Entry 51: Deathstalker (1983)

Deathstalker (1983)

Dir: James Sbardellati

"The might of the sword...the evil of the sorcerer..."


I'm publishing this one out-of-order; entry 50.5 is still coming, but I haven't been "in the mood" to get to it and I've grown sick of not posting. 

Tonight, the Basement of Sleaze is transformed into the Dungeon of Sleaze as I take a trip back to a time before history, a land of might, magic, abs and cup-sizes undreamed of!  Journey with me now to the mystical realm of the...Deathstalker!

After a slo-mo opening credits sequence in which we're repeatedly forced to watch Deathstalker (Richard Hill) nearly bear his junk while jumping over a cliff with no context whatsoever, the movie cold-opens on a medieval babe about to be raped by a foppish-looking sort wearing a gilded loincloth and headband.  Said non-consentual carnal act is interrupted by a group of boil-covered warriors who make off with the damsel in distress.  They're intercepted by our bicep-and-ab-bedecked hero, who kills the living fuck out of both the plague-ridden thus and the would-be rapist, quipping half-assedly all the while ("This just isn't your day, is it?").  Later, Deathstalker meets a deposed king who begs him to rescue his daughter from the clutches of the evil sorcerer, Munkar (Bernard Erhard, the voice of Cy-Kill from Challenge of the Go-Bots for my fellow 80s kids).  Deathstalker gives precisely zero fucks about saving anybody, but, when he meets an old crone who informs him that he can become a king by "reuniting the three powers," which involves stealing Munkar's amulet, he decides to take up the task.  On the road to confront Munkar, he meets up with, and performs some serious barbarian lovemaking on, warrior-queen Kaira (the late Lana Clarkson, who was murdered by Phil Spector in 2003; I'm not a Beatles fan, but will forever appreciate Spector for producing The Ramones End of the Century...That said; fuck the murdering piece of shit.).  Deathstalker and Kaira manage to infiltrate Munkar's palace but, in the movie's most sanity-doubting moment, Munkar magically sex-changes one of his goons into the form of the princess (he moans and grasps for his missing dick several times during the process) and he/she seduces our hero, but is dispatched by Kaira in a topless brawl that also claims her life.  Deathstalker manages to worm his way into a tournament of warriors sponsored by Munkar, where we see a dude get his brains splattered out by a hammer and our hero is forced to do battle with a mutant pig-man.  After surviving the contest, Deathstalker FUCKING WALKS THROUGH FIRE to cast down Munkar, who is graphically drawn-and-quartered by his subjects.

My relationship with Deathstalker began when I first saw its fantastic, Frazetta-inspired VHS cover art at a rental store attached to a small-town gas station on the way to my grandparents' cabin in the late 80's.  I didn't end up seeing the film for several more years and, if it didn't live up to the promise of that painting, it was still entertaining as fuck.  Corman's New World Pictures churned out several low-rent, Conan-inspired sword and sorcery flicks in the early 80's, but this is the most notable.  Former college football star Hill and Ex-Playmate of the Year Benton look good, but never even attempt to disguise their American accents.  That doesn't really matter, though, as director Sbardellati keeps the pace brisk and brings the film to a close at an economical 81 minutes.  As a bonus, he packs in enough boobs, blood, torture and swordplay to please all but the most jaded of genre fans.  Best of all, this comes closer to capturing the tone and feel of Robert E. Howard's original Conan stories than any of the official Conan films have.  See it!