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| When it comes to Hollywood's science fiction
family, fantasy is the neglected stepchild. Since Sinbad stopped battling
Ray Harryausen's skeleton armies in the late '60s, there have been only
a handful of quality sword-and-sorcery epics (Excalibur foremost among
them). The 13th Warrior looked like it was going to end this fantasy drought,
or, at least it did back in early 1998, when it was called Eaters of the
Dead and its ominous trailer, showing Vikings battling an army of undead
demons, appeared briefly in theaters. Alas, like most legends, this one
was too good to be true. After one title change, 18 months of delays,
and countless rumors of studio-director infighting, The 13th Warrior is
finally upon us. "And what say ye, seer of cinema? Doth it suck?" Not
really. Director John McTiernan's saga is far from a Conqueror-level debacle;
it's merely a so-so adventure epic, a substandard Braveheart whose impressive
production values are hampered by an often-leaden storyline. In Warrior's awkward introduction, we meet cocky Arab nobleman Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan (Antonio Banderas) and learn he's been kicked out of Baghdad for looking up the wrong concubine's veil. Now ambassador to the "Barbarian Lands to the North," the effete Ahmed bumps into a band of gruff-but-friendly Vikings on the Volga. No sooner have they set up camp than a message arrives from the Norsemen's homeland: an ancient, unspeakable evil is attacking and 13 warriors must return to help fight. Thing is, the local soothsayer decrees only 12 of the warriors can be "North Men" — guess who's lucky 13? So begins what could have been a great adventure, but The 13th Warrior plays like a laundry list of near-misses. Instead of instilling the film with either swashbuckling adventure or Wagnerian foreboding, McTiernan wavers between the two, unevenly alternating between solemn dread and energetic hijinks. Furthermore, the Die Hard director squanders several opportunities for impressive Zulu-esque battles. After building suspense by showing the evil horde's slow approach, the director mars the too-brief combat with awkward stop-frame photographic tricks better suited to a D-grade karaoke video. But the film's biggest disappointment is that it's not a fantasy at all. Those "inhuman" demons in the advertisements? Turns out they're just a few thousand body-painted Darth Maul wannabes with a penchant for aboriginal interior decorating. And in a ridiculous plot twist, it's revealed that all you have to do to turn back this dark army is destroy their leader — a scrawny, dirt-encrusted goddess-queen who looks like Chrissy Hynde after a nasty bout of mud wrestling. Fantasy-geek gripes aside, The 13th Warrior is not a bad film. Complemented by the spectacular fjord landscapes (filmed in Canada), production designer Wolf Koerger's period detail makes you feel as if Erik the Red's longship will drift in at any moment. When filmed at regular speed, the hand-to-hand combat is often intense, and a gripping Seven Samurai-like sequence where the Vikings infiltrate the horde's hideout is a delight. Banderas puts in a decent turn, but it's Norwegian newcomer Dennis Storhoi who steals the show; his charming, effortless performance shows both the perils and pleasures of being a Viking. Even though The 13th Warrior isn't a total bust, one can't help but wonder what would happen if a consistently competent director helmed a big-budget fantasy epic. Thankfully, it won't be that long until you find out: The first installment of Peter Jackson's $190 million, six-hour Lord of the Rings trilogy is due summer 2001. Still, for fantasy fans, two years is a long time to subsist on reruns of Xena. |
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