fulci and will always consider him and his films vastly over-rated, I also find a lot of his work intriguing, and I definitely find his vision and ambition impressive, even if the gulf between his dreams and his reality was often insurmountable. But for every crap horror film like New York Ripper that he cursed us with, he redeemed himself with films like The Beyond and City of the Living Dead, which while flawed, showcased a wonderful sort of mad genius at work.

What I always liked best about Fulci, and what always keeps me loving his work despite its shortcomings, was his anarchistic attitude. When he was told something could not be done, he would do it. When he was told something had to be done a certain way, he would raise hell and refuse. Sure his films are inconsistent, but the man possessed a passion for his craft, and a vision of his art, that was unwavering, inspiring, and all too rare. When you take into account that Fulci labored away in one of the most crass, greedy film industries in the world, his commitment to his warped dreams becomes all the more impressive.

His vision, of course, was to take film and make it surreal, hallucinatory, and fantastical. He wanted his films to have more in common with dreams and nightmares than reality, and he often succeeded. His style was frequently communicated at the expense of coherency, but how often are dreams coherent? What mattered at the end of The Beyond wasn't that it made no sense; what mattered was that it was such a striking, nightmarish image. Had Fulci become a painter instead of a filmmaker, I'm certain his work would have rivaled that of Dali and other surrealist masters.

Surrealism in film is a double-edged sword. On the one side, it opens you up to criticism from people with minds too closed to comprehend what you are trying to do. On the other hand, it allows you to mask your more embarrassing moments behind the guise of "surrealism" and "invoking a dreamlike state." At the same time, Fulci had to contend with his films being criticized for weak elements that were not his fault. He could not control the fact that the dubbing was often atrocious, that scenes were cut out or re-edited back into the film in the wrong order, or that the video transfer of a particular film was dark to the point of worthlessness. Yet critics always seem to target the film itself rather than these individual, after the fact elements. How many times a day does someone refer to the bad dubbing of kungfu and Godzilla films as if they were made that way in the first place?

Of course, Fulci was not always successful in achieving his vision, and this problem is apparent nowhere more than in his non-horror films. His forays into comedy are best left unmentioned, along with John Woo's early attempts at a career in directing slapstick. His westerns are average, and his one action/crime film, The Smuggler is a study in mind-numbing tedium until the final half hour. His science fiction film was marred by a low budget and cheap appearance.

But how would the master fare in a genre that was actually connected, at least tangentially, to his home turf of horror? How would he do in a genre that thrived as much as, if not more than, horror films on images of the fantastic and grotesque? In short, what would a sword and sorcery film directed by Lucio Fulci look like?

And the quick answer is that it would look misty.

There's actually more fog present in this film than in John Carpenter's The Fog, and there was a hell of a lot of fog in that movie, primarily because it was a movie about monsters that hid inside a haunted fog bank. You can't really make a movie about haunted fog without a lot of fog, and Conquest has even more fog than that. Even when they are inside caves and secret lairs everything remains foggy. Sometimes they even pump the fog in just for the hell of it.

The movie opens with a mail-order Zeus superimposed on a beach which is, of course, shrouded in mist. Other super-imposed characters loiter about, and one of them must be special because some women are strapping a leather vest onto him. There, now he can be one of the Warriors. The Zeus looking guy tells this guy, who is named Illyan, that it's time for him to become a great hero. Illyan doesn't look particularly heroic, so in order to pep him up a little, the Zeus type tells him a story about a great warrior who was fighting off some ne'r-do-wells with his bow, and when he ran out of arrows, the sun was so impressed with his valor that it offered up its own rays for him to use as fiery arrows with which he could fell his enemies.

Illyan finds this all pretty cool, so he sets out on his quest. I have no idea what the hell his quest was. I guess it was just sort of a general purpose quest. You know, trod the earth beneath your sandaled feet, fight evil queens whenever you can, walk around in the mist a lot. That sort of thing. So Illyan is sort of like Charles Kuralt.

While he is paddling around in the fog, we get a look at some cavemen types who are being hassled by some, ummm, werewolf looking things, or possibly the cast of Cats. The werewolf things are demanding monetary tribute from the cavemen, which seems like a pretty stupid thing to demand from people who haven't even figured out the wheel, let alone systems of money management and the use of QuickBooks. Pissed that the cavemen have yet to invent money to pay them off, the werewolf warriors squish the brains of an old man, then tear a naked woman in half while Fulci's camera lingers gleefully on the spilling guts in an evisceration scene that would be repeated in Demonia with even greater effect.

Meanwhile, Illyan's first act of bravery after rowing his little dingy from one fog-covered realm to the next fog-covered realm (I half expected to see Goliath the gargoyle and his crew rowing along next to the guy), is to save a cute primitive woman from a snake. Not a big snake like Conan fought, just a regular snake. Sure, it was venomous, but as far as legendary acts of valor are concerned, "he shot a snake with his bow from a little ways off" doesn't really rank up there among the most impressive. Now if he shot the snake, then did that thing where he split his arrow by shooting another directly at it -- well that's a different story.

Unfortunately for our somewhat weenie hero, who reminded me of disco Larry who lived above Jack and the girls in Three's Company, the girl runs off and he is quickly attacked by a gang of werewolf men. You know, it's bad enough to be attacked by a bunch of werewolves, but it's even worse when they are carrying swords. He fells a bunch of them with his arrows, but he runs out. Apparently, much like me, the sun was not all that impressed with Illyan up to this point, so no fiery arrows for him. He just gets his ass kicked.

Luckily, another hero, this one named Mace, happens by and defeats the werewolf warriors by waving a rock at them and doing some caveman-fu. What Mace doesn't realize is that someone, possibly Charles Manson, drew a funny symbol on his forehead the last time he fell asleep. Mace looks sort of like a middle aged Miles O'Keefe, and he has a fondness for those big bulky fur boots that obviously date him as the more primitive man to Illyan's cosmopolitan uptown look. Well, he may be primitive, but at least he doesn't get his ass kicked.

Meanwhile, in the secret lair of the sexy metal-head witch (as in her head is metal) who commands the werewolf guys, we find the witch nude and writhing all about. There's a lot of nudity in this film, even more so than in most sword and sandal films. The main witch woman, who I thought at first was named Okra, never puts a shirt on. This is fine with me, as it is historically accurate that in barbarian times, evil witches with metal heads and an army of werewolf men often did not wear tops. You can look it up in just about any history book, unless THE MAN has censored it. If you can't find the chapter I'm talking about, go up to your professor or your local bookstore clerk and demand the history book with the chapters dealing with nude barbarian witches.

Okran's writhing allows her to see a vision, which I guess is easier than piercing your nipples with bones, dangling buffalo skulls from them, and running through the desert before you collapse of pain and exhaustion and finally get to have your little vision quest. In the greater scheme of what people have to do to have their vision, writhing around in the mist while wearing nothing but a feather duster over your crotch is pretty easy.

In her vision, she sees a faceless man wielding a bow attempting to kill her. Predictably enough, she wakes from her vision and orders her monkeymen to find and kill this unidentified archer, which is probably what I would do in her place. At the same time, I empathize with any werewolf monkey man thing who gets the job of searching the entire realm for a guy with long hair.

We, of course, know it's Illyan, who is currently sleeping with Mace. You know, in a manly sort of way next to the campfire. The two become fast friends as they learn about each other. Illyan teaches Mace how to use the bow and arrow, and in return, Mace tells Illyan about how much he loves animals. If you think this is an unfair trade off of knowledge, keep in mind that Mace is a lot better in a fight than Illyan. So if he wants to talk about how much he loves animals, you have to listen. Plus, his name is Mace, and you would be advised to never screw with a guy named Mace.

Things really start to get confusing here. Mace and Illyan hang with the cavepeople, which allows Illyan to do a little breast grabbing on that cute woman he saw back at the beginning of the film. Mace falls asleep or gets stoned or something, and then the werewolf guys invade. Illyan gets his ass kicked, as usual, all the cave people get slaughtered, and Mace sleeps through the whole damn thing. Or maybe he was knocked out or something. Whatever the case, everyone is dead by the time he wakes up.

If you're beginning to get the idea that these two aren't exactly the greatest heroes in the land, you are right. Remember that up until this point, the only thing Illyan has actually bested in combat is a small snake. Mace seems tougher, but a lot of his ass kicking seems to depend on his enemies jumping really high up into the air so he can sort of guide them over his head and into a rock or something.

Well, Mace has to go save Illyan while Okran cooks her general as punishment for his failure. She summons up Zora, a guy in a metal bodysuit, who promises to rid her of Illyan. Mace and Illyan trek around a little, with Illyan constantly trying to get Mace in on fighting the evil Okran. Mace is either a Taoist or smart enough not to want to be saddled with a load like Illyan. He says he does not involve himself in such daring-do. He agrees to escort Illyan to the shore, since about the only thing Illyan is competent at is rowing around his boat. Unfortunately, they are attacked by magic arrows, one of which wounds Illyan.

While he rolls around breaking out in boils, Mace has to fight Zora and some other assorted demony type things. At this point, even a primitive like Mace has to be wondering why Illyan is the great hero if Mace is doing all the work. Illyan sort of reminds me of Ivanhoe, the medieval knight who got a whole book and mini-series named after him, but as far as I can remember, spent most of his time being wounded and sitting in a tent while everyone else had to fight and John Rhys-Davies bellowed "Saxon dogs!"

Mace gets a magic plant that cures Illyan, and it seems to also make Illyan smarter because he realizes what a complete failure he is as a crusading hero. He decides to pack up and paddle his sorry ass back to his own misty land, where they will no doubt be disappointed that he has returned to annoy them further. I'm pretty sure they picked him to go on the quest just so they could get rid of him, and I'm also pretty sure that they spent the interim period packing up the village and moving somewhere else so he would never find them. After all, you may remember they sent him on his way without actually having any particular quest in mind. They just wanted to get rid of him.

Illyan sails off into the mist, and Mace is immediately set upon by some pretty cool cobweb creatures who want information about Illyan. Mace can't tell them much other than the facts that he just ran for home with his tail tucked between his legs, and he pretty much sucked to begin with, but he sure knew how to bully a snake. They crucify Mace, mostly because it looks cool to strap a barbarian to a big wooden X on top of a cliff. But just when things seem lost, Illyan triumphantly returns! Boy, that must be a relief. His attempt to rescue Mace involves Mace accidentally being knocked off the cliff and into the ocean while still crucified. Hey, way to go, Illyan!

Luckily, and "luckily" has a lot to do with most of the things our heroes do in this film, Mace uses his special Aquaman powers to summon a school of dolphins. No, I swear. Since they all know he is an animal lover, the dolphins rally around Mace, free him from his binds, and make sure he gets ashore, at which time Illyan takes credit for the rescue.

Later that night, or possibly some other night, Mace and Illyan are asleep in a cave. Illyan is pulled down into a conveniently located pit of hell, and despite his shrieks of horror, Mace doesn't wake up. Or maybe he was awake anyway, and just hoping this would be the last he saw of Illyan. You know what they say. Waking up a man who is asleep is simple. Waking up a man who is pretending to be asleep is much more difficult. Is it coincidence that Mace has now slept through two battles, each one resulting in the capture of his tag-along, Illyan?

Eventually, Mace wakes his lazy ass up and realizes he must once again go save Illyan. The hell? Is this guy gonna get captured every time Mace tries to get a little shut-eye? At this point, the film throws us a wild curve ball as Illyan's head is ripped away from his body. I wasn't expecting that one. Mace discovers the corpse of his little buddy, cremates him, and in doing so, absorbs the power of the magic bow. Ahhh! See, he was the hero all along! Mace storms Okran's lair, and the sun must think Mace is at least a better savior than Illyan, because Mace gets the magic fiery sun bolts to shoot out of the bow, which is especially impressive since they're in a cave and there isn't any sunlight to be had.

Mace slaughters all before him, splitting open Okran's metal head to reveal her true face, a hideous ghoulie number. He then shoots her through the chest with a magic flaming sun arrow, causing her heart to explode. She transforms into a wolf and runs off into the wilderness along with that Zora guy, who also turned into a wolf at some point I can't remember.

If you're getting the impression that this is one weird-ass movie, then you are correct. The whole dolphin rescue thing was strange enough, but now we got this wolf thing going on. If Fulci's dream was to make movies that were hallucinogenic in nature, then he certainly succeeded in this warped little fantasy film. Constantly shrouded in mist, set on landscapes that are saturated with pink and orange and blue like some crazy messed up Yes album cover, Fulci creates a truly alien, phantasmagorical world. This would be a pretty boss heavy metal video, too.

It's an interesting juxtaposition to Conan the Barbarian, the movie that obviously inspired it. Despite a few things like a sexy witch and James Earl Jones turning into a snake, Conan created a more or less believable ancient world. There was nothing too terribly far-out to make us think that, with a few tweaks, this actually couldn't be a real ancient time. Conquest, on the other hand, is a complete fantasy realm full of purple glowing skies, cheap hairy monsters, cavemen, witches, magic, zombies, and lots of fog. It's serious van art territory.

I also like how the film subverts the expectations we have of a sword and sorcery film. There must be about a thousand films featuring a weenie young guy who becomes "the chosen one." He seems an unlikely choice, but during the course of the film's action, usually under the wing of a more experienced hero, the young lad becomes a man and, by the film's end, explodes into a whirlwind of heroic daring-do and bravery, thus saving the universe from some dark lord or other.

In this film, however, they set up the standard scenario, then quickly knock it down by killing the weenie guy and revealing that the bad-ass guy was the chosen one all along. It teaches us that you really should stop entrusting your fate to goofballs. It's an unexpected twist that caught me off guard, and that alone was reason enough for me to enjoy the film. Whether or not this subversion was intentional, or rather it's just the product of my pathetic attempt to justify my love of a rather stupid movie, is a decision you must make yourselves.

This film is generally regarded as the beast that killed Fulci's career, and indeed, his output starting with this film is spotty at best. He had a lot of problems during the making of this film that caused him to start burning a lot of bridges and isolating himself from the rest of Italy's film-making community. The guy was always difficult and temperamental, and having to make a silly sword and sorcery film only made matters worse.

Despite the many flaws, I like this film. It's definitely one of the best of the Italian Conan rip-offs, but being better than an Ator movie is not exactly impressive. The characters are mind-blowingly bland, a Fulci trademark. Mace is at least slightly interesting as the world-weary warrior and friend to all animals who has the role of savior forced upon him. Everyone else is pretty lame though. There's really no reason for Okran's evilness other than just being evil and naked. I mean, so your werewolves bully some cavemen. Big deal. It's not like their caves were nicer than yours. I mean, Okran's cave had cool disco lighting and a fog machine going. The cave people just had rocks and some fire.

Sabrina Siani, who plays the nude Okran, had a pretty eventful career in Italian sword and sorcery films during the 1980s, appearing in such genre treasures as Ator and 2020 Texas Gladiators. Andrea Occhipinti, who plays Illyan, also worked with Fulci in the mean-spirited and shockingly boring slasher film New York Ripper.

There are some slow moving parts, and the fights are not of the greatest quality since a lot of the attacking monsters have to set up their own stunts so Mace can throw them around. But for the most part, Fulci keeps things moving forward at a decent pace that is helped out by the sheer strangeness of everything we're watching.

If the monsters are cheap looking, it's hard to tell through all the fog and crazy colors, so as it is, I thought most of them were pretty cool, with the cobweb zombies being the coolest. And Okran is, of course, a naked woman with a golden head, so that's always cool. If ya gotta fight an arch-villain, it might as well be a naked woman instead of an old man or Rosie O'Donnell.

The soundtrack by Goblin member Claudio Simonetti is pretty annoying at times. It's about three notes on the synthesizer arranged in slightly different order from time to time. Generally, I expect better from Simonetti. While his work may often suck, it's at least original and complex. This sounds more like something Fabio Frizzi would have farted out. It gets a tad repetitive after a while, but I can live with that when the screen is filled with loin-cloth wearing barbarian men shooting glowing arrows at a naked woman and her army of werewolves in a magical realm of monsters and fog.

So while a lot of people hate this film, I tend to consider it one of the more creative, puzzling entries into the sword and sorcery genre. We expect gore and nudity from these films, but Fulci goes gleefully overboard, as one would expect. The warp factor is so much higher in this film than in other films of the genre, that I can't help but like it. In a sea of plodding carbon copy films involving muscular guys walking through the woods, it's good to run across something this freaked out, weird, and fun. Fulci fans may ignore it, and Fulci himself may feel that the thing ruined his career, but I actually find it one of his most enjoyable, original films, and it's also one of the best of the sword and sorcery crop.

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