IT’S ONLY PULP: A Fair and Balanced Review of CONAN THE BARBARIAN (2011)
Friends, Bloggers, Conan Fans, lend me your ears! I come not to defend the new CONAN movie, but to present an informal overview that examines what works and what doesn’t work. To begin, I’ve seen a lot better movies … and I’ve seen a LOT worse movies.
First, let’s consider the source: Robert E. Howard is a largely respected fantasy author by today’s standards. However, that was not the case in the 20s and 30s when he was publishing his lurid pulp adventure stories in WEIRD TALES and similar pulp magazines of the time. In Howard’s day, pulp fiction was considered “trash,” and it was treated accordingly. Sex and violence were common ingredients in a good pulp tale, and Howard’s work is definitely full of both. However, what was considered obscene in the Pulp Era seems rather tame compared to the graphic sex and violence we see in today’s media. You can look at this in two ways: Either we as a society have gotten less uptight about certain subjects, or we have become a more depraved society. It’s all a matter of perspective. And as many philosphers will tell you, perspective is reality.
The new CONAN THE BARBARIAN film isn’t exactly a remake, but it does borrow its revenge motif from the original (and superior) John Milius CONAN film from 1982. That was NOT a Howard plot point. The Conan of Howard’s tales is not pursuing vengeance for his slain father, his slain mother, or his slain village. However, he would certainly have not been above bringing bloody and thunderous vengeance to anybody who wronged him. It simply was not his driving ambition, as it is in the movies.
Before I talk about the movie’s failings, let me first say what works about it: The visuals. Marcus Nispel’s CONAN THE BARBARIAN is a visual triumph. The Hyborian Age has never looked so wondrous, splendid, and believable on screen. From the virgin wilderness and Cimmerian villages to the decadent, sprawling cities, the vast monastaries, and the ancient citadels with skull-shaped caves, the movie simply looks fantastic. The costuming too is spot-on and suitably grimy, evocative, and well-designed. Same goes for the props: swords, spears, armor, ships, etc.
It all LOOKS fantastic. But looks aren’t everything…
I’ve refrained from talking about Conan the Barbarian (2011) until now, despite my love for Robert E. Howard’s works. But now that we’re poised on the eve of its U.S. release, I thought I’d weigh in with my personal hopes—and fears—regarding the film.
Imagine Conan in Shadizar, meeting with a beautiful woman calling herself Fortuna who pays him to find Thuris, the man who kidnapped her younger sister. Conan accepts the woman’s coin but finds himself in the middle of double and triple crosses as Fortuna — known as Brigid the Bold in the underworld — seeks for the Falcon of Maltus along with her betrayed confederates, Jubliex Cairo, Wilmer the Younger, and Gutmar. 
As usual, the kind of stories I was reading and writing bled into the kind of games I was playing, and this took me down a path I did not expect. I ended cobbling together a system that was purpose built to play “sword noir.” In order to do that, I had to define the term.
It couldn’t have been easy for Novalyne Price Ellis to write One Who Walked Alone: Robert E. Howard the Final Years (Donald M. Grant Publisher, Inc., 1986). Price Ellis’ memoir of her relationship with Howard (roughly 1934-36) is illuminating in its raw honesty. It’s also painful, at turns disappointing and downright frustrating. We might find escape in Howard’s sword and sorcery tales but there is none to be found here.
