Conan the Barbarian
One summer day when I was twelve years old, I was bored. So, I decided to put in a rated R videocassette while my parents were at work. What I saw amazed me utterly. But I was not enamored by the blood, guts, gore, and nudity. What struck me was this great story of a kid whose family was slaughtered by an evil demagogue and his quest to avenge them. But what struck me even more was that this story was told largely through music—perfect, divine music. For example, after the opening speech by Conan’s father to his son, there is close to fifteen minutes of film time in which there is absolutely no dialogue. None. Normally, this would be the kiss of death for any film but Conan the Barbarian managed to tell its story as much through the film music as the characters.
That Conan the Barbarian is the best film ever made is almost inconsequential to me because I know full well that most people laugh at such a notion. They see a film of gratuitous nudity, senseless violence, gore and more than one disemboweling, and a giant mechanical snake so silly looking that you think it was taken from the 1950s in terms of special effects. But not me. The fight scenes, the sex scenes: not interesting to me. What I love about this film are the ‘soft’ scenes that rely on atmosphere and setting, cinematography and sound to get at something much deeper in the human condition. How we define ourselves, what we believe in, when do we act: all of these are addressed in a primal way in this film.
And Conan the Destroyer absolutely sucks.