by Ben Bussey
As I think we’ve established by now, the 80s were a boom period for the sword and sorcery genre; indeed, in a way it’s hard to think of the genre existing before that time. But obviously that’s not the case. Tales of gallant knights or otherwise courageous swordsmen doing battle with hissable villains, often with a touch of that old black magic involved, are as old as the written word; and such tales had invariably made their way onto the screen long before Conan the Barbarian showed up. I think what makes the 80s stand apart from that which came before – and most of what has come since – is that they demonstrated that stories like this aren’t just kids’ stuff. The 80s sword and sorcery films took those epic, fantastical, life-or-death adventures and really emphasised the life-or-death element. The tough guys were really tough, and the bad guys were really bad, and they didn’t shy away from showing what happens when a broadsword strikes a body, or what happens when a rugged hero hooks up with a swooning maiden.
Or, to consider the matter in more practical terms: 80s sword and sorcery crafted a formula for popular films which could be made relatively inexpensively and allowed scope for plenty of perverse and gory goings-on. Someone had to take it to the logical extreme; and when you think of it like that, it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that Lucio Fulci would try the genre on for size.
For better or worse, Conquest can most definitely be said to stand apart in the body of fantasy cinema, for few, if any films have taken such a prosaic set-up for a sword-swinging adventure and produced something so surreal, excessive and unpleasant. But once again, this is Fulci we’re talking about; surrealism, excess and unpleasantness are part and parcel. While it may be an entry in a genre he had not previously worked in and would not revisit, Fulci’s unmistakable claw marks are all over Conquest; like all his most notable works, it’s an extreme film which will inevitably inspire extreme reactions. For one such as myself who appreciates why Fulci is popular but has never quite been on board, Conquest is an unusual viewing experience, as infuriating as it is delightful; but, perhaps most importantly, it is distinctive.
Again, like most Fulci films the plot is hardly the most important thing and does not bear much scrutiny, but what the hell: there’s a young archer named Ilius (Andrea Occhipinti, also in Fulci’s New York Ripper), who seems to be from some ethereal plane of existence, possibly even the land of the gods. Seeking some kind of coming of age/ journey into manhood experience, he enters a particularly messed-up section of the mortal realm, where the cave-dwelling common folk are at the mercy of the evil sorceress Ohkren (Sabrina Siani, credited here as Sabrina Sellers). Ohkren claims to control the rising and setting of the sun, and as such insists that the land would perish without her. This, it seems, is how she justifies sending her army of werewolves to wreak her sadistic wrath on the commoners as of when she feels like it; this includes a spot of cannibalism. Oh, and did I mention that aside from a solid gold mask, a spangly G-string, a big snake and a layer of baby oil, Ohkren is stark bollock naked at all times?
After a suitably gruesome appetiser (and boy is it gruesome), Ohkren goes off into some sort of drug induced trance and has a vision of a man that might be the cause of her doom; an archer, equipped with a magic bow that fires arrows of pure light. Not being too keen on the idea of being killed by a laser beam arrow, she sends out the wolfmen (well, frankly they look more like shaggy dogs) to find the man in question and snuff him. Fitting the description, our young hero Ilius soon finds himself under attack, outnumbered and up shit creek, until help unexpectedly arrives in the sturdy form of Mace (Jorge Rivero), a lone barbarian sporting what seems to be a Flintstones-ish variation on nunchucks. The seasoned warrior and the young wannabe team up, and obviously a confrontation with the big bad Ohkren is in the cards.
Yes, you could take the bare bones of that premise, downplay the druggy cannibal stuff and slap a dress (or at the very least a bra) on Ohkren, and the resulting film could easily have been prime-time family viewing. But, as well we know, that ain’t how Fulci rolls… so on with the splattering heads, torn limbs and spilled guts. By Fulci standards it’s hardly his nastiest work, but for the genre it’s quite the eye-opener. Likewise the sexualisation of the villainous Ohkren; sure, many other sword and sorcery movies boasted plentiful female nudity (take The Warrior and the Sorceress, in which Maria Sorcas is bare-chested for the duration), but here it feels like every other scene features Ohkren writhing on the ground in narcotic/sexual ecstasy, with her oh-so-symbolic snake slithering all over her very-nearly nude form. Given that her unabashed hedonism goes hand in hand with her villainy, by contrast with the honourable bond that forms between Mace and Ilius, and it’s not hard to read a misogynistic and/or homoerotic subtext into Conquest (female sexuality = evil, male bonding = good). However, it’s even easier to sit back in bemusement and wonder what was going on in the minds of all concerned while they made this oddity, not least at some of the astonishingly feeble special effects; as if the piss-poor werewolf make-up wasn’t enough, just look at what they try to pass off as arrows.
With its weird, soft-focus cinematography and a typically throbbing synth score from Claudio Simonetti, Conquest is custom-made midnight movie material, designed to have that hazy dreamlike quality of the intoxicated or otherwise semi-conscious. It’s probably best viewed in that state; in the cold light of day, it may well wind up looking a wee bit silly. But hey, don’t we all…