Conan The Barbarian Review
This muscular reboot is let down by a lacklustre story and god-awful script.
You can praise John Millius’ 1982 film Conan the Barbarian all you want but the bottom line is that it borrowed heavily from the Robert E Howard stories and gave bugger all back. The barren wasteland in which Millius set the film left very little to the imagination, and undoubtedly part of the reasoning behind it was to make sure that our primary focus was set firmly on the bulky 22-inch biceps of Arnold Schwarzenegger.
In stark contrast, Marcus Nispel’s reboot of the franchise whole heartedly embraces the anti-hero character and his surrounding world of Hyboria, but it’s let down by a comprehensively shoddy story and somewhat laughable script.
The film’s groundings are in much the same fashion as Millius’ – with a young Conan’s village coming under attack from an evil tyrant, leaving his father (played by a grunting Ron Perlman) to die in traditionally grandiose fashion. However, unlike the original in which Conan is enslaved into captivity, Nispel opts to demonstrate a little due diligence by exploring how the iconic character came to be the feral hulk of a man he is – thieving, pirating and all of the above.
For the most part, this section of the film is fairly engrossing, with a solid performance from 13-year-old Leo Howard who plays young Conan in a series of sequences which go some way to establishing not just the character but also the surrounding world. Regrettably, however, much of that good work is seemingly tossed out the window the moment the fully-grown Conan emerges on screen in the guise of the brooding Jason Momoa.
At this stage, you may as well pull out a Robert E Howard book and start reading because the movie descends into nothing more than a bog standard adventure story, with every encounter serving as simply a way of moving the lumbering story forward from A to B.
Should anyone really care? The ABC story arch concerns the gathering of some scattered pieces of a powerful Mask and then a search for a ‘pure blood’ descendant of some sorcerers before one climatic fight. It’s an incredibly lackluster approach to an iconic literary character, leaving a sour taste that’s on par with investing half an hour into a ‘choose your path gamebook’ only to discover you’ve died on page 63.
Admittedly, it’s not all bad. While venturing on the meandering story, Hyboria is brilliantly realised, with each location giving the surrounding world a character of its own and more importantly a wonderful fantasy edge. Equally, the action sequences certainly live up to their R rating and while the film may not be in the realms of Jonathan English’s Ironclad, they suitably live up to the gory expectations of the Robert E Howard books.
In fact, after years of tame sword wielding big screen adventures such as Clash of the Titans and Pirates of the Caribbean, it’s gratifying to finally see a bit of gratuitous violence back on the big screen, even if the rest of the film is wrapped up in a bit of a lame bow.
There’s a good foundation with which to build on and far more promise than most hack and slash adventures in recent years, but as a standalone film, Conan the Barbarian is poor. While it is beautifully rendered, the film is let down by poor storytelling, and an even worse script that never really allows Momoa the chance to flex his acting muscles outside of being ‘the beefcake warrior’.
John Millius film may have lacked a Hyborian flavor about it and Arnie’s Conan might only have had a handful of lines, but the film certainly had a compelling story; Something Nispel’s reboot is desperately in need of.
Anticipation: Crom won’t be happy if this turns out to be another boring wasteland punctuated with muscles once again. 3
Enjoyment: Hyboria is spot on and the violence suitably graphic but the story is hopelessly poor. 2
In Retrospect: A missed chance. There’s a good foundation to build on, but the immediate film is let down by a lacklustre story and god-awful script. 2
This review was conducted for Little White Lies
Jason Momoa Interview
The Conan the Barbarian star talks about the challenge of stepping into Arnie’s sandals to portray a fantasy icon.
John Millius’ original Conan, played by the then Mr Olympia Arnold Schwarzenegger, was a slow, brutish, machine of a character that no doubt provided a watershed moment in the ex-Governator’s phenomenal career. Equally, director Marcus Nispel’s origins tale of the iconic Robert E Howard character could easily provide the same platform for Jason Momoa, a long time TV actor of Baywatch, Stargate: Atlantis and more recently Game of Thrones fame. LWLies caught up with the new breed of barbarian to chat swords, orgies and the Māori Haka.
LWLies: When Marcus Nispel first came to you with the film, how important was it that the project wasn’t just a rehash of the 1982 film?
Momoa: Well I don’t even think I could play it like Arnold. I mean Arnold’s… well… Arnold. I don’t think they ever approach a new franchise like that. You know with Batman they didn’t go ‘Hey, can you play him like Keaton?’ They’ve gotta reboot this franchise. There’s eight decades of Conan, it’s not just a film, it’s not just Arnold. It’s Robert E Howard, Dark Horse Comics, it’s Frank Frazetta fans.
So were you a fan of the original films?
No, no, no… I’d never seen them! Even to this day. When it came out I was three years old and my mother wasn’t going to take me to a film with orgies and people’s heads getting loped off.
But you’re fairly knowledgeable of the rest of the Conan mythology?
Oh yeah. I loved Frazetta’s images. This movie is pulling it all together, from staying by the code of Robert E Howard to taking the wardrobe of Dark Horse. It’s the origin story. We’re trying to reboot this franchise and show this phenomenal character, this great character, not Arnold’s Character.
When it came to researching the books and the paintings how methodically did you approach it?
Well, I wasn’t able to read all the Robert E Howard books. They gave me three gigantic novels and at the point I had four weeks before filming and I had to train still. I was literally eating breathing shooting Conan. I interviewed super über fans of Conan, getting in six hours of training, the sword work, watching animals, studying lions, panthers and silverbacks and seeing how they move, I wanted to be like…
Animalistic?
Yeah exactly. He’s primitive, a barbarian yes, but he’s not stupid, Conan’s an intelligent guy. He’s a product of his environment. He lives by a code in a way.
Arnie’s Conan… well he was a bit stiff.
I wanted him to be nimble, like I say a product of his environment. Obviously I will never be Mr Olympic, nor would I want to be, Arnold’s an amazing spectacle of muscle. I transformed my body, gained 25, 30 pounds to play that role and learned all this sword fighting but I’m just an actor.
We understand you were quite competent with the sword before the movie as well?
Well working on Stargate I watched a lot of Samurai films to help me. I’m a huge Akira Kurosawa fan. But still, what the trainers taught me was amazing. We started off with all the basics and then whole bunch of combinations and then we just inserted it within the film. A lot of the fight scenes were pretty rough though because I literally didn’t have enough time to learn them.
So some of it was just on the fly?
Exactly. I did takes with Nathan Jones, the Kraken, and we practiced it in the parking lot moments before.
You’re known as quite a sporty person, but how difficult did you find the physicality of the film?
I’d say I’m pretty coordinated. I grew up playing sports. To tell the truth, being in Stargate for four years was a great warm up for this. I don’t know, you don’t mind the training so much when it’s this fun. Just like being a big kid.
Do you think fans of your previous work will like Conan?
Oh trust me they’re going to love it. Game of Thrones is all fantasy, this is in a fantasy world. Stargate obviously is sci-fi fantasy, so I think it’s going to translate very well.
Did you enjoy Game of Thrones?
Well I always wanted to work with HBO but when I read the book, I literally couldn’t put it down. I just checked out for two days and read non-stop. I was like ‘I have to have this role’. I just wanted to make the guy so intimidating so I did the Haka at the audition (the traditional Māori dance). I mean if I did the Haka in front of you sitting there you’re gonna shit yourself.
We’re okay for now, thanks.
[Laughing] Don’t worry, I won’t. I got it in my head that when I was doing it, I was pulling out my ancestors, I’m pulling out every thing I have and bringing it right there in that moment. That’s what got me Conan. I’ve only seen it done once, at my cousin’s funeral. All his friends were football players and they were doing this thing but crying at the same time, the pain, pulling in the energy. A moment seared in my brain. To truly witness a Haka like that isn’t just like seeing the All Blacks doing it. It’s got a lot of power to it.
Getting back to Conan. You’ve mentioned you made him into this brutal animal if it were, but he’s also a hero at his heart. How did you go about getting his more human side across in the film.
One of the things I love about Conan is that he is human. He’s not a superhero, he’s an anti-hero, he’s a man who can usurp a throne, he’s thief, he’s a pirate, he has a code but he’s still got… he’s earthy. He’s a human who does exceptional things. He doesn’t try and be a hero, in certain circumstances he just is. I love that about him. You can relate to him, for that time and place, he’s very human. When Marcus came to me he said he didn’t want me to be PC. You know you can slap a woman on the ass and have it be alright, not all that PC shit. I don’t want Conan to be PC, I want men to want to be him because he’s so badass.
You must have been pretty happy that the film’s been set up as R rated then? Stuff like Clash of the Titans or the new Pirates, they’re very tongue in cheek. It’s all very restrained.
Well the opening scene has Leo Howard holding three heads. I love that, my kids are not gonna watch it but for the fans its great. It’s balls to the wall and it’s fantastic to play. I almost wish sometimes they’re was even more! But there’s only so much you can push into a two-hour film. We had to cut part of the opening scene where I’m fighting because it looks like I’m having way too much fun murdering people. But yeah there is a lot of blood bags spilled on this movie. A lot of blood.
That’s not a bad thing. Do you think then that people will respond more positively to the film then?
I think the studios love getting the kids in. You get more money if it’s a PG. Your going to get 66 million in its opening weekend. But I don’t think you can PG-13 our world, That would be total blasphemy!
Earlier in your career you was doing a lot of films that played heavily on your image and traditional Hawaiian roots for the characters you was playing. Is it refreshing that the characters you playing now in Stargate, Game Of Thrones, Conan are different and not playing on that typecast?
The Hawaiian beach boy?
Yeah in a way.
I’ve never really thought about it that way. As an actor I want to do roles that challenge me. Baywatch got me into the industry, and it gave birth to something I absolutely love. I can be a doctor, a cop – I just get to study life. If I was writer I wouldn’t study how to be a doctor, as an actor the research you get to do is phenomenal. At the time I gave respect to those things, they were my first jobs, it is what it is, and now it’s evolved, it’s been a slow process for 12 years, but it helped my career. It’s got me where I wanna be right now and I’m really grateful for that.
This interview was conducted for Little White Lies
Clint Mansell Interview
With Black Swan out on home release, the film composer extraordinaire discusses being Darren Aronofsky’s right-hand man.
Very few musicians can make the jump from songwriting to feature film-scoring. Even fewer can claim to be one of the finest in the business. One man who can is former Pop Will Eat Itself member Clint Mansell. The once-dreadlocked pop-punk visionary of the 1980s gave LWLies a detailed breakdown of his extraordinary path towards becoming the most exciting film composer of the last decade recently, and discussed his unique long-term working relationship with Darren Aronofsky.
LWLies: Was your early work as a film composer kind of like trial by fire?
Mansell: Well yeah, I mean the original idea [for the Pi score] was that I was only going to write an opening title piece, sort of the main title piece. The concept was that they would use pre-existing electronic music throughout the film, and they had a whole list of songs that they wanted to use and they were pulling more ideas out. I did a piece on spec based on the conversation that Darren [Aronofsky] and I had had, and based upon the script. And it was basically a variant of the main theme that is now the main theme of Pi, but it really wasn’t it yet. But I was so nervous taking this idea into them, and with Darren being Darren, he wanted to get everybody round to listen to it, but everybody loved it.
I guess it was quite industrial sounding at the time, it was pretty dark, it had this sort of [hums a short motif] that sort of motif in it. I think it just gave it the identity that Darren had been talking about. And that’s sort of one of the things that’s continued throughout our relationship; me writing pieces of music in advance of him shooting, or when I’ve read the script, just trying to pull the atmosphere together. But the problem with that was that they had no money to license those tracks, and they had no real track record so no-one wanted to give them the use of them for nothing. So, every time a piece of music dropped out that they couldn’t license, I had to write a piece to replace it.
Did you find that quite difficult? Was that something quite difficult given what you’d been used to doing in your previous years in Pop Will Eat Itself?
I don’t remember actually, is the honest truth about. I was kinda at a strange place of my own at the time. I still thought of myself as a songwriter at the time, I wanted to write an album. So this was sort of like a distraction, plus I had the worst case of writers block in the world at the time of doing Pi. But Pi actually just liberated me and opened it up.
When you first met Darren, was it clear from your first meeting that you got on together in a collaborative sense?
Not overly I don’t think, we were both a little cagey. I’m not the easiest person to get to know, I’m very… not withdrawn… but reserved. In a collaborative sense, I’m quite reserved.
Was Requiem for a Dream a totally different beast to Pi? When Darren put the script together, how did he sell Requiem to you?
Well after we’d finished Pi, he said to me, he called me up one day, and I was still living in New York because by the time I did Requiem I was living in New Orleans. But before I left New York Darren called me up, and Pi hadn’t come out or anything by this point, and he said that I’d done a great job on Pi and that, ‘I think, if you wanted to, you could do this for a career.’ And I said that I’d never considered it, it was just a sidebar at the time, I suppose, even though I enjoyed doing it and I was happy that they’d got me out of my creative funk if you like. But you know, scoring films is one of those jobs that other people do, I was never going to get the chance to do that as much as I love movies and I love movie soundtracks, it just didn’t seem possible I suppose.
Afterwards we kept in touch and Pi went to Sundance and he won there, and it was all exciting and it came out in the summer after I left New York, and it seemed to be doing really well you know, people were talking about it. The I got a couple of calls for other films, just for random people that’d managed to get hold of me, nothing really came together but I though ‘Wow, people seem to like it, that’s pretty cool’. But he gave me the script of Requiem and he had a few other people interested in scoring it for him obviously, he said he wanted to go with me again and if I wanted to do it. So I said yeah.
How challenging was it for you being only the second film that you’d really got your teeth into?
There’s like a kind of blind naivety where you kind of hobble on. I mean, after a while, I realise this now but I didn’t realise it then, you raise the bar for yourself and you go ‘Okay, I know that’s not really good enough’ for whatever reason, sometimes you can’t respond to it and just have to say, ‘You know what? I’m not responding to that, it’s shit, I’ve got to do something more.’ And I’d again prior to Darren shooting the film, and reading the scrip, I’d done this CD, because we’d moved on from cassettes by this point, we were now able to burn our own CDs. I sent him something like an 18-track CD of musical ideas, and we got stuff that was working, there was no piece like what I brought in on Pi that really galvanised everything where you just knew you had the world that the film existed in. We didn’t have that with Requiem.
Compared with other directors you’ve worked with, is Darren not one of those people who’ll ever try to rein you in or say ‘I’m not really feeling this idea’, does he ever have those conversations with you?
Yeah, I never really got there to be honest, the only conversations we have about any sort of dilemma are always about time, and are we going to make it. Like with Black Swan we had a conversation about a month before we were due to score where he was asking, ‘Are we going to make it?’ And I say to him, ‘Yeah I think we are, but we’ll know more in a weeks time’, and that I need a good weeks work to get things through to a point where you can realise where I’m coming from. And it’s never that he doesn’t trust me or that he doesn’t like the ideas, it’s just have we got the time to get it done and to see these things through. I think he believes in it even if he doesn’t quite see what I’m doing. I mean he’s said himself sometimes, ‘I don’t really get that’ but he always lets me run with it, because, sometimes you know, my ideas at first probably don’t nail the idea that I’m working towards, but I want him to get an idea of what I do.
There was a six-year gap between Requiem and The Fountain. In that six years, there was a lot of work that you were doing on and off. Is that difficult?
Well yeah, we worked on The Fountain for like two years before they pulled it, it was six weeks out of the shooting stage. I had written a fair amount of music, not loads, but I’d written stuff that had much more of a tribal feel I guess would be the best way to describe what we were looking at. It was a much bigger picture at the time than what it ended up being, and it probably would have ended up being quite ethnic.
Did you and Darren find the process of working on that one more difficult than you would, say normally?
I imagine it was more difficult for Darren than it was for myself. We used to have production meetings once a week that I would go to, and obviously Darren was working on the film all week, but that was my main involvement, chipping away bits of music at a time. And obviously I was working on other films at the time as well as the fountain, but I would go to the meetings and we would talk about it, and Id have little sketches and we’d talk about the script. It would have been a lot more intense for Darren than it would’ve been for me. I was just sort of involved early enough to take on board what was going on and get in the mindset of it all, and to research ancient music, and we talked to a bunch of different people about that, so a lot of it was cerebral as opposed to anything else, we were just trying to discover the world of the movie more than anything else at that time. But they sot of went away, Darren toyed with a few other things, he just kept coming back to it and saying he wanted to do it.
He sort of re imagined it as a smaller piece, and that sort of changed the basis in which I was coming at it from. And it took in that time, six years is a long time after all, I had a lot of work with other directors, so built up a team of people who could really help in a bigger scope on Darren’s film, and I learnt a bit about working with orchestras, and what I liked, what I could do, what I didn’t like doing and you know just discovering myself in that time, myself in the context of the film scoring world. I did films that were very generic from my point of view, not the films themselves but my take on them, I did a couple of bigger films and did what I thought a couple of bigger films would sound like, and I completely misfired, it didn’t help me find my own voice in any way other than, ‘Ugh I don’t really want to do that again’.
With Darren we imagine there’s still a lot of precision and production for the bits that he’ll use on set. Could you just talk through some of those bits you do, because obviously they won’t be what people naturally hear when they see the finished product.
Well what I had to do, the major part of that, was to create the rehearsal pieces that you see in the film when there’s just a piano player playing, and there’s a piano and violin. We had to basically create the pieces that they would rehearse to. So I would do this then and then I’d work with Ben the choreographer, and he’d go ‘Okay this is the music, but what I need is this element or that element to be less or more… I need there to be a gap there.’ that sort of thing, so there was a fair amount of procedure to it even though they were pretty much sketches. Which we then had to go back and re-record when the film was finished. But I didn’t end up writing any actual music for them to use on the set over than this on camera stuff.
Why do you think there was the decision to bring that in this time perhaps rather that in other situations?
Well because it’s actually in the film, when you see the film you see the piano player playing, so that needed something to play. But we needed to have a constant if you like, if we had a constant piece of music that they were rehearsing to, then Andy the editor would always have something to cut to, and I had something, we all had a reference point of the same piece of music playing at the same tempo through all those scenes. So all our work would be choreographed from that, so it would be a necessary benchmark for us all.
Was Darren ever tempted to get you to cameo as the piano player?
[Laughs] He never asked me.
You weren’t a first choice then?
No, I did my cameo in Pi and my hands are in Requiem for a Dream, but I haven’t been asked back since.
Your hands are in requiem for a dream?
Yeah, there’s like a scene where Jared Leto’s character is meant to be doing something with vinyl on a turntable but that’s actually my hands not his.
The original proposal was that you were going to use the Swan Lake score, and obviously the links within the movie are all there for people to see, but when you’ve got something like Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake score, how do you even begin something of that size and notoriety?
I’d seen Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake a few years back, and Darren had given me the idea, and something that I kind of believed, that nothing was sacred really. I thought about it a lot and I listened to it a lot and then I just thought there’s no point in me trying to pretend that I’m this classical appreciator, steeped in history, I know everything about this… I don’t. What I do know is it’s like Vincent Cassel’s character says at the start of the film, Swan Lake has been done to death, but not like this, stripped down, raw, and I though maybe that’s where I’ll start. Then it goes back to that sort of punk rock ethic of, ‘Yeah that was great old man but fuck you I’m gonna do it like this’. Which with the greatest of respect because it’s a fantastic piece of work and there’s such insanity in it it’s brilliant. But to do anything of value to it meant going okay, and thinking outside of the box, and I’ve got to bring myself to this and think what would I do if someone asked me to remix Swan Lake. What we did was we transcribed the entire ballet, so that I had all the parts, and I put them all on the computer so that any bit that Tchaikovsky has written I could have access through the computer, and I just started slipping stuff out. Listening to it, going through it and highlighting bits going ‘That feel dramatic’ or ‘That feels sad, that feels scary’. Then almost filing those away.
If Tchaikovsky has written a 16-bar passage with 144 notes in it, I would strip that down to a repetitive four-bar loop that now had maybe 24 notes in it or something. So the essence of his piece was there but it was now something different because if you took swan lake and used it as a modern film score it would be almost laughable, because it’s telling you everything that’s going on, like a silent movie score almost, you know, ‘Now I’m upset, now I’m grand’ so it’s all big grand gestures, which really isn’t the modern film score way if you like. There are particular moments when you can unleash that but most of the time it’s purely underscore. So really we were stripping it down to make Swan Lake a modern movie score, and you just start a bit at a time. There was a lot of work, it’s much more in line with the amount of work we did on The Fountain and not The Wrestler, that’s for sure.
Would you say that Black Swan also came with the same kinda of pressures and stress levels that you got with The Fountain or did you know where the bumps were going to be and were prepared for them I suppose?
Well it was very stressful recording the score for Swan Lake because while Fox really stepped up and gave us the money to do it the way I wanted to do it, we were still very time compressed, it was exhausting doing it. But it gets done and, Darren and I have worked together a lot so he knows that it’s going to get done and he trusts that the scenes that he’s been thinking about I’ve probably tweaked. But when you’re in a situation where you’re recording like that with an orchestra, every second count. And you’ve got like 80 musicians to read parts and the clocks ticking while you’re doing that, it can get quite high pressure while you’re doing that. You know, I wouldn’t say it was anything particularly out of the ordinary or even particularly noteworthy.
Where did the idea for using Swan Lake come from?
Well the thing was that because there’s the black and white swan in the story, and the film itself it about two opposite characters, it jut all started to fit together. The story that Swan Lake tells musically, we could perhaps rework that so that it follows the same arc, but use our score throughout the film, so it becomes a it’s like if the character is obsessed with Swan Lake then the music would be in their life all the time. So it’s almost like a physiological element, so as well as this score it’s almost haunting her or taunting her. It’s all started becoming organically wrapped up in itself, you know? It makes a lot of sense that that would be how the music would develop.
How do you feel about some of your other scores? Like Definitely, Maybe, for example…
I really like that score, it was a real challenge for me. It’s another example of working with someone, not just the director, but the producers who… you know I’d done Smokin’ Aces with Working Title, and then they came to me and asked if I would be interested in this film Definitely, Maybe, and Adam [Brooks], the director, he liked my work but knew that what I did in general was not going to be right for his film, but he was very, very direct, and he never changed his mind about what he needed from me, and he and the producers allowed me my time to find my style of doing that. And that was a really great experience. I like that score myself, it was a real different challenge for me, but working with really good people enabled me to find something new about what I did.
Black Swan is out now on DVD and Blur-ray.
This interview was conducted for Little White Lies
My name is James Wright and I'm a 24-year-old film graduate living in London, with a passion for men’s entertainment journalism.










