Despite its cult leanings that probably stemmed from a generation of youngsters being enthralled by the acres of exposed flesh on display, the original Deathstalker left me colder than Mr Freeze’s thermostat. Maybe I was too old when I first saw it, but the mixture of cheap fantasy and endless ravishings of women felt more sleazy and creepy rather than stirring any excitement for high adventure and fantastical realms.
With this in mind, I approached the sequel with the kind of dread I usually reserve for a shaky handed root canal or a proctology examination with a doctor who doesn’t clip his nails, but when I saw Jim Wynorski’s name pop up on the director’s credit, my clenched sphincter relaxed accordingly.
Now, this isn’t to say that Wynorski is a massive talented filmmaker who sadly happened to find himself stuck in low budget purgatory, because he isn’t – but the man who gave us Return Of Swamp Thing, Chopping Mall and Sorority House Massacre II knows his way around goofy cinematic trash like few others.
We rejoin Deathstalker looking a little different that we remember, but aside from a different face, less muscles, new hair and an entirely changed personality, hes still the same old sword twirling adventurer we all know and love. While you all bathe in my sarcasm, the warrior thief manages to wriggle out of yet another scrape only to run into the buxom form of Reena the Seer, a doe-eyed damsel with a complicated secret.
To skip a little ahead in the story, Reena is actually Princess Evie of the kingdom of Jzafir who resently lost her throne thanks to the devious machinations of the impossibly camp sorcerer, Jerak, who has used dark magic to create and evil clone of her who rules in her stead.
I’d like to say that Deathstalker agrees to help through an inner sense of justice and right, but on the other hand, the notorious womanizer also notices that Renna/Evie has banging bod, as so agrees to lead her on a quest that sees them tangle with dwarven bounty hunters with exploding arrows, a random swarm of zombies and an all-female tribe who want to put Deathstalker on trial for his crimes against womanhood (now there’s an open and shut case of ever I heard one!).
If all this isn’t enough, there’s also the vengeful Sultana, who is gunning for our heroes hide and who has struck up an alliance with Jerak and not even death with slow her down. With a showdown on the cards, Deathstalker and Reena smuggle themselves into the castle, but can the legendary swordsman defeat his enemy in a duel to the death – and tougher yet, can he resist the lusty attentions of Reena’s sultry clone? Pfffft, the man has the sex drive of a damn Kennedy, what do you think?
A busty, scantily dressed, warrior cougar, incensed that our swashbuckling hero has made her look the fool, strides up to the camera and announces in a determined tone: “I’ll have my revenge, and Deathstalker too.” – at that point, just as she says the words “Deathstalker too”, the legend Deathstalker II appears on a title card at exactly the same time. If this brazen act in self aware fuckery is far too goofy for you to stomach, then you best do yourself a favour and give Deathstalker II a wide berth. However, much to my surprise, I actually found it fairly charming and a refreshing change from the wildly misogynistic original that tried to be a poor man’s Conan The Barbarian only with way more sexual assault.
I mean, it was the 80s and a Roger Corman production to boot, so that voraciously horny aspect is still very present and correct (don’t worry fellas, Uncle Roger’s got you covered when it comes to bouncing boobs that have nothing to do with the plot), but this time it feels far more playful and almost quaint as the actors deliver deliberately outrageous lines with their tongues stuck solidly in their cheeks. Wynorski knows exactly what he’s doing here and targets the humour somewhere between and out and out spoof and a panto with extra nudity.
It sure ain’t subtle, but it is fun in a self deprecating way as Deathstalker, now played by a perma-smirking John Terlesky, has become a vain, preening scoundrel who us constantly obsessed with his hair. “Ordinarily, I dont mind seeing a woman get a good beating if she deserves it.” he smugly declares after saving Reena’s bacon from the first of many attempts on her life and later he further cements his prick status by describing his outlook on life as “I rob from the rich, and pretty much keep it for myself.”.
However, the movie also doesn’t pass up the opportunity to show the jackass up every chance it gets and when he isn’t being brutalised by a giant, female wrestler named Queen Kong, he’s backed up by the ludicrously adorable form of Monique Gabrielle in not one, but two roles. While her tackling of dual roles is hardly up to the caliber of, say, Jeremy Irons in Dead Ringers, she manages separate the two easy enough with Reena being cute as a button (and somewhat annoying) and her clone being a soul swallowing vamp with the sexual drive of a rutting bunny.
The production values are as threadbare as you’d expect from a Wynorski/Corman production (its painfully obvious that Reena’s crystal ball is nothing more than a fucking door knob) and yet this only adds to the charm even more. The swords are bendy and the fight scenes look like they were first rehearsed about three minutes before filming, but Wynorski wins you over by wearing his low budget heart on his sleeve and simply plays up to the crapness to an excessive (and enjoyable) amount. If the rumours are true and there truly is going to be a low budget reboot of the franchise with Psycho Goreman’s Steven Kostanski’s at the helm, then adopting Deathstalker II’s habit of endlessly winking at the camera seems to be the best way to go.
While a long way away from being a conventionally “good” movie, Deathstalker’s second coming proves to something of a crappy, self aware treasure whose excruciating dad jokes and an ear worm of a main theme more than makes up for it’s more obvious flaws. Christ, it even has a blooper reel running over the end credits like some sort of version of Cannonball Run, but with loin cloths and pig men in it instead – how much more of a cheesy badge of honor do you need?
A vast improvement over its predecessor; this is a willfully silly movie that walks the walk and stalks the stalk.
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