Those who’ve followed my personal blog will know I’ve been producing a fairly lengthy series discussing the relation of John Milius’ Conan the Barbarian to the original Robert E. Howard stories, patterned after the Encyclopedia of Arda’s Filmgoer’s Guides to the Lord of the Rings film adaptations. It seems inevitable, then, that I would produce another one for the upcoming film. This won’t be as lengthy or detailed as the Filmgoer’s Guide ’82, and will stick to bullet points and quotes. A more in-depth edition of the Filmgoer’s Guide will likely follow in due course.

As with the Filmgoer’s Guide ’82, this is not intended to denigrate or criticize the film’s cinematic merits, but simply to serve as a guide. It isn’t about saying the film is bad, just that it’s different. For opinions on the film’s quality, one can go to the multitude of excellent and insightful reviews across the internet, or my review and critique, but this is strictly an impartial assessment – save for a few scathing remarks which I’ve retained for my own sanity, mostly in the film references section.

Anyone with any suggestions/corrections/observations, please let me know in the comments.

References to the original stories

“Between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis, and the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of, where shining kingdoms spread across the world” is a truncated excerpt from the first Conan story, “The Phoenix on the Sword” by Robert E. Howard. More information on this can be found here.

Acheron was a kingdom which once dominated a substantial portion of the world three thousand years before Conan’s time, and was destroyed by a barbarian horde who would go on to found the Hyborian kingdoms of Aquilonia, Nemedia and Argos. The Cimmerians fought the Acheronians, but had no direct part in Acheron’s downfall. The descendants of Acheron persist to Conan’s time, but they are gnarled, twisted, degenerates dwelling in hill and inner-city conclaves, rather than secretive monks of vaguely Asian descent. Acheron was only mentioned in The Hour of the Dragon, chronologically the final Conan story.

The character Xaltotun, seen for a brief moment in the film as one of the Acheronians creating the Mask, is one of the primary antagonists of The Hour of the Dragon. The existence of the mask and especially Xaltotun’s part in its creation present significant continuity issues between the film and the novel, discussed here.

Conan is born on a battlefield, as mentioned in “Black Colossus,” The Hour of the Dragon and Robert E. Howard’s letter to P.S. Miller. All that is known is that he was born during a battle between his tribe and a horde of raiding Vanir.

Conan “storming the high walls of Venarium” is a reference to the battle of Venarium retold in “Beyond the Black River,” one of the formative experiences in Conan’s early life. More information on Conan’s early life can be found here.

Cimmeria is Conan’s homeland, described as a place of perpetual mist and darkness, where even by day the land is sinister, and where the sun never breaks through the clouds. More information on Howard’s Cimmeria can be found here.

The Cimmerians, Conan’s people, are never depicted directly in the Conan stories, but Howard noted they were uniformly black-haired and blue or grey-eyed, tall, powerfully-built, and moody. They were superlative warriors and were never conquered, despite being the target of many invasions by Picts, Acheronians, Aquilonians, Hyrkanians and more, only being displaced by the great Nordic Drift. The women are noted to have fought alongside the men. More information on the Cimmerians can be found here.

The “Zingaran Slave Colony” refers to Zingara, one of the more prominent non-Hyborian kingdoms, though it’s unclear whether it is a colony in Zingara, one run by Zingarans, or has Zingaran slaves. Zingara, like many civilized kingdoms of the time, was known to have slaves, though it was not particularly known for its slavery industry in the stories. Zingara was the setting of two chapters of The Hour of the Dragon.

Messantia is the capital of Argos, one of the last Hyborian Kingdoms to be established, and the setting for the first few pages of “Queen of the Black Coast” and two chapters of The Hour of the Dragon.

“… it was he who stole The Elephant’s Heart and slew the sorcerer Yara!” – Artus’ story of his first meeting with Conan and the boasts that follow is a reference to “The Tower of the Elephant,” one of the most celebrated of Robert E. Howard’s stories: however, the details in Artus’ recollection are very different from the events of that tale, and might be attributed to Artus “spinning a yarn.” The full story as it appeared in Weird Tales can be read here.

The Turanian Desert may be a reference to the Eastern Desert, an arid expanse east of the Hyborian Kingdoms, which was conquered by Turan in Conan’s later life.

“I live, I love, I slay, and I am content” is an altered extract from one of the most famous passages in “Queen of the Black Coast,” and is one of the most concise examples of Conan’s philosophical worldview in its original form. More on this can be found here.

Hyrkania is a vast region in the far east of the Hyborian Age, occupying the lands east of the Vilayet Sea (what is now the Caspian Sea), and stretching to the eastern coast of Asia. The Hyrkanians were a nomadic culture analogous to the Mongols, and although no Hyrkanian cities are mentioned in the stories, they are mentioned on the Vilayet and eastern coasts of Hyrkania in Howard’s “The Hyborian Age” essay.

References to the Conan Franchise

Marvel Comics

Khalar Zym, a Nemedian (according to the script and Stackpole’s novelization), carries a gigantic warship over land using a team of elephants and slaves. In “Besieger of Cities” in issue #148 The Savage Sword of Conan, the Cimmerian is pursued down the Black Coast by the Nemedian Navy: Zym’s method of transportation perhaps offers an explanation of how a land-locked country thousands of miles from any substantial body of water can support a navy capable of pursuing Conan all the way to the Western Ocean. A preposterous explanation, true, but still…

The Dweller is possibly a homage to the titular monster from The Savage Sword of Conan #13, “The Dweller in the Dark.”

Conan the Barbarian (1982)

The film’s title logo is remarkably similar to the one used in the 1982 film.

Corin’s sword bears a ram’s skull motif, with the horns forming the crossguard: in the 1982 film, the Master’s Sword bears a stag’s skull motif, with the antlers forming the crossguard.

Both films show Conan’s father forging a sword using a casting technique, a method mostly used for bronze rather than steel swords.

In the 1982 film, Conan’s father’s sword is taken by Thulsa Doom, and Conan reclaims it from his first lieutennant Rexor; in the 2011 film, Conan’s father’s sword is taken by Marique, and Conan reclaims it from Khalar Zym.

The concept of Conan’s home village being destroyed, his tribe massacred and his father slain by a warlord on a search for an ancient secret is shared by both the 1982 and 2011 films.

Conan the Destroyer

Both films feature a princess (Tamara and Jehnna) whose “purity” is used in conjunction with an ancient artefact (the Horn of Dagoth and the Mask of Acheron) in a sacrifice which the villains use to resurrect an ancient evil (Dagoth and Maliva).

They also have an irritating, ineffectual sidekick who claims to be a great thief, but is actually a phoney hanging onto his giant friend’s coattails (Ela-Shan and Malik)

Red Sonja

Both films feature a sanctuary of female monks being besieged by a villain – who received a disfiguring scar by the hero during the attack on the hero’s home (Khalar Zym and Gedrun) – searching for a magical Macguffin which will aid them in ruling the world (the Mask of Acheron and the Talisman). They also feature an unarmed young boy who defeats armed men using martial arts (Young Conan and Prince Tarn), a female warrior who nonetheless becomes a damsel-in-distress at some point (Tamara and Red Sonja) and are thoroughly in the shadow of their male companions (Conan and Kalidor), and the villain’s castle collapses during the final battle as a result of the powerful sorcery at work.

Conan the Adventurer

Conan has to prove himself worthy to wield his father’s sword as a final test of his manhood, failing in an early attempt as a youngster: it is only as an adult that he finally claims the sword and wields it. This exact dynamic is seen in “The Night of Fiery Tears,” the pilot episode of Conan the Adventurer.

Conan: The Adventurer

In the 2011 film, Conan’s closest ally is a black warrior with dreadlocks and a fiery temper; in the 1998 tv series, one of Conan’s companions is a black warrior with dreadlocks and a fiery temper.

Kull the Conqueror

Both films feature the resurrection of a long-dead witch (Maliva and Akivasha) who a group of conspirators hope will give them the secrets of Acheron in a bid to rule the world.

Dark Horse Comics

Corin and Fialla are the names of Conan’s parents in the Dark Horse Conan comics, and Conan’s attire is very similar to a costume worn in Conan 0 and the Born on the Battlefield story arc.

Inventions of the Filmmakers

While the above posts may give the impression that the film is, in fact, fairly faithful to Howard’s work, one must remember that all of that amounts to a fraction of the screenplay. To truly understand how divergent the film is, one need only look at the story.

Here is the plot synopsis of the film from its Wikipedia page:

During the Hyborean Age, a group of sorcerers from Acheron created a mask from the skulls of dead kings and sacrificed their pure blood daughters to the dark gods in order to give the mask the power to subjugate the entire world. After killing countless people in their campaign to conquer the planet, the sorcerers were defeated by the barbarians led by Corin (Ron Perlman), who destroys the mask, scattering the pieces across the land, and keeping one for himself. Shortly thereafter, in a battle against a rival tribe, Corin’s wife, after being wounded by the enemy, gives birth to their son, Conan (Leo Howard), and dies.

Conan grows up to become a skilled, but violent warrior, whom his father believes is not ready to wield his own sword. One day, their village is attacked by the forces of Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang), a warlord that is reuniting the pieces of the Mask of Acheron in order to revive his dead wife and conquer Hyborea. After locating Corin’s piece and murdering the entire village, Zym leaves. Conan is the only survivor, and swears revenge.

20 years later, Conan (Jason Momoa) is a pirate still seeking for revenge. With the help of his friend Artus (Nonso Anozie), he raids a slave camp and takes the rescued slaves to the city of Messantia, where Conan meets Ela-Shan (Saïd Taghmaoui), a thief being chased by a man whom Conan recognizes as Lucius (Steven O’Donnell), one of Zym’s soldiers from years before. Conan allows himself to be captured alongside Ela-Shan, and, in prison, escapes and confronts Lucius, who is forced to reveal that Zym is planning to sacrifice the pure blood descendant of the sorcerers of Acheron in order to unleash the mask’s power. He helps the rest of the prisoners to escape, and, in retribution, Ela-Shan tells Conan that, if he ever needs him, Conan will find him at the City of Thieves, Argalon.

Meanwhile, Zym and his daughter, the sorceress Marique (Rose McGowan) attack a monastery where they believe the pure blood is. Sensing something is wrong, Fassir (Raad Rawi), an elderly monk who teaches the monastery’s students, tells one of them, Tamara (Rachel Nichols), to run away and return to her birthplace. Tamara’s carriage is chased by Zym’s men. Conan hears the commotion and, recognizing Zym’s men, attacks and kills them, saving Tamara. Conan also captures one of Zym’s men, Remo (Milton Welsh), and catapults him to Zym’s nearby camp after forcing him to reveal Tamara’s importance as the pure blood.

Zym and Marique confront Conan, who is pretending to be interested in exchanging Tamara for gold, and he attacks Zym, but Marique saves her father by invoking soldiers made of sand and then poisoning Conan with a poison-laced boomerang sword. Tamara rescues him and they return to Artus’ boat, stationed nearby, where Artus helps Conan recover. The boat is attacked by Zym’s men, and, although they kill several of Conan’s men, they are defeated. Conan orders Artus to return to Messantia with Tamara and departs to confront Zym in his kingdom. Artus tells Tamara that Conan left a map behind and she follows him, meeting with him in a cave, where they make love. The next day, as she’s returning to the boat to join Artus so they can sail away, she’s captured by Zym’s men.

Conan finds out about Tamara’s capture and departs to Argalon, where he asks Ela-Shan to help him break into Zym’s castle unnoticed, while Zym prepares to drain Tamara of her blood to unleash the mask’s energies. After confronting several monsters that guard the dungeons, Conan infiltrates Zym’s followers and watches as Zym puts on the mask, having removed some of Tamara’s blood. He confronts Zym, and the cave where they’re in begins to crumble in the ensuing battle, killing Zym’s followers. Conan is able to release Tamara, and she escapes as he fights Zym. The castle starts to fall, as Marique attacks Tamara. Conan hears Tamara’s scream and attacks Marique, cutting her hand off and Tamara kicks her into a pit, where she gets impaled by a large spike below. Zym comes and, upon finding his daughter’s corpse, he swears revenge upon Conan.

Conan and Tamara become trapped in a unstable bridge as Zym attacks them. He uses the mask’s power to call forth the spirit of his dead wife, Maliva, a powerful sorceress who was executed by the monks from Tamara’s monastery for attempting to unleash occult forces to destroy Hyborea, and Maliva’s spirit begins to possess Tamara. She begs Conan to let her fall, but he refuses, and instead stabs the bridge before jumping to safety with Tamara. The bridge collapses along with Zym. The power-hungry ruler falls to the lava below the immense precipice screaming the name of his wife, implying his demise. The mask shatters upon impact with the ground below.

Conan and Tamara escape, and he returns her to her birthplace, telling her that they’ll meet again. He then returns to his old village and tells his father that he had avenged his death and recovered the sword Zym stole from him, honoring his memory.

Here is the plot synopsis edited down and altered to include only the elements from the original stories:

During the Hyborean Age… sorcerers from Acheron… defeated by the barbarians…

…in a battle against a rival tribe… gives birth to their son, Conan…

Conan grows up to become a skilled, but violent warrior…

20 years later, Conan is a pirate… city of Messantia…

That’s it. Aside from the above references and others highlighted earlier, none of the story, characters, places or events can be found in the original stories. Khalar Zym, Marique, Tamara, Fassir, Artus, Ela-Shan, Lucius, Remo, Ukafa, Akhoun, Cherin, and all other supporting characters are inventions of the filmmakers. (We can infer that Conan had a mother and father, but their names and history is absent in the original stories.) The Monastery, Shaipur Outpost, the Forbidden Forest, Khor Kalba, Skull Cave and Argalon are inventions of the filmmakers. The Mask of Acheron is a creation of the filmmakers, and so, there is no prophecy regarding its reformation.

I just had to comment on this breathtaking link, where producers Avi Lerner and Joe Drake state why they believed Conan failed at the box office:

The concensus among Avi Lerner and Joe Drake, who had successfully released The Expendables together, is that Conan The Barbarian didn’t have the “brand equity” they hoped it would. The pair had convinced themselves that the brand was ripe for a reboot and that the fans were ready for it, so they rescued the film from the major development purgatory it had been caught in for so long.

Oh, of course, this film proves Conan just doesn’t have the “brand equity” they want.  Conan may be successful in just about every other field of media it’s branched out to, but when the film fails, it isn’t because of – say – atrocious marketing, or a mediocre product, or executives who don’t know what in blazes they’re doing.  It’s “brand equity.”

Compare Conan to Rise of the Planet of the Apes.  There is no way Planet of the Apes‘ “brand equity” was stronger than Conan’s at this point in time: the last time it made so much as a blip on the popular radar was 2001, with a poorly-received Tim Burton reimagining.  It didn’t have a long-running popular comic series, nor multiple video games, nor a resurgence in publication of the source material in the lead up to the film.  Yet Rise of the Planet of the Apes did gangbusters, even though the Planet of the Apes franchise hasn’t been on the cultural landscape for a decade. Why?  It had a good story, strong characters and quality product created by some of the best people in the industry, and advertising highlighted those strong points.

In this ecomonic climate, people can’t afford to just go to multiple films at the cinema the way they could back in the ’80s. They couldn’t just go to see a film on the off-chance it might be a laugh: they have to know they’re going to get their money’s worth. People don’t care about loyalty to brands, they just want something that’ll promise them a good night at the cinema. Judging by the success of Rise of the Planet of the Apes and The Help, it’s evident that people are more willing to go to a film for the story and characters than they are for scene upon scene of mindless action. So who’s fault is it, if not Conan?  It can’t be because it’s R-rated, because 300 and Predators have done very well in the past five years.  It can’t be the August release, because Rise of the Planet of the Apes is doing well too.

No, Lerner & Drake, it’s clear to see that whatever caused Conan to sink at the box office, it can’t be the “brand equity” being substandard.  You just squandered the potential.  Dark Horse took the Conan brand and made it one of the most celebrated indy comic titles in the last decade.  Funcom took the Conan brand and made it one of the few MMORPGs that’s still standing tall against the juggernaut of World of Warcraft where others have succombed.  Mongoose Publishing took the Conan brand and made an RPG series that spawned dozens of supplements.  Del Rey and Gollancz took the Conan brand and made multiple volumes of 80-year-old stories that are still strong sellers. All in the second half of the last decade. Seems to me that Conan was, in fact, ripe for treatment on the big screen – but Lionsgate & Millennium dropped the ball.

That said, not all non-film Conan excursions have been as successful: the 2007 videogame was something of a disappointment. Why? Because it was a mindless, fun hack-and-slash with no higher aspirations than letting people go nuts as Conan – and more importantly, that’s how it sold itself. Dark Horse, Funcom and Del Rey took a different tact: they sold Conan as an icon from one of the founding fathers of the modern fantasy genre, highlighted the majesty and complexity of the Hyborian Age as a setting, and most importantly, made it look like a compelling world with strong characters and a story to tell. I’m no marketing expert, but when I see a correlation between products that take REH seriously and promote Conan as a worthwhile, exciting adventure story doing well, and products that barely mention REH and promote Conan as little more than hack-and-slash doing poorly… I start to think maybe you should do more of that first thing and less of that second thing. Promoting REH, selling Conan as an enthralling story with fascinating characters has obviously paid dividends. Promoting Conan as nothing more than mindless killing and sexist exploitation has not.

Those companies succeeded because they took the source material seriously and delivered quality products without insulting people’s intelligence.  Lionsgate & Millennium failed because they didn’t: they were obsessed with aiming for the Spike TV crowd with advertisements that give no inkling of story and just throw a constant barrage of images. I place the blame squarely on the shoulders of marketing and the product itself.  But Avi Lerner and Joe Drake are never going to admit that – it’s brand equity, it’s Jason Momoa, it’s the disloyal fans who dare to vote with their wallet.

In other words, it’s everyone’s fault but their own.

Nonetheless, perhaps we should let Lerner & Drake think that the reason it failed was because the brand didn’t have “equity.”  Maybe that’ll mean they drop Conan, and the license can get into the hands of someone who knows what to do with the property. Just keep telling yourselves that, guys – then if someone comes along and delivers the Conan movie everyone’s been waiting for, you can just blame it on the “timing,” or “market analysis,” or whatever. As ever, blame it on everything except yourselves.

Well Cromrades, you knew it was coming, and it is: I have seen Conan the Barbarian, and I have thoughts on it. Many, many thoughts.

This was always going to be a very difficult review to write. I have so much invested in the character of Conan, the work of his creator Robert E. Howard, and any future adaptations that hinge on this film. The reception and gross of this film is vital to the productions of Kull of Atlantis, Dark Agnes, Bran Mak Morn, Vultures, Pigeons from Hell, and who knows how many other Howard creations are in the pipeline. If the film does well, then we might finally get what Howard fans want most in a Robert E. Howard adaptation: Robert E. Howard.

While I’m always aware that I’m a big fan at heart, and it isn’t as if my word can make or break a production. But I am aware that what I say matters, and that I make a difference – the extent of that difference not immediately clear or quantifiable, but definitely present. I’m keenly aware of my responsibility for my words to be said with the utmost care.

As such, I’m going to write both a review and a critique: the review is the general, broad opinion of the film based on my reaction, with no real delving into plot, character or story details. The critique will deal with much more in-depth analysis, which would naturally mean every other aspect of the film. Those wanting to wait until they’ve seen the film to make a judgement would be advised only to read the review, and wait until after viewing for the critique.

As of this moment, I’m still putting the finishing touches on my review, so as a taster, here’s the capsule:

Conan the Barbarian (2011) is better than I was expecting in some respects, and worse than I was anticipating in others. On pure cinematic merits, it is not as successful as the 1982 film or Solomon Kane, but it is not quite as heinous as Conan the Destroyer or Kull the Conqueror either. In terms of adapting Robert E. Howard’s creation, it’s only marginally more faithful than any of its predecessors, just in different respects. Jason Momoa, with the right director, script and story, could be a fine interpretation of Howard’s Conan: there are brief, wonderful moments in the film where I momentarily forgot what film I was watching, and he’s definitely closer to REH than Arnold’s ever was. The basic story is still pathetic, some of the effects are simply atrocious, and there’s no thematic core, philosophy or subtlety to speak of – on the other hand, the natural scenery of Bulgaria is a joy to behold, some of the effects are surprisingly solid, and there’s a pervasive sense of enthusiasm from the cast that can be woefully lacking in these sorts of films. In short, some parts better, some parts worse, but overall, much as how I expected it to end up.

UPDATE: Now for the review itself. Click on, if you dare…

My initial reaction to Conan the Barbarian 2011 was that parts of the film were much less terrible than I was fearing, while others were much worse. Frankly, it’s still a rather terrible film from a pure cinema fan’s perspective (which tends to be the case for a lot of action films, so much so that they’re called “critic proof”) – but is it at least an enjoyably terrible film, and does it have any bright spots? Therein lies the dilemma.

I like starting off with the bad in my reviews, since I like to think the good makes up for it, and leaves a more positive feeling in the end.

First of all

Right from the start, I know exactly what my greatest grievance with the film is, and it’s the direction by Marcus Nispel. Now, I’m not going to say he’s an atrocious director, or incompetent, or an idiot with no sense of basic narrative structure, because frankly, I don’t think it would be very nice. Marcus Nispel is, in fact, something of an auteur: I get the distinct impression that this is exactly the film he wanted to make. All his idiosyncrasies make sense if you think of him in the same terms as you would for Uwe Boll: he’s a man who doesn’t care about things most people take for granted, like “this has to make sense,” or “you have to explain this,” or “you have to have some sense of pace or tempo or rhythm in order to make a satisfying film” – just that the film he makes is the film he wants. The problem with all this is self-evident: the type of film Marcus Nispel wants to make is directly opposed with the kind of film that Conan deserves.

Conan does not deserve a film where the action is interspersed with Bond-esque one-liners, or people making funny squeals and mugging for the camera when they’re kneed in the groin, or an interlude involving a man strapped to a catapult that looks, sounds and feels like a live-action Wile E. Coyote vignette (Holy MITRA, that scene…) Conan does not deserve action scenes that are devoid of visceral power and suffused with the sort of balletic acrobatics more suited to a stage show or Xena: Warrior Princess. Conan does not deserve to live in a world that has no sense of history or majesty, where one beautiful city is like any other, and there’s no idea of scale in the various characters’ travels. As a generic Swords-and-Sorcery film, it’s merely adequate: as a Conan film?

John Milius’ Conan the Barbarian had a lot of faults. Let’s forget for a second that it had next to nothing to do with Howard’s work, or the myriad plot and shooting issues. Milius’ film was directly inspired by the likes of Kurosawa, Kobayashi, Eisenstein, Pastrone, Ford – some of the greatest and most influential minds in cinematic history. Sure, it could be disjointed and uneven, but Milius was inspired by the best, and it shows. Some shots in that film are works of art. Marcus Nispel’s Conan was more inspired by Lucas, Spielberg, Zemeckis – in other words, people of the same generation and mindset as Milius. All those directors were inspired by earlier filmmakers, to the point where they actively homage them in their work – lifting entire scenes from previous works. Nowadays, people are making homages to them – which is essentially a homage to a homage. This results in a work that is as lifelessly derivative and creatively bankrupt as a photograph of a traced drawing of a painting.

Marcus Nispel’s Conan the Barbarian suffers from this issue to a profound extent, but instead of being reminded of Kwaidan, Alexander Nevsky or Cabiria, we’re reminded of the blockbusters of yesteryear, and instead of working for the benefit of theme and narrative, they’re in there purely to look cool and take up space. Milius taking visuals from “Hoichi the Earless” was used to emphasise the eastern mysticism pervading the film; borrowing the sword ceremony and armour of the Teutonic Knights of Alexander Nevsky was highlighting the “glamour of the crusade” in Doom’s quest for steel and the cult-like devotion of his men even at that stage of his life; taking the visual of Maciste pushing a wheel served to illustrate the Kafkaesque symbolism of the wheel in regards to mind-numbing repetition reaping rewards as well as being trying. Nispel borrowing the falling sacrificial wheel from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was done because… it was a neat action scene. Nispel lifting the egg-chase from Rapa Nui was done because… it was cool. There is no sense of invention, creativity, or daring about the film: everything that’s good is good because it’s been done – better – elsewhere, and everything that’s bad is because it doesn’t have any place in the film.

Despite Sean Hood’s efforts, very little of his work remains in the film, and I fear he’s going to take the fall for such horrendous lines as “what is your claim – DEATH!” “Now I’m going to kill you with your own father’s sword!” and the transcendent “Farewell my friend.” Some story choices are just bizarre, confusing and self-contradictory: more of those in the critique. All the set-pieces feel like set-pieces, not organic episodes of a whole narrative, but a series of unconnected events happening in succession. None of the characters are fleshed out beyond basic lip service, and many don’t have lines, or even names. They don’t even have closure half the time.

The effects in this film were… uneven. Some of the effects were quite good, while others were just horrendous. The prologue was probably the worst. Utterly dire, effects more worthy of the Asylum than other effects we see in this very film. Khalar’s battleship and its accompanying elephants were quite shockingly poor, and although I can’t be sure, I think they might actually have looped the animation of the pachyderms in one scene. Though the matte paintings were excellent as a general rule, there were some that were not up to that standard: a stack of ruins on the coast, the opening shots of Acheron, a few close-ups of Khor Khalba, and a few others scattered about that were very obvious in comparison to the good effects and natural scenery.

I’m not going to bother talking about the music, because even accounting for the fact that we weren’t going to be blessed with anything approaching Poledouris’ opus from the 1982 film, I’m truly astounded by how unmoving Bates’ score was. It was just… there. Completely perfunctory, uninspired, blase, mundane, adequate. No flair, no power, no drive, no soul. The only part that was remotely interesting was the end credits… and it’s not good when the accompaniment to a list of names is the only part of a film score that has any impact.

Aside from the obvious, I think what I hated most about the film was its treatment of sex and violence. I actually felt insulted by it. First, the violence: if you remove all the blood, it’s the sort of balletic acrobatics you see in Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and 300. It’s all jumping about, 360 flips, and inefficient flourishes that would get anyone in an actual fight killed in short order. It isn’t men fighting for their lives, it’s men showing off their agility and flair. It isn’t something with gravitas, power and resonance, it’s something light, bland and irrelevant. This isn’t battle, it’s a dance. The sheer amount of action scenes inevitably mean that the violence is sincerely diluted as a result, to the point where it’s meaningless. Conan doesn’t come across as an incredible warrior laying waste to mighty foes: he comes across as a monster massacring helpless enemies – or he would, if the enemies had any distinguishing elements worth a damn. Despite accusations of Conan glorifying violence, Howard was actually very frank, stark and relentless in his depiction of violence as the cruel and unpleasant experience it is – but the fact that the hero was still alive added the thrill of knowing you are still alive to counterbalance it. For violence to be Howardian, it has to have people simultaneously repulsed and enthralled: I felt neither during this film’s action scenes, and was actually put off by how insincere it was.

The treatment of sex, frankly, disgusted me. This film is unforgiveably chauvinistic in some key scenes, which put off the good will I had in their depiction of Conan’s mother, for all the two minutes she appeared on screen. Given that Howard was nothing short of ahead of his time when it came to not only making strong women, but giving the women who aren’t warriors or leaders a bit more backbone than the fawning whelps of his peers, I’m not happy about this one bit. This film presents Tamara’s independence as impudence rather than perfectly justifiable indignation, and though she eventually gains Conan’s approval through her martial skills, that doesn’t justify one early scene that had me fuming in rage, and will no doubt not be well received by feminist viewers. The slave girls… well, I’ll leave that to the critique, suffice to say that this nonsense might fly in a John Norman story, but shouldn’t be anywhere near a Robert E. Howard one. The film’s one sex scene was, not to put too fine a point on it, about as natural-looking as an ‘80s softcore music video, exacerbated by its hilarious incongruity within the film’s setting. At least it wasn’t offensive, unlike the slave rescue.

As for fidelity to the source material… yeah, you all know by now. If Conan the Barbarian was a rock 100 miles from Robert E. Howard, then this film is about 95 miles away. I should say that the attempts to reconcile the film with Howard are appreciated, much appreciated, but to be frank, it’s too little too late. The infusion of Howardian elements in this film is like using plasters to heal decapitation. Sure, putting a few bandages (sorting out the geography, improving Khalar’s backstory, changing races and nationalities to fit better) might stop some of the blood seeping out and close up some of the wound… but you can’t fix a beheaded corpse. Once the head’s cut off, you can’t save it. All you can do is put on a prosthetic head and hope no-one will notice.

On the other hand…

With all this criticism, you might wonder if there are any bright spots. I did say some parts were better than expected, after all. The most noticeable one, for me, is that the film is a lot easier to follow than I was fearing. Many lines of vital exposition, plot development and character interaction which I was led to believe were removed were indeed in the cut I saw. Artus’ brief explanation of Conan’s worldview to Tamara, Marique & Tamara’s conversation (my assistant asserted this wasn’t nearly enough to pass the Bechdel test, and admittedly I agree: if they’d just cut Khalar out of the conversation…), even a little extra dialogue for the villains to make them more than just meaty scenery. I can only assume the European cut of the film differs in some way, or earlier versions had just cut those scenes out: whatever the case, I was pleasantly surprised to hear some lines – if gnashing my teeth at some of the cheesy additions which most certainly weren’t in the script I read.

Jason Momoa is another success… sort of. In fact, Jason was by far the most frustrating thing about the film, in a way, because as with James Purefoy in Solomon Kane, there were real flashes of Robert E. Howard’s Conan in his performance… but because of the story and direction, these brilliant moments were few and far between, and horribly undermined by the very non-Robert E. Howard things that we see. There’s one particular moment in the film which almost had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, so Conan-esque it was. Based on Game of Thrones and a few moments in Conan, I know that Jason Momoa could be Howard’s Conan, so long as the right director and story were involved. In this, he’s a swaggering, sadistic, chauvinistic bully, about whose personality and worldview we know practically nothing, who is utterly unchanged from beginning to end.

Is he closer to Howard’s Conan than Arnold, and does he make a better Conan than Arnold? By Crom, yes, on both counts. Arnold’s Conan could never be Howard’s Conan: the two characters’ histories are just so irreconcilable that you might as well be talking about two different individuals. However, what’s worrisome is that the ways he’s closer to Howard’s Conan than Arnold is because of what he isn’t, not because of what he is: instead of Jason’s character being more like Conan because he’s more like Howard’s Conan, it’s because he’s less like Arnold’s. It may seem like splitting hairs, but I think there’s an important distinction to be made. Jason’s Conan is closer than Arnold’s Conan because he is not forced into slavery as a child, nor is he thrust into pit-fighting as an adult, nor taken to the Far East to train in the use of the katana: all greatly appreciated, but it’s like saying “Jason’s Conan was not abducted by aliens; nor has he had his brain swapped with that of a tapir, nor was he transported to the 25^th Century”: there’s an awful lot more that Conan didn’t do than what he did do, and of the things we know Robert E. Howard’s Conan did, there’s precious little evidence of it in this film.

Leo Howard was also a pretty solid young Conan. This was a young Conan I could believe hunted mountain-beasts with spears, or had been discussed in the council fires all over Cimmeria, or – in a few years, perhaps – would break the neck of a wild Cimmerian bull. In-between the ridiculous roundhouse kicks and silly katas, Leo brings an intensity and ferocity to the role that’s sorely needed to wash away Jorge Sanz’s heartfelt but entirely inappropriate performance. If they cleaned up the fight choreography and made his attacks brutal rather than flashy, I’ve no doubt people would buy that this boy is not someone to trifle with. Frankly, I’d love to see Leo take on the early thief Conan stories in a few years.

Of the supporting cast, I like Ron Perlman’s Corin and Nonso Anozie’s Artus the best. Perlman does a great mixture of loving father and brutal barbarian, treating his son with alternate kindness and harshness without his treatment being jarring or schizoid. He doesn’t sleepwalk through the role like he did recording the 2007 Conan game, either: this was him on his A-game, and though the material he had to work with precluded a stellar performance, he was still a highlight. Anozie was given a somewhat thankless task as the Token Black Sidekick, but his jolly eloquence constrasting with his bearlike charisma and presence was very likeable to me, to the point where – horror of horrors – I might not necessarily mind seeing him return in future. Perhaps, in an adaptation of “Queen of the Black Coast” treated as a prequel, we could see Conan’s first meeting with Artus on board the Tigress…

The one thing I liked about the other cast members was that there was a definite sense of enthusiasm. Everyone was having fun in this film, be it Lang devouring the immediate area as Khalar Zym, McGowan savouring her large portion of ham as Marique, or Anozie and Taghmaoui being energetic and cheerful as Artus and Ela-Shan respectively. Bob Sapp and Nathan Jones fulfill their roles as Professional Huge Persons admirably, though Nispel never really takes full advantage of their grand dimensions to the extent he should. Of all the cast, only Ron Perlman and Raad Rawi try to give somewhat more sombre and serious performances, but even they couldn’t resist going overboard at times, having a nibble at the few parts of the set Lang and McGowan haven’t consumed in their rampage. I didn’t think anyone was on autopilot, or having a rough time: everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, and it’s kind of infectious. Compared to the dull, lifeless dross of Prince of Persia and Clash of the Titans, I’d at least prefer the cast to seem entertained by what they’re doing than bored to tears.

The effects that were good, were very good: these were the particle effects of dust, fire, cloud and whatnot, which are damned difficult to do well, and so I applaud them for doing them well done. The stunts may have been completely inappropriate for the type of Conan film I envision, but in terms of technique and competence, the 300 choreographers and Bulgarian stuntment did a fine job. As I said earlier, some of the matte paintings are quite beautiful: the far shots of Khor Kalba, the Shaipur outpost, the monastery, Messantia, Argalon and what I presume to be Hyrkania are quite lovely, and I wish the other mattes were up to those standards.

Special mention should be made of the locations. It’s very evident when the film is showing us a digital matte, and when we’re seeing Bulgaria: when it’s the latter, it’s absolutely beautiful, and entirely real. The scenes shot at Prohodna, the petrified forest, the stone river, the Black Sea Coast and elsewhere add that touch of authenticity that the film desperately needed, and it isn’t as familiar as the much-mined New Zealand locations of Hercules, Xena and the Lord of the Rings films.

“But what do you expect? It’s just a Conan movie”

If all you know of Conan is a vague recollection of a pair of 1980s films, coupled with a rough knowledge of other Sword-and-Sorcery films, then I can see why someone would react to my criticism of the film’s story, characterisation, themes and general content with perplexity. After all, people only go to Conan to see sex, action and adventure, right?

Even those who know that Conan was created by Robert E. Howard – even some who’ve read his stories – might think those expecting more from a Conan film than blood, breasts and brutality are pretentious, deluded souls seeing things that aren’t there, desiring profundity and complexity in an adaptation that isn’t warranted from the source material.

These people, of course, are idiots.

Well, no, of course they’re not idiots, that’s just unkind – but I do strongly disagree with that assessment. Greater Howard fans and scholars than I have given copious examples of why Howard was more than just a particularly good pulp writer: that there is real depth and complexity to his writings, mythic significance in his characters and narratives, philosophical and symbolic vigour that truly does elevate his work beyond the status of mere subliterary hackwork. One need only peruse REHupa.com, The Cimmerian, REH-e-apa.com, Two-Gun Raconteur and other sources to find that there is indeed quite a lot more to Howard’s Conan than you’d find in a dime-a-dozen other Sword-and-Sorcery films.

That’s why this film smarts so much: it’s just a dime-a-dozen Sword-and-Sorcery film. The villain has slightly more motivation than most, and it has nicer scenery than most… but what does it have to offer over The Scorpion King or The Beastmaster? Does it have the cosmic tragedy, subverted Biblical allusions and intellectually curious barbarian of “The Tower of the Elephant”? Can one glean the civilized hypocrisy and arrogance threatening the honest underclass through colonialism of underestimated barbarism of “Beyond the Black River”? Is there an iota of the delving into the corruptive power of decadence and complacency exemplified by “Red Nails”?

In fact, let’s forget the deeper things, and concentrate on the basic stuff. Are any of the villains in this film remotely as compelling as the inhuman Xaltotun, the charismatic Thoth-Amon, the sadistic Tsotha-Lanti, the conspiratorial Tascela, or the sympathetic anti-villain Khemsa? Do any of the creatures have any of the impact of the heartbreaking Yogah, the sinister Satha, the monstrous Winged One, the unstoppable Khosatral Khel, or the almost-human Thak?  Is a single one of the supporting characters comparable to the magnificent Valeria, the stalwart Pallantides, the heroic Balthus, the boisterous Taurus, or the unforgettable Belit? Any locations so resonant as Zamora’s Maul, Xuthal, Xuchotl, Tarantia, Belverus, Khemi? Any set pieces as memorable as Conan’s stand against his conspirators and the chilling reminiscence of his homeland in “The Phoenix on the Sword,” his battle against the spider and subsequent meeting with the tower’s captive in “The Tower of the Elephant,” his monstrous battle with Thog in “Xuthal of the Dusk,” breaking the neck of a vulture in his teeth while crucified in “A Witch Shall Be Born,” his pulse-pounding flight from the Picts in “The Black Stranger”?

No. There’s obviously something that has people coming back to Robert E. Howard and Conan after 80 years in a way they aren’t coming back to his contemporaries or successors; something that’s missing in the tales of Brak, Thongor, Jongor, Elak, and other Sword-and-Sorcery heroes; something that makes him worth returning to every generation. The sex, violence and bloodshed in Howard’s Conan is like the heroics, guns and battles of Lawrence of Arabia: they’re what makes it the same as other war films, not what makes it special.

But what did you think of the film?

A lot of people worked hard on this film. Fredrik Malmberg has been battling the dunderhead forces of Hollywood to get a remotely Howardian film made since his company bought the rights. Sean Hood worked tirelessly to make a film that’s not only more Howardian, but just more coherent and satisfying a narrative. I needn’t even mention the many cast and crew members who put so much effort into performances and creating sets, props and tools to make the best film they could with the budget, resources, time and talent available.

So it’s actually really painful for me to admit that I hated the film.

Not only from a Howard purist’s standpoint, mind – no doubt if I didn’t know of the divergences in advance, I would’ve hated it even more – but from a cinemagoer’s standpoint too. Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not so blinded by purist sensibilities that I can’t enjoy a film on its own merits. I enjoyed the 1982 film, after all, as well as Total Recall, Blade Runner and I, Robot despite their vast divergences to their respective source material, and their own disparate qualities to boot. I’m not even that much of a snob: while I confess to preferring the likes of Tarkovsky and Reggio, that doesn’t mean I can’t also relish truly abysmal flicks like the live-action Fist of the North Star. But this film…

Believe me, I tried to like this film. I wanted to like it so much. But I couldn’t, and I can’t lie. But that doesn’t mean you won’t like it: after all, the only way you can find out is to experience it for yourself. Crom knows I have my share of films I’ve liked that others hated, and the reverse: perhaps my opinion will be in the minority. Frankly, I’d love that to be the case, that I’m just a curmudgeonly old purist/film-lover who had completely too much investment to make a fair assessment of a film. It’s entirely possible that those with different expectations will enjoy the heck out of this film: certainly you never have time to be bored, there’s always something happening on screen, there are plenty of nice visuals, it’s easy enough to follow. Have I got myself in so deep that I simply can’t make an impartial judgement? Only one way to find out: you, the reader, are the only one capable of making the decision. I’m not going to recommend people don’t see the film, as I believe it’s one of those films where you’ll just have to see for yourself. Will you enjoy it, or will you hate it? I sure can’t tell. I just wish that, if Conan the Barbarian turns out to be well-liked – maybe it will, look at the bank Michael Bay’s Transformers series made – I could join in that chorus.

I’ll have a longer, more detailed critique of the film up sometime this week, where I get into exactly what parts I enjoyed and, ahem, what parts I didn’t, explaining more thoroughly why I liked/disliked them, and where I think the Conan film franchise can go from here. Until then, I’m going to have to catch upon other reviews…

Fellow adventurers,

I wish to address you on the current state and future of the blog. Right now, the makers of Conan the Barbarian are consolidating their power, preparing for a siege upon the greater public. Their armies of marketers, advertisers and promoters are converging, ready to make their lightning assault. Already skirmishes and sorties have been fought, ground has been gained and lost, victories attained and defeats suffered. Trailers, teasers, clips, interviews, posters, tie-ins and the like have made their mark, but it is only the beginning.

The Conan Movie Blog has been something of a wild card here. While we support Conan the Barbarian’s cause in the promotion and celebration of Robert E. Howard and his most famous creation, that doesn’t mean we blindly support every decision or interpretation made by the forces of Paradox, CPI and Lionsgate. We certainly don’t follow their whim or command. If the filmmakers are the Achaeans and the skeptical public the people of Troy, then I’d like to arrogantly compare the Conan Movie Blog’s staff, forumers and commentators to Achilles’ Myrmidons: nominally on the side of the Achaeans/Filmmakers and with the same goals and objectives, but answering to no-one, and with their own stratagies and code of conduct in mind.

For the past few months, we Conan Movie Blog myrmidons have been happy to battle the Trojans, dispelling myths, correcting misinformation, criticizing poor journalism, supporting the Achaean filmmakers when we feel aid would be justified and necessary. But those who’ve read the Illiad will recall that there comes a point where Achilles retreats to his tent, unable to be coaxed out, and refusing to emerge. He refused to fight, be it for Achaean or Trojan, and just sits in his tent while the battle rages around him.

In the past few days, I received a wealth of information about the upcoming film that completely alters my perception of it. I will not say whether it is good or bad, and in fact, it doesn’t matter in this instance: what matters is that anything I say will be coloured by what I know, and knowing how to proceed with this information is presenting me with a dilemma.

Now let’s be clear, first of all: I haven’t seen the film. Now that that’s out of the way, I can confirm that I know a lot more about the film than I probably should. Little birdies are everywhere. So, I’m going to lay all my cards on the table:

• I know, with a fair level of detail, what happens in the final shooting script
• I know, with a fair level of detail, what happens in the film
• I know, with a fair level of detail, how closely the novelization and Conan: The Mask of Acheron follows both script and film

Now, the dilemma: how can I continue to report on a film the way I have, when I know what’s happening?

An example is the Stills & Analysis posts I’ve been doing. Before this week, I had access to little more information available than anyone reading the blog couldn’t access themselves. I relied on interviews, previous trailers, old scripts, and rumour to ascertain what’s happening in each 30-second TV spot, or 2 minute trailer. I was going to do this for the recent “When Blood Is Spilled” sequence: give my ideas of what was happening, what it could mean in the larger context of the story, discern whether this standard is carried through the rest of the film, or exceeded/unmatched. But now that I know, I wouldn’t be making observations or suppositions, I would be relaying facts. It just doesn’t feel right for me to do this now.

In a way, it’s a relief: I couldn’t have kept up at this level with all the new information coming out – you’ll notice I had fallen behind on the Stills & Analysis posts, and some are still unreleased – and so I will leave the analysing and supposition to the other  loyal, dedicated and passionate fans, while I sit and muse on the situation from my tent. I’ll still be reporting news and events regarding the film, but opinions, observations and analysis? Well, we’ll see – at least until the film’s released. Then Achilles will emerge, and accompany the Myrmidons to the battle onscreen.

In the mean time, I’ll release what I’ve done of the other Stills & Analysis posts, discuss the Howardian/un-Howardian elements of “When Blood Is Spilled,” and my review of Conan: The Mask of Acheron and Conan the Barbarian: The Classic Original Stories That Inspired The Film, both of which I picked up today. In the former case, I’ll be able to judge it purely on its own merits, since I know how it compares and contrasts with the film & novelization.  In the latter case, well, it’s Howard. That’s always been my strong suit on this blog.

I’m a bit behind because I don’t have any strong feelings one way or the other in regards to the marriage of Prince William to Kate Middleton, but I was rather taken aback by the headgear sported by Princess Beatrice for the occasion:

Tell me I’m wrong.

I, Laird Taranaich, Castellan of the Conan Movie Blog, is proud to announce the grand opening of the Conan Movie Blog Forums!

I’d like to reiterate Waldgeist’s statements: this does not affect the Conan Movie Blog as it is in any way, shape or form. The blog will still be here, unaltered, unabridged, unmuddled-up-with: all that’s happening is an expansion for any community members who want to discuss other aspects of the upcoming Conan film and the Conan franchise in general. Not only can you talk about the upcoming film, but the original Robert E. Howard stories, the pastiches by later authors, the art of Frank Frazetta and other illustrators, the comics, the 1980s films, the television series, the cartoons, the action figures, the statues, all the way to the novelty fridge magnets and MAD Magazine parodies. There’s even an off-topic forum for any old thing that comes to mind. I won’t be taking an active role in the running of the forum – someone still has to comb the ‘net for more Conan info, after all – but I will be reading the threads, and will likely comment every so often.

While I love the Robert E. Howard Forums and still consider it one of the most polite, easygoing and satisfying discussion sites I’ve had the pleasure of participating in, I also realise that its tightly regulated protocol enforced by dedicated and vigilant moderators might not be to the liking of all. Hopefully this site will allow those who do not, or cannot, participate on the Robert E. Howard Forums, the Conan Completist, the Robert E. Howard Inner Circle, or other discussion groups an opportunity to enjoy the spirited debate and shared enjoyment of the 80-year phenomenon that is Conan.

At the very least, take a gander over at the forums to see what it’s all about. See you there!

I am no longer actively posting news on the blog, but I am still privately host of the blog. I see the amount of comments and people posting increasing every day and so I thought it might be time to direct a question at you, the Conan Movie Blog Community.

We wanted to ask you guys first, because we all know the entry barrier for a forum is pretty high and many people just can’t be bothered to manage yet another forum account. But we also don’t wanna pass on the opportunity to give you a more extended home, that enables you to be more active.

Choose what you like and we will act accordingly

On a sidenote, a couple of days ago we broke through the 100 000 unique visitors per month barrier for this month already – Yay! (good job Taranaich for continuing to build this community!)

Edit

To clarify all confusion. This blog as it is now will stay exactly as it is right now, including all it’s functionality and comment system. This poll is just there to determine how many people would be interested in an additional forum – obviously we need people to make a forum worthwhile. We didn’t know outright how many of the readers of the blog would even be interested in conversing in a forum, so we thought to give it a vote. Again, nothing will change once a forum is added. It’s just there as an additional functionality.

A little something different today. Recently, Sean Hood has leapt into the fray regarding the upcoming Conan the Barbarian’s script, engaging the fans on a level no doubt some of his colleagues would consider foolhardy. Nonetheless, what followed has been a spirited – if heated and passionate – discussion on the merits and nature of change in literary-to-cinematic adaptation, and Sean was surprised at the response. So surprised, in fact, that he actually contacted me in regards to a few Conan-specific questions.

While I was momentarily astonished and somewhat bewildered as to why an established screenwriter like himself would be interested in what I, a Howard enthusiast and Conan fan, would have to say, I was only too happy to oblige. It isn’t every day I’m asked to participate in an interview, after all. So, if anyone’s interested in what I see in Howard’s work, what fascinates me about Conan, why I spend so much time reading up and reporting on a film which I’ve often criticized in the past, what Conan story I’d love to see as a film, and what other Howard character I want to see adapted, take a gander at the first part of Sean Hood’s interview.

One thing I was very wary of was that I might give the impression I was speaking on behalf of all Howard fans, as some sort of spokesman for Howardom: Crom knows we’re a varied and conflicted pack of wolves who disagree as much as we agree on something! So, I invite all the blog’s readers to send in their own thoughts on Sean’s questions in the comments:

Both you and the readers of your blog have a deep, emotional connection to Conan. What is it about Conan’s character that resonates so deeply for you?

If a future film were to be based directly on a Howard story or novella, which one in particular do you think would make the best movie? Which one would fans most like to see?

Other than Conan, what Robert E. Howard character would you most like to see on screen?

Recently, I made a post that included a number of pictures from the upcoming Conan film. However, due to circumstances of distribution and copyright, I have had to take down both the pictures and the source.  I’m going to respect the wishes of all involved, but at the same time, I feel the need to keep everyone informed about the upcoming film, especially considering there’s been a considerable dearth of news over the past few weeks.

Exactly what to do with this news I’m uncertain, but I’ll come to a conclusion fairly soon. I just ask that anyone who does have the links and pictures, please do not post them in the comments or elsewhere, until all this is figured out.

EDIT: It seems Bleeding Cool has some images which I shall neither confirm nor deny that are related to said disappeared images.  I don’t know exactly where Bleeding Cool got these images in their mysterious email, but I shall say it was not from any of the team at Conan Movie Blog.

Greetings, all. Big changes here at Conan the Movie Blog: the founder and master of the blog, Johannes “Waldgeist” Rebhan, has decided to step down as the site’s administrator. Since February of 2009, Johannes had taken it upon himself to keep the world informed about the upcoming Conan film, to debunk or confirm rumours, and provide speculation on the film’s direction. Since then, it has grown into a small community of its own, with dozens of visitors leaving hundreds of comments, and unique visitors per day numbering in the thousands.

He has bestowed upon me the keys to the castle, and tasked me with continuing to bring news of the Conan film to the fine community which has grown over the past year. Johannes wants to imparts his farewells and thanks to the commentators, viewers, and fans of the blog: he did not inform me of the reasons for his retirement, and I’m not going to speculate. Suffice to say, he’s going to miss the blog.

In the meantime, I’ll be the castellan of this keep, and will endeavour to continue Johannes’ fine work. My name is Al Harron, whom some of you might know from The Cimmerian or The Blog That Time Forgot. I’ll be posting under the name Taranaich, my user name at the Official Robert E. Howard Forums. If anyone has any questions, queries, challenges or death threats, I’ll be happy to address them in the comments when I can.

Hopefully I’ll do Johannes proud, and Conan the Movie Blog will continue to be the primary resource for Conan.

Cloigeand abu!