Conan The Destroyer (1984)

Director: Richard Fleischer

Cast: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Grace Jones, Wilt Chamberlain, Mako

Have I Seen It Before?: With so many series released slightly before my time, I feel as if I saw both of the Schwarzenegger-led Conan films in some kind of congealed blob on cable. I’m reasonably sure that I never say down with the specific intention of watching the movie, though.

Did I like it?: As I was watching Conan the Barbarian (1982), my wife found the notion that I was enjoying the film somewhat perplexing. I’ve never been a fan of fantasy in general. I’ve fallen asleep through most films based on the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, and I’d rather do almost anything than spend any time with C.S. Lewis. But there was something about the original film that works. It’s the singular nature of the character, and his ability to embody the spirit of the filmmaker in question while mostly avoiding sermonizing on the topic of its ideals.

Then they had to go and fuck it all up with a sequel. The first mistake was likely to drain all of the violence out of the picture, in an effort to somehow amplify the box office. It didn’t work, and we are left with a far less remarkable film. One might give it the excuse of being released mere weeks before PG-13 gave films some sort of middle ground between PG and R, but it does not change the fact that we are stuck with a toothless film.

It doesn’t make up for the loss in visceral action by making Conan more of hero, either. He is a bland cypher, content to swing his sword around and hint at the future where he will wear a crown upon a troubled brow. This film might have even benefited from being less subtle about its ideas, if they were truly intending the film to be for children, but those notions are gone for one of the blandest action fantasy films of the 1980s, and that is saying something. The original aims for ideals and ideas, and it’s reasonable to debate whether or not it hit those targets. This film aims for nothing, and somehow misses.

A View To A Kill (1985)

Director: John Glen

Cast: Roger Moore, Christopher Walken, Tanya Roberts, Grace Jones

Have I Seen it Before: It’s Bond. It’s a lock. I’ve even sat through the shitty ones.

Did I Like It: It may be the only Roger Moore I can say I actually like.

The text of this review appeared previously in a blog post entitled “How Could No One Else Like These Movies?” published 04/23/2017.

Roger Moore is my least favorite Bond. Yes, that includes the dour Timothy Dalton, the dim-eyed Australian George Lazenby, Peter Sellers, and… ahem… Woody Allen. That being said, not all of his movies are that bad. In fact, I’d be willing to say of his seven times at the end of the gun-barrel sequence, I actually like as many as two of them.

This—Moore’s final outing in the role—ranks dead last of the series on Rotten Tomatoes*, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. Everyone knows that Roger Moore actually went into outer space in one of his movies, right?

Beyond obvious better candidates for worse Bond movies, A View to a Kill has a lot going for it. The theme song, from film composer John Barry and British group Duran Duran is a pure New Wave confection. The action sequences, culminating in a shoot-out at the Golden Gate Bridge is fantastic, and lest we forget: CHRISTOPHER WALKEN IS A BOND VILLAIN. Has there ever been an archetype that an actor was more destined to play than Walken playing one of the heavies in this film?

Critics point to Moore’s advancing age (57 at the time of filming) as contributing to the film’s underlying incredulity. For me, though, Roger Moore always brought a certain older quality to the role. Even in Live and Let Die (1973), he seemed stiffer, more mature than any of his brethren did in their initial movies. Besides, I think an increasingly geriatric Bond is an interesting idea, although I will admit both that I may be alone in this thinking, and that the movie—and the series, for that matter—never bothers to acknowledge that Bond might age.

But, come on! The man went into space in one of his movies! Why? Reasons, that’s why. As long as Moonraker (1979) exists, I can’t accept that this movie is the franchise’s nadir.

*Not including the strange-but-watchable off-brand Never Say Never Again (1983), or the afore-alluded-to comedy version of a multi-car pile up that was Casino Royale (1967).