Movie Review: Krull

3/10A

Ah, childhood. There are great things about it and you tend to forget the rubbish. Take, for example, The Neverending Story. That was pigeon poop and luckily I have forgotten it entirely except for his horse dying, probably because it was sad that the best actor was no longer in it.

Sad moments aplenty occur when you rewatch something you always used to love, like Thundercats, which looks utterly atrocious now, though the Dungeons & Dragons series has held up better.

So what of my childhood memories of Krull? Well, I never thought it was a classic in the first place. I can tell you with little surprise or regret that I was pretty much right on the money.

It's not all bad really. It suffers, and at the time suffered even worse, from comparison to the contemporary "epic to beat" and since that was Star Wars it didn't really stand a marshmallow in hell's chance. There are many parallels between this and the first Star Wars - an attempt at grand epic visions, excellent scenery, creepy villains, and a blink-and-you'll-miss-his-career leading man in Ken Marshall (DS9 fans would have a hard time recognising the balding older version)

There's plenty to enjoy - the Glaive, a sort of twisty throwing star thing, is definitely one of cinema's coolest hero gadgets, even more so when you can control it with your mind. There's a fine turn from Bernard Bresslaw as a doomed cyclops, several really neat ideas (the widow of the web - awesome) and one particular moment with a character being replaced with a doppelganger so creepy it stayed with me for years.

You can also have a fun(ish) time spotting all the not yet stars in the crooked gang including that kid from Grange Hill, Alun Armstrong, Liam Neeson (!) and a dubbed Robbie Coltrane (voice by Michael Elphick, fact-fans!).

Dubbing can of course be awful and this case is no exception. Take the female lead, Lysette Anthony (waddya mean, "who?") - she was dubbed by an unknown American actress putting on an English accent. What's up with that? Unless there was some serious casting couch action going on with the voice casting folks I can't think of a sensible reason to do so. It merely makes a fairly poor performance a truly awful one.

Oh and my my there is a lot more about this film that's bad, though in a cheap and cheerful way. The fight scenes conjures up nothing so much as a pillow fight in a posh young ladies finishing school - as the poor extras playing the bad guys, who clearly can't see out of their future-s&m garb wave their gun/swords around and generally look lost. They shouldn't be concerned since the good guys can't really fight either - a whole castle full of guards wearing what appear to be motorcycle helmets gets wiped out in minutes and our hero just wimps around a lot, though he does find the time to indulge in the ultimate swordfight cliché - the swing from the chandelier! Yes!

Now... he's met by his mentor, Obi... oh I forget his name - anyway, he goes and gets the glaive after doing some very impressive (and I think real) rock climbing in what is admittedly a beautiful landscape. Wherever the movie was shot is truly gorgeous, we get our shabby, undertalented cast riding through some amazing and occasionally heart stopping sets and vistas. In fact, you're often left cursing the plot because it keeps getting in the way.

Next we meet our bunch of ex bbc cronies and head off to the evil castle to fight for our princess' return - you know the sort of thing. The final monster (imaginatively called "the beast") is one with such a lame outfit they have to shoot him thorugh a vaseline'd lens to try and hide the fact you've seen more impressive Boglins (remember them?)

And this is pretty much it. It sticks so closely to the old story formulas we grew up with that nothing, no self-sacrifice and certainly no fight surprises us with its outcome. This is the film's great crime - if it is going to be as hackneyed as this it needs that spark, that zing - something new to put in the pot. It needs a Han Solo in fact. Without any innovation or excitement on offer, this two hour sword and sorcery romp never gets out of second gear.

Oh, in fact one thing did surprise me. Towards the end, our hero finds a trail of blood. He looks at it for a moment and then identifies who left it. Wow - he really is a hero.

Ot's this sort of manic denial of the laws of nature and cohesive plotting that gain this lame duck a special blue "A". I had a good time watching it, but not really for the reasons the makers intended. They must be so proud.

In short then; oh dear.

Oh well, til next time.

A