Krull (1983), Peter Yates, B-

From the opening shot of an enormous space ship drifting through the inky blackness of the galaxy, it is clear why this sci-fi fantasy about a young man imbued with special powers and a special destiny and mentored by an aged master, who must overcome many obstacles to save a Princess from captivity, became an instant classic.

And no, I’m not talking about Star Wars, nor any of its sequels, prequels (although Liam Neeson is in it), or merchandising tie-ins. The film I’m talking about (in case you missed it in the graphic or at the beginning of the article) is, of course, Krull. In this, our special Star Wars edition, I thought that rather than rehashing George Lucas’s ancient series like everyone else is doing right now, I’d instead examine some of the flotsam and jet-powered hokum that washed up in the wake of the sci-fi fantasy renaissance perpetrated by Star Wars.

That’s when you found your Beastmasters, and Deathstalkers, and Dragonslayers, and Metalstorms . . . They were heady days, filled with sword-wielding heroes, cornball dialogue, and cheap-looking special effects. Pretty much like the original Star Wars, come to think of it. Krull is a fine enough example of the genre. In this story, which takes place on the planet Krull, Prince Colwyn’s marriage to one Princess Lyssa is interrupted by a fearsome army of Slayers (who are more or less just a dozen guys in funky helmets) who kidnap the princess and take her to this fortress that disappears and reappears at regular intervals (just like that town of legend . . . you know, Detroit) so she can marry some alien monster known as The Beast.

Prince Colwyn treks off to save her, a journey that involves a lot of riding around on inexpensive outdoor sets, saying lines like “Each to his fate,” and ” Power is fleeting, love is eternal,” and gathering the requisite band of helpers along the way. Oh yeah, although first, he has to climb a mountain to get a legendary weapon called the “Glave” which is ensconced in a vagina-like crevice and submerged in some amniotic goo. (Noting that the word “Glave” is an anagram for “gavel,” which is synonymous with “hammer” and therefore leads to words like “pound” and “nail,” makes it pretty clear that the perverts who made this picture had sex on the brain.) Why he needs this Glave isn’t really clear . . . it’s a magical weapon that looks like a Ninja throwing star crossed with an Aerobie, but he doesn’t use it for much more than a welding torch to get through the door behind which his beloved princess is locked. She’s been wearing the same dress for three days, but he kisses her anyway, which I guess is an indication of true love.

Of course I’m skipping a lot of stuff, like the blind seer who spends all his days kneeling in a room and can help the prince find the hidden fortress, and the old widow who spends all her days kneeling in a room and can help the prince find the hidden fortress. It’s a film that knows how to milk a motif.

So what exactly makes this a guy film, besides the fact that if you have a couple of guy friends over and get 3 or 4 six packs, a few pepperoni pizzas, and maybe a Vienetta for dessert, you’ll have a ball watching this goofy movie? Well, there’s a lot of male bonding, for one thing. On the way to finding the fortress where his princess is held captive, the prince hooks up with a gang of bandits played by such luminaries as Liam Neeson, Robbie Coltrane, and one of the ignoble betrayers of William Wallace from Braveheart. These guys bond so well that when the prince spots the blood of one of his missing comrades on a stone floor, he is immediately able to identify it by sight: “That’s Ergo!” he says. Must have been the red that tipped him off.

There’s also a little bit of masculine emotion on display. Liam Neeson dies very macho, with a wistful “My traveling days are over, my friend.” Don’t feel too bad for him–he’s the only character in the film who gets laid. The princess that all the hubbub is about could use to be a little more buxom, though, I suppose. With her puffy cheeks, she kind of reminded me of a Wellesley-era Hillary Rodham, which I couldn’t decide whether or not was a turn-on. Thankfully, because the prince and princess are kept apart for so long, there’s a minimum of mushy stuff in the movie, although when they finally are reunited, the prince suddenly gets the power to shoot some sort of True Love fireballs out of the palms of his hands. Don’t ask, because I couldn’t tell you.