Review underneath the cut
This was an odd duck of a movie. Much like a natural disaster commands the attention of all who witness it, this movie is, in spite of it’s many faults, somehow engrossing.
Atmospheric, but poorly edited.
Processed, but creative.
Hammy, but grounded.
Emotional, but distant.
Predictable, but shocking.
Conan the Barbarian is probably too weird and graphic for half of it’s intended audience after an admittedly creative but still lazy-sounding opening narrated by Morgan Freeman (who sounds less than excited, in my opinion only) is followed by a prenatal image of an infant and it’s birth on the battlefield, midwifed by none other than Hellboy himself, Ron Perlman, at his hairiest.
Speaking of things that are a little too hairy to be handled, this sort of shell-shock in tone is seen on and off again throughout the movie. A sea battle at the crack of dawn seemingly changes to midday within the span of a minute would be the biggest example I can think of. The second is the fact that Morgan Freeman’s narration abandons us after the first act. Wouldn’t keeping your star power be more bang for your buck?
But let’s say you were the half of the audience that decided to stick it out through the blood and weirdness. Why are they staying, people ask me. Well, I’d say that they were enjoying the movie for it’s Conan-ness.
I’ve never read the source material by Robert E. Howard or seen the original movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger, but I know the basic premise of a savage warrior in an ancient world of sword and sorcery going on adventures.
And the movie delivers in terms of both sword and sorcery. The fights are stylized only through blood spurts and an aerial move or two.
The world (though ugly to behold) looks different than any fantasy realm you could name off the top of your head. The sets are creative and the costumes are well done, even if many of them look ratty.
Tyler Bates does an admirable job of making the score, eschewing the usual brassy hero schlock for throat singing, tribal drums, ancient flutes, and moody strings.
But while I do admire that the film chose a tougher path of an R rating, in an industry seeped with PG-13, some of the scenes are just grotesque, as in “We have to witness a man wet himself while being tortured” grotesque.
Jason Mamoa is suitably fierce in the titular role, but doesn’t really get to flex more than his muscles as the character of Conan.
Nonso Anozie is likable as Conan’s ally, Artus, but doesn’t get nearly the screentime he should.
The same could be said for Said Taghmaoui, who plays a thief that owes Conan a life debt, but their relationship doesn’t get much deeper than that.
I will say that Rachel Nichols is more than just a run-of-the-mill damsel in distresss in this film. During a horse-drawn escape in the film, just when you’re thinking “she should probably get rid of the trailer” she pulls the pin and leaves the carriage behind to make a faster getaway. But later, during that morning to noon ship battle I mentioned earlier, she seems a bit at a loss at what to do.
Stephen Lang is suitable as the main villain, erstwhile in performance and motivation, but nothing terribly groundbreaking.
And the less opinions I give about the villain’s daughter the better.
Overall, this movie feels unfinished, like the people making it couldn’t decide what to do in certain parts and just decided to freestyle it, leaving a coarse movie in it’s wake.
Conan the Barbarian is like playing in the mud. You’ll have a hell of a time, but you might need a shower afterwards.
