Conan the Barbarian | icareviews

Rush Hour franchise director, Zionist zealot, member of the Board of Trustees of the Simon Wiesenthal Center and Museum of Tolerance, and “lecherous lothario” Brett Ratner strikes again with a pedestrian sword-and-CGI epic in Hercules, starring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson in the title role. Johnson’s part-negroid Polynesian features might seem at first glance to be an odd choice for the hero of Greek antiquity; but if any actor today has the combined physique and charisma to play Hercules, it is probably “The Rock”. The script and execution, unfortunately, are unconvincing, and opt for mindless, underachieving spectacle and bloodshed rather than the elemental masculine archetype creation of, for instance, Conan the Barbarian (1982). As for ancient neoconservative bloodbaths, 300 (2006) is a more entertaining example of this subgenre.

3.5 stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that Hercules is:

9. Pro-family. “I only want to be a husband and a father.”

8. Pro-drug. Amphiaraus (Ian McShane) makes use of psychedelic “herbs” for oracular purposes.

7. Talmudic, attempting to milk inappropriate cutesy humor from a young boy’s naïve use of the word “bondage”.

6. Pro-immigration, drumming up sympathy for the plight of “refugees”.

5. Feminist, promoting women in the military in the person of accomplished archer Atalanta (Ingrid Bolso Berdal).

4. Neoconservative. An enemy army of brainwashed savages wields crescent-shaped weapons that may be intended as an allusion to Islam.

3. Anti-white. The blond King Eurystheus (Joseph Fiennes) betrays Hercules. His throne appears to be decorated with a Greek meander motif like that used by Golden Dawn.

2. Pro-war. Despite revealing war to be motivated by mendacious behind-the-scenes machinations, Hercules delights in nothing more than the sight of barbarians mutilating each other like cattle. The hero even travels with his own personal propagandist, Iolaus (Reece Ritchie), who, like America’s Psywar Division during World War 2, spins glorious falsehoods in celebration of his mass-murdering master. “Are you only the legend, or are you the truth behind the legend?” asks Amphiaraus. A tension is maintained throughout the film as to where the truth begins and the propaganda ends. Ultimately, of course, Hercules demonstrates that he is the vaunted figure of myth. Tydeus (Aksel Hennie) represents the perfect soldier: a feral, unthinkingly loyal brute and killing machine.

1. Jewish supremacist. Hercules is the Jews as they like to imagine themselves, Zionist power symbolically flexing its muscles for the camera to entertain and indoctrinate the gullible goyim. The bastard son of Zeus, he wields power inherited from the Divine and so can be said to be one of the Chosen. Among his labors and feats of chutzpah is the slaughter of a mighty lion – Britain – whose pelt he wears as a trophy signifying the Rothschild imperium’s subversion of the British Empire. Haunted by Bergen-Belsen-ish visions of piled corpses, Hercules is also the subject of a blood libel and is accused as a “child killer”. Just as Jews have succeeded in blaming the Nazis for their own crimes, however, Hercules pins the blame on evil wolves for the child murders in question. In other reversals of tradition, Jewish Hercules is said to have slain rather than established a hydra, and is actually shown saving a prophet from being pierced by a spear rather than being the traitorous cause of this torture. Finally, Hercules pulls a Samson, bringing a temple down on the heads of his enemies.

Point Break (1991) ***** Point Break was this reviewer’s second Kathryn Bigelow movie after the underappreciated 1987 vampire horror Near Dark. Like that film, this one is a consistently inventive take on a standard genre, in this case action of the undercover and heist/caper varieties, that goes for a style-heavy approach that in no way detracts from the substance.

The cinematography, and particularly the overcranked (i.e., slow motion) work, is elegant and appropriate to the beauty the characters find in their various philosophically informed adrenaline rushes and passions of choice. The opening credits appear over intercut images of surfing and target practice – married pictures of recreation and violence – that capture the fun but dangerous tone and thematic concerns of the story as a whole. At times Point Break feels like an L.A.-flavored super-episode of Miami Vice, with its undercover operation, sun, and political cynicism – conveyed most creatively in its vision of American presidents as bank robbers, which underscores Point Break‘s constant relativistic tension.

Johnny Utah is an interesting part for Keanu Reeves, a transitional role bridging his 80s dude persona, as exemplified by Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and Parenthood, with his later, more serious (but less noteworthy) turns in films like Speed and The Matrix. Reeves even does a little undercover work on the beach in Spicoli mode, acknowledging where he has been as an actor in the midst of cutting his teeth as a leading man of masculine weight.

Swayze is surprisingly scary and darkly charismatic here, and may prompt some viewers to wish he had essayed more antagonistic parts in his unfortunately short career. Busey is entertaining as always, as is Vincent Klyn (Cyborg‘s Fender) in his supporting gig as hardcore surfer hooligan Warchild.

This reviewer is tempted to place Point Break in the highest tier of 80s/early 90s action films. Point Break falls short of being a Conan the Barbarian, a First Blood, or a Running Man, but it is on a level with Red Heat or Shakedown and better than Rambo, Cobra, or Death Wish 2. The absence of a Stallone or Norris in no way handicaps Point Break, an action-adventure-drama with a sensibility all its own. 5 stars, easy.