THE CONAN CHRONICLES: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Universal, 1982-84) Arrow Academy

Superfluous, perhaps, to suggest that if author, Robert E. Howard had not invented Conan – the barbarian, fitness zeitgeist, Arnold Schwarzenegger likely would have played him anyway. With his bulging desire to migrate from bodybuilding champion to bona fide movie star, neolithic brow and devilish mint for pure camp pumping out the hits as readily as the reps, Schwarzenegger’s rise as Hollywood’s irrefutable muscle man of the 1980’s was both assured and swiftly realized. Retrospectively, it all seems to fit. But important to note, there really was no template for this flexing phoenix to become anything better than B-grade beefcake. The only real contender prior to Schwarzenegger had been fifties’ Mr. Universe, Steve Reeves. But even Reeves, despite his handsomeness and virility, quickly devolved into a muscled-up he-hunk, fit only for C-grade actioners shot quick n’ dirty in Europe. Schwarzenegger’s trajectory at the movies would pitch his wares into the upper echelons of super-stardom. He really was the first bodybuilder to say, “I’ll be back,” and genuinely mean it - over and over, again. Throughout the 80’s other actors tried to mint their sizable girth into box office gold, most notably Sylvester Stallone, Jean-Claude VanDamme, Dolph Lundgren and Steven Segal. But in the end, it was Schwarzenegger who muscularized his movie-land popularity into a veritable cottage industry for buff wannabes, playing a desperate game of catch-up.      

As directed by John Milius, Conan the Barbarian (1982), at least retrospectively, can be viewed as either Schwarzenegger’s springboard or his most prominent footnote to date. Lest we remember, despite having marked his indelible charisma in George Butler’s documentary, Pumping Iron (1977), the spate of subsequent movie and TV guest appearances that followed it suggested little more to mine from the Austrian Oak’s public persona than mere adoration of his impeccably hand-hewn physique. So, hiring Schwarzenegger to play the titular barbarian of a pulp fiction potboiler was hardly guaranteed success. Milius, a veteran of the film industry was to co-author Conan the Barbarian with another rising star: Oliver Stone. By the time these two, set about to cinema-ize Robert E. Howard’s hulk in loin cloth, Conan had already been around for quite some time. First serialized in the mid-1930’s in the magazine, Weird Tales, the immediate recognition of this uber-macho archetype bode well with a male readership whose own masculinity was under siege from the Great Depression and looming crisis of another world war.

After the war, Conan’s readership declined. But in the mid-60’s, it was revived in novelized form by L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter, reintroduced with Frank Frazetta's visceral and sexually arousing cover art. Again, time passed. Bringing Conan into the 1980’s, Milius made the decision to alter the character’s original chemistry, away from a buff, brooding brainiac of undecided morality, yet abhorrent to slavery, to a more neolithic hulk, accepting of his fate until fate itself intervenes in unanticipated ways. Possibly, the attempt to create a less verbal Conan in the movies also had something to do with Milius’ concern Schwarzenegger’s thick Austrian accent would belie the character’s otherworldly persona. Even so, a movie version of Conan had been kicking around since the mid-1970’s with Schwarzenegger’s name already attached to the project. Then, it was the pipe dream of executive producer, Edward R. Pressman and associate producer, Edward Summer. The pair spent 2 years securing film rights only to discover no studio was interested in funding it. Then, in 1979, indie producer, Dino De Laurentiis came into view.  His daughter, Raffaella would eventually produce both Conan the Barbarian and its sequel, though not before Milius took hold of Oliver Stone’s original screenplay, infusing it with more elemental nods to Howard’s original tales and ample references to Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai (1954) and Kwaidan (1965).

Milius also chose to create a new edition to the Conan mythology: the domesticated Amazonian warrior, Valeria (played by Sandahl Bergman but whose character name is never actually spoken in the movie). Valeria derives her namesake from Howard’s story ‘Red Nails’, but owes her personality to Bêlit, the pirate/warrior in another Howard tale, ‘Queen of the Black Coast’. In every way, except – possibly, ‘upper body strength’, Valeria is Conan’s equal. Her ultimate sacrifice in death, and bizarre and fleeting resurrection thereafter, belongs to ancient Homeric heroism. Milius was to add the character of Subotai (Gerry Lopez) to this mix – creating a bro-mantic buddy/buddy camaraderie between Conan and his most loyal friend. Last, though hardly least, Milius reformulated Conan's arch nemesis, Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones), from two of Howard's fictional creations: the reoccurring villain, Kull of Atlantis and Thoth-Amon, a Stygian sorcerer, first to appear in ‘The Phoenix on the Sword’ and later to turn up in Conan the Destroyer (1984). Milius’ Doom is even further removed from the Conan legacy by his adherence to a ‘snake cult’ loosely based Milius’ research into the Hashishim and Thuggee cults.

Shooting in Almería and Madrid, on sets designed by Ron Cobb, further inspired by Dark Age cultures and Frazetta's paintings, Milius’ decision to steer clear from employing cheesy optical effects in favor of full-scale mechanical constructs leant an air of credibility to the fanciful nature of this piece, as did Schwarzenegger’s ability to perform his own stunts using a pair of swords costing roughly $10,000 each. Much was riding on Conan, though Universal, the company eventually to distribute the picture, had little faith it would succeed. The hyper-critical reception to Conan’s theatrical debut seemed to bear this out. Except that audiences ignored the negative press and flocked to see it. Having spent a cool $20 million to bring Conan the Barbarian to the big screen, Milius could breathe a sigh of relief when the picture’s opening weekend took in an impressive $9 million, going on to gross $79 million worldwide thereafter.

Plot wise: a young Conan (Jorge Sanz) is schooled by his blacksmith father (William Smith) on the importance of steel to their people - the Cimmerians. Shortly thereafter, all but a handful survive a bloody massacre at the hands of Thulsa Doom. The sword forged by Conan’s father is used by Doom to decapitate Conan’s mother (Nadiuska) and Conan, along with the rest of the children, are enslaved. Flash forward: Conan is trained as a gladiator. His victories in the arena earn him his freedom. Pursued by a pack of wild dogs, Conan stumbles into an Atlantean tomb, where he retrieves an ancient sword. Shortly thereafter, he befriends Subotai, a Hyrkanian thief and archer. On the advice of a prophetic witch (Cassandra Gava), Conan and Subotai arrive at the ancient city of Zamora to seek out Doom. They meet Valeria, a female brigand and together, pillage jewels and other valuables from a temple’s shrine. Conan and Valeria become lovers, though too soon, all are captured by King Osric (Max Von Sydow) who implores Conan to rescue his daughter, Princess Yasimina (Valérie Quennessen) from Doom’s cult. Motivated by revenge against Doom, Conan embarks upon this quest alone, disguised as a priest.

Alas, Doom is not so easily fooled. Conan is taken prisoner and tortured.  Doom orders Conan be crucified. Mercifully, the badly wounded barbarian is rescued by Subotai and taken to the wizard, Akiro (Mako) who restores his health. In Conan’s second encounter with Doom, Valeria is sacrificed and Conan calls upon Crom, a Cimmerian god, to grant him the power to avenge her death. Doom employs a subordinate, Rexor (Ben Davidson) to defeat Conan. But Valeria’s spirit is briefly resurrected as a Valkyrie, sparing Conan’s life yet again. Having lost his minions, Doom faces Conan alone. Conan kills Rexor with his father’s sword. But Doom has seemingly escaped. Pursued into a temple of worshipers, Doom attempts to stave off the inevitable. He is instead beheaded by Conan who rescues the princess, before laying waste to the temple in an inferno.  Princess Yasmina is restored to her father.

That Conan the Barbarian should have come to movie screens at all is a minor miracle. Lancer Books, the rights holders to Howard’s stories by 1966, went into receivership in 1973, resulting in protracted legal dispute over ownership. Producer, Edward Summer’s verve for the movie resulted in Edward R. Pressman’s push to reconcile the two principals involved in the lawsuit, Glenn Lord and de Camp. Together, they formed Conan Properties Inc. to handle licensing, affording Pressman access to Howard’s stories, though not before a staggering $100,000 was paid out in legal fees.  Milius’ participation would come much later, though he had briefly entertained joining the fledgling project in 1978. Pressman was also instrumental in hiring Oliver Stone as his ‘name screenwriter’, and also brought in Frank Frazetta as the movie’s visual consultant. However, Stone’s screenplay, written under the duress of his ‘then’ drug addiction, resulted in a 4-hour epic with a budget of $40 million – a price tag too titanic to secure.  Stone then turned to Jaws 2 director, Joe Alves, and later, Ridley Scott to direct Conan. Both turned him down. Meanwhile, set designer Ron Cobb reignited Milius’ interests by plying him with a copy of Stone’s script. Eventually, Pressman was successful at luring Dino De Laurentiis to partake. As De Laurentiis had a solid relationship with Universal, they agreed to fund the project up to $17.5 million, with an additional ad campaign of $12 million. While Pressman’s first choice to play the lead was always Arnold Schwarzenegger, briefly, Summer entertained casting Charles Bronson, Sylvester Stallone or William Smith in his stead. De Laurentiis believed Schwarzenegger’s formidable girth was a hindrance and ordered his leading man to slim down for the part.  Arnold complied, dropping thirty pounds under a stringent regiment that, in addition to lifting weights, included rope climbing, horseback riding, and swimming.

While audiences’ reaction to Conan the Barbarian was immediate, and palpably positive, critical reaction skewed toward ambivalence to outright condemnation. While some, like Chicago’s Roger Ebert hailed the picture as “perfect fantasy for the alienated preadolescent”, many felt the violent battle sequences veered far afield of the light-hearted corniness in Howard’s stories, with Milius' Nietzschean themes and ideology well out of place for the popcorn munchers. Regardless, Conan’s impressive opening weekend – it was #1 at the box office, earning $9,479,373 – convinced Universal a sequel was in order. And hence, Conan the Destroyer (1984) was born. Alas, much was done this time to rewrite history. Virtually none of the principals, save Schwarzenegger and Mako, survived the transition. This one was instead directed by Richard Fleischer from a screenplay by Stanley Mann, based on a story by Roy Thomas and Gerry Conway. This time, Conan and Malak (Tracey Walter) were to be confronted by Queen Taramis of Shadizar (Sarah Douglas). Impressed by Conan’s physical prowess, the Queen proposes a quest, in return for resurrecting Valeria – Conan’s lost love, from the netherworld.  But first, Conan must escort Princess Jehnna (Olivia d'Abo) to restore a jeweled horn to the dreaming god, Dagoth (André René Roussimoff – better known to the world of wrestling as Andre – the giant). Conan and Malak are accompanied by the Queen’s captain of the guard, Bombaata (Wilt Chamberlain) who, unbeknownst to all, has secret orders to murder Conan before the gem can be secured.

Conan is aided by his old friend, Akiro, the Wizard of the Mounds. However, the adventurers soon encounter Zula (Grace Jones), a formidable bandit being tortured by vengeful villagers. Liberating Zula, she pledges herself in service to Conan’s quest. Camping just beyond the castle of Thoth-Amon (Pat Roach), Jehnna is taken hostage by the shape-shifter. Eventually freeing Jehnna, Conan and his troop are assaulted by Taramis' guards. Driving them off, Conan suspects treason. But Bombaata feigns ignorance about the attack. Meanwhile, Jehnna expresses romantic interest in Conan, who remains steadfast in his devotion to the late Valeria. Alas, in discovering the precious gem, Akiro deciphers its engravings that prove Jehnna is to be ritually sacrificed to awaken Dagoth. Now, Bombaata reveals his truest intentions. Conan, however, employs his cunning and strength to kill Bombaata while Zula impales the Grand Vizier (Jeff Corey) intent on using Jehnna as his human sacrifice. Transformed into a behemoth, Dagoth kills Taramis, before setting to destroy Conan. But Zula and Malak join the fight against Dagoth and he is defeated. Newly coronated, Queen Jehnna knights Zula as the captain of her guard, Akiro, the queen's advisor, and, Malak as her court jester. Jehnna offers Conan herself in marriage. But he declines, departing to pursue another kingdom…for another story.

Despite the ruthlessness in its title, Conan the Destroyer is a fairly watered-down affair. Dino De Laurentiis’ decision to hire Richard Fleischer to direct results in a tepid, if flashier excursion into the fantastic realms of these ancient ‘neverlands’. While the R-rated Conan the Barbarian had earned an impressive $40 million in the U.S. and $50 million worldwide, its PG-rated successor barely earned back its production costs. Cinematographer, Jack Cardiff leant this sequel his usual sumptuous visual style, shot mostly in Mexico City. As before, composer, Basil Poledouris wrote the score, repurposing much from the first movie with only a few flourishes of originality to mark his return. Owing to its diminished box office, plans for yet another follow-up were immediately scrapped by Universal. In the interim, Arnold Schwarzenegger graduated from this sword and sandal sect to become a bona fide movie star, appearing in actioners and comedies that built upon his innate musculature, but miraculously, were never to become slavishly enshrined by it. Over the years, other Conan projects were proposed. But none materialized. And Schwarzenegger, having well passed his prime to partake in front of the camera, now would likely only return as a visual consultant, should any attempts to resurrect this franchise come to fruition.

Conan the Barbarian and Conan the Destroyer arrive in native 4K via Arrow Academy in a Conan Chronicles box set, each derived from refurbished elements scanned in at native 4K and graded in HDR10.  The results are very impressive. Color saturation is extraordinary. Both movies favor a warm orange/brown palette, perfectly preserved here. Contrast is uniformly excellent. Fine details pop as they should. You can see beaded sweat on Arnold’s pecs, if that’s your thing. Film grain looks exceptionally indigenous to its source. Black levels are deep, rich and velvety without ever losing fine detail in the darkest scenes. Truly, there is nothing to complain about here.  There are no less than 3 versions of Conan the Barbarian – the 127 min. theatrical cut, the 129 min. international cut and the 130 min. extended cut. All are presented in either original 2.0 DTS mono or newly remixed Dolby Atmos which really gives your surrounds a workout!

We get archival commentaries from John Milius and Arnold Schwarzenegger on the first movie, and from Richard Fleischer, Olivia d’Abo, Tracey Walter and Sarah Douglas on the sequel. To this, Arrow adds a new commentary on each film by noted historian, Paul M. Sammon. Also, for the asking, new interviews with production artist, William Stout, costume designer, John Bloomfield, special effects crew members, Colin Arthur and Ron Hone, actors Jorge Sanz and Jack Taylor, assistant editor, Peck Prior, visual effects animators, Peter Kuran and Katherine Kean, filmmaker, Robert Eggers and authors, John Walsh and Alfio Leotto. For the sequel, we get new interviews with Bloomfield and Walsh, casting director, Johanna Ray, art director, Kevin Phipps and stunt coordinator, Vic Armstrong.

Ported over from the old Universal DVD, the 2000 doc, Conan Unchained: The Making of Conan, plus archival interviews with sword master, Kiyoshi Yamasaki, writers Roy Thomas and Gerry Conway, composer, Poledouris. Various vignettes, including A Tribute to Basil Poledouris and concert footage, outtakes, trailers and image galleries round out our appreciation. Finally, Arrow has padded out the goodies with double-sided, fold-out posters for each movie, and collectors’ postcards and booklet. Bottom line: by far, Arrow’s Conan Chronicles represent the most comprehensive assemblage of footage and bling to anesthetize even the diehard fan. Utmost care has been paid to present each movie at optimal viewing quality. Very – very – highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

Conan the Barbarian 3.5

Conan the Destroyer 2

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

5+