The original “Conan the Barbarian” was the breakout role for a young Arnold Schwarzenegger, who fully embodied Robert E. Howard’s born-in-battle, muscle-bound warrior bent on revenge. It was a cheesy little movie in the best way, mindful of its pulp roots and the sword-and-sorcery matinees of yesteryear.
The reboot stars Jason Momoa in what is mainly an exercise in adolescent machismo with a healthy dose of misogyny. In other words, the new “Conan the Barbarian,” like the scaly beasts that its hero battles, is a dinosaur.
Conan is born into conflict, cut from the womb of his dying mother by his father, Corin (Ron Perlman). Director Marcus Nispel performs a nifty bit of narrative as his camera lands in the womb with Conan the Fetus, the muffled noise of battle all around. With the flash of a blade and a slash of daylight, Conan and we are tossed into the world amid bloody combat.
At his father’s side, Conan grows to resemble a professional wrestler, albeit one who has traded his stretchy pants for a red skirt. Witnessing the old man’s death at the cruel hand of Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang), Conan vows vengeance.
But Zym plans to kidnap Tamara (Rachel Nichols), the last pure-blood of the Sorcerers of Acheron. A spell requiring her blood mixed with a magic mask will make Zym a God, reigning hellfire for eternity unless Conan can stop him.
Although it’s rated R, “Conan the Barbarian” is best suited to boys under the age of 17 whose knowledge of females is limited to what they can find on the internet. Women in the movie are either heartless witches or fawning instruments of pleasure. Real men are steeped in blood and psychopathically cut off from their emotions or, as Conan succinctly puts it: “I live, I love, I slay, and I am content.” Oh, for simpler times.
But how sexy is Jason Momoa? I don’t know. Is torture sexy, as when he cuts off the nose of a bad guy and later sticks his finger deep into the wound to get his cooperation? Handsome and muscle-bound, Momoa moves like an athlete, but his acting chops are as limited as his charisma. (If you’re a fan of his work on the HBO hit “Game of Thrones,” you’ll be stunned at how unengaging he is as Conan.)
Lang makes an adequate, if clichéd, villain — he’s a far more versatile actor with greater range than his recent bad-guy roles in “Avatar” and “White Irish Drinkers” would lead you to believe. To intimidate the 6’4” Momoa, Lang ratchets up his performance, but in a world where brutality rules the day, he reads a little old and feeble.
Zym’s cruelty is certainly inventive (he traps and kills Conan’s father in a way that implicates his victim’s son) and his repertoire of magic includes raising indomitable, shape-shifting warriors from the earth.
