Posted: 02/09/2011

Masters of the Universe Review

by Robert Baum

Review: Masters of the Universe (1987)

Stoic Swede Dolph Lundgren, Sylvester Stallone’s Soviet anabolic-augemented adversary Ivan Drago from Rocky IV (1985), faces the forces of evil on a distant world as the hero of Cannon’s recent endeavor. Lundgren essays the protagonist of He-Man in the first effort of schlock-purveying producers Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus to be based on a Mattel toy line. Is there a Ken and Barbie film in the works?
Masters of the Universe begins in the barren fantasyland of Eternia where the bad guys have overtaken the citadel of Castle Grayskull. He-Man and allies Man-At-Arms (John Cypher of “Hill Street Blues”) and spunky, spandex-clad battle siren Teela (Chelsea Field) along with a hairy gnome named Gwildor (Billy Barty, last seen on the big screen as one of Tim Curry’s henchgoblins in Ridley Scott’s Legend and in Cannon’s recent attempt at family-freindly fare as Rumplestiltskin) gain access to the besieged fortress via a key that can open a door to just about anyplace.
It turns out that the evil forces led by Skeletor (Frank Langella) have procured one of the keys Gwildor crafted. Unfortunately for our heroes, the key posessed by the bad guys lets them know where the good guys are when they use their key. Finding themselves pinned down by Skeletor’s sinister subordinates, He-Man and friends use their key to escape.
The quartet wind up on present-day earth. They find themselves in a world unlike Eternia. They make friends with a couple of movie type teenagers (i.e. the guy is good-looking and the girl is cute) who have had close encounters with Skeletor’s malevolent operatives. Skeletor’s do-badders are quite a nightmarish trio. They capture the boyfriend and the girlfriend barely manages to escape.
Masters of the Universe is obviously geared for a pre-teenage audience though it seems a bit intense for them. Producers Golan and Globus no doubt are attempting to offer the violence rife in their R-rated low-budget bonanzas in a PG-rated fantasy. The bad guys are way more fright-inducing than their small plastic counterparts.
The effects are pretty good and are about the only somewhat worthwhile thing onscreen. The characters are ripped oy of many a fantasy adventure: He-Man is just another version of Hercules—whom Lou Ferrigno portrayed in a Cannon effort a few years ago; and we’ve seen the likes of Gwildor in Tolkein and Grimm tales, along with the Jim Henson film The Dark Crystal (which was scripted by Masters of the Universe screenwriter David Odell) and the forementioned Legend.
One of the curious of items is to be found in the closing credits: an acting coach for star Lundgren. Is this supposed to be a joke? Well maybe he needed help to show how rather limited he is as a leading man. Here he makes his work in Rocky IV almost worthy of an Oscar nomination. Cannon is obviously feeling that Arnold Schwarzenegger is too costly these days, especially since having spent well over $20,000,000 to secure the services of Stallone for a pair of pictures (last year’s hisser Cobra and earlier this year with the box office underperformer Over the Top) to have their own rock-solid movie star; their stable of stars like Chuck Norris and Charles Bronson aren’t getting any younger.
Masters of the Universe is the second of two family-friendly actioners from Cannon—the first one having been Christopher Reeve’s return to the role of Superman—albeit with a larger marketing campaign than for their forays into fairy tales. Like Reeve, Lundgren is now all but trapped playing a fantasy hero. He is, however, far more limited than Reeve and can’t seem to do much except for perhaps displaying his martial arts prowess (he is a European kickboxing champ) and flaunt his mighty physique. Though such was once often said of a certain Austrian-born Atlas before he portrayed a cybernetic killer in The Terminator (1984) similar words are often said of Stallone in his recent turns as Rocky and Rambo. Still, playing the hero isn’t easy, especially in one’s introductory onscreen efforts and any film role should come with a SAG warning that taking such a role might potentially typecast you whether your talent is is infinite or nonexistent.

Robert Baum is Currently a Bryn Mawr, PA-based film afficanado and pop culture junkie.

Got a problem? E-mail us at filmmonthly@gmail.com