I missed out on the whole He-Man craze as a child. I only had one He-Man action figure, and for some reason, it was Beastman. I did however, own every known Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure, including such obscure and irrelevant characters as Mondo Gecko. Perhaps that explains the connection I recall feeling as a child watching the TMNT movies and, consequently, the disconnect I experienced watching Masters of the Universe as an adult. I suspect that if I were to return to the Turtles movies I would feel nostalgic. With Masters of the Universe, the nostalgia wasn’t there; just the sickening feeling that I had seen this film before… when it was called Star Wars.
The music is highly derivative of John Williams, with its brassy flourishes and martial rhythm. In fact, one of the motifs running throughout the film is quite near a note-for-note ripoff of the Superman movie theme. But the John Williams score isn’t the only aspect lifted from Star Wars. Skeletor’s henchman look vaguely like Stormtroopers crossed with Nazi SS officers. He-Man’s dwarf sidekick has Yoda-like tendencies and the bounty hunters sent to destroy He-Man all resemble the various bounty hunters hunting Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back.
Beyond its blatant theft from other, far superior movies, Masters of the Universe contains a multitude of confounding scenarios. It marks the first time multiple people have confused a time traveling device (that looks kind of like the Powerglove, by the way) with a Japanese synthesizer. The city in which most of the action takes place somehow finds its residents sleeping soundly through a full-scale interplanetary invasion by Skeletor’s troops that attracts the attention of only one detective on the entire police force – and even he remains somewhat skeptical of what’s happening, despite being a participant in much of the action. Dolph Lundgren, the nominal star of the film, enjoys a mere half-hour of screen time, perhaps explaining why the film is called Masters of the Universe and not He-Man: Master of the Universe. And finally, the film contains far too many improbable and unnecessary uses of a grappling hook.
When I saw the film there was a lot of grousing among those in attendance about the character of Gwildor, who apparently wasn’t an actual character in the cartoon. Again, my unfamiliarity with the television show prevented me from knowing this (or caring about it), but apparently Gwildor was meant as a substitute for the character of Orko who was excluded from the film because, according to director, it would have been too difficult to shoot a levitating character. Considering he manages to include a scene in which the stormtroopers, er, Skeletor’s henchmen chase He-Man on flying surfboards, I contest that director Gary Goddard (no relation to Jean-Luc Godard) just wasn’t putting enough heart into his endeavor. If he wanted a levitating troll, he should have demanded one. Hell, Billy Barty (of Willow, Legend and just about any movie that required an elf, dwarf, etc. with mystic powers fame) probably already possessed levitation abilities. He just kept it a secret from Gary given the arduous and, arguably, unlawful conditions he had to endure during the shoot (see: director’s commentary on the film). That, or the fact that the studio shut down production early crushed Mr. Goddard’s spirit; the spirit and vision, that is, that compelled him to make a live-action version of He-Man. I guess that constitutes passion, right?
The film marks a career low for Frank Langella, who plays Skeletor behind a mountain of makeup, causing one to wonder why a director bothers to secure a moderate star for a film, then hide their face from view. If the rumors are true, I hope Brad Pitt takes a long, hard look at this film and reflects upon it for at least a week before he even considers accepting the role of He-Man in the upcoming remake. It could very well mark a nadir in his career as well.
