Ten Deep 04.22.09: The Films Based on the Works of Robert E. Howard *

Posted by Lucas Huddleston on 04.22.2009

This week, 411's Lucas Huddleston takes a look at one of America's greatest Fantasy writers...ever. People without loincloths need not apply.

Hello, and welcome to Ten Deep: Week 28! Much as when I covered The Adaptations of Alan Moore, this column is extremely lengthy, so, I apologize, but there's no room for addressing comments this time out. I hope you brought your readin' spectacles..

THE FILMS BASED ON THE WORKS OF ROBERT E. HOWARD

Remember when I said a couple of weeks back during the column on My Own Personal Favorite Childhood Cartoons that I was going through a bit of a period of reflection? Well, this week's column is directly stemmed from said reflection. As I was thinking about the beloved cartoons of my youth and jotting down my thoughts on them, I (obviously…if you read it) had to think about my thoughts and feelings on the Conan the Adventurer animated series of the mid-90's. As it turned out, I began to think back on that particular show moreso than any other show that appeared on that list, and, wanting to watch an episode of the cartoon but not having any to watch, I turned to first three volumes of Dark Horse's Chronicles of Conan, which is a line of trades that collect the entire run of Marvel's old Conan the Barbarian comics with ‘remastered' coloring (volumes one through three essentially collect the first twenty-something issues of the comic series). I read through those trades in a couple of days, which then prompted me to go digging through various random boxes in an attempt to unearth what issues I could find of both the old Conan the Barbarian comics as well as the Savage Sword of Conan magazine-style comics that I'd received in my youth. Amazingly enough, my friend Guyburns sent me a text a few days after that, a text which told me that he and his son were watching that 1982 classic Conan the Barbarian, which was a fairly odd coincidence, considering that I'd been having Howard on the brain for about a week at the time. That, in turn, prompted me to go back and re-watch the two Arnold films, which led to me re-watching the Brigitte Nielsen film, then on to the Kevin Sorbo film…and so, long story short, I figured that the only way to rectify my sudden extreme re-interest in Robert E. Howard was to base a column around him.


Robert Ervin Howard
1906-1936

Since we're all intelligent people here, I'm sure that it can be easily deduced from the above picture (particularly from the caption placed strategically below it) that the man in said picture is one Robert E. Howard; what cannot possibly be deduced from the above picture is that the man featured above is my literary hero, above all others…though not necessarily because of his work. Now, it's been well-documented in this column in the past about how the greater work of J.R.R. Tolkien (particularly that presented in The Silmarillion) affected me in profound ways when I first discovered it, opening my eyes to just how a story could be viewed – infinite, and not restricted. That honor shall always be Tolkien's, as his writing was the first to affect me in such a way, and that honor can never be granted upon another. However, outside of our mutual love/respect for Fantasy and History (Tolkien was also quoted as saying that he ‘rather liked those Conan stories'), I'm skeptical of just how much Tolkien and I would have in common; in my eyes, Tolkien seems to be of a vast intellect (perhaps even damn near a genius…I mean, Good Lord, he created an actual working language for his books! A language that people actually learn and speak!), a very refined and proper English gentleman, and, of course, a scholar beyond reproach (he was a professor at Oxford, after all). I'm afraid that, in the presence of Tolkien, I would probably come across as a schmuck. Howard, now…Howard is a different story all together.

Howard wanted to be writer since he was a young boy; I've wanted that to be my profession since I was a boy, as well. Howard never traveled the world, instead relying on stories to present to him the exotic locales that stoked his imagination, locales that he longed to see; I'm much the same, as I've rarely left the confines of Mid-Missouri (which is why I fell in love with the Bond films as a kid – for the locales that were presented). Howard found it hard to relate to other people, particularly those people that were to be found in his immediate area; I've often found it hard to relate to other people, particularly those in my immediate area. Howard came from a small, red-dirt town, and made it as a full-time writer; I…haven't really done that yet, though I'd like to. Howard often dealt with begrudging remarks made by people in his small town, people whose only idea of ‘work' was blue-collar labor, people who couldn't understand how sitting in front of a typewriter and dreaming up make-believe stories could be considered as a job; I've dealt with much the same thing, having heard that the idea of me being a writer was a ‘pipe-dream' and that I should learn a trade instead of ‘day-dreamin'' my life away. Howard, a chronic depressive, dealt with long periods of depression most of his life; while I'm not chronic, I, too, have dealt with a number of periods of severe depression, most notably after I dropped out of college. Howard was close to his mother, and I to mine. When I look at Howard's life, I see mine, almost as if it were being reflected in a darkened mirror. As such, I feel a certain bond, a certain kinship (as much a kinship as a man born in 1981 can feel towards another that passed away in 1936), and that's something that I truly don't feel with any other writer that I idolize or look up to. Howard, in my opinion, is in a class of his own.

Howard was perhaps the most prolific writer of his time, pushing out stories that covered numerous genres. While Howard's name has gone on to primarily become as synonymous with the Fantasy genre as that of J.R.R. Tolkien himself (Howard is often referred to as the Father of Sword-and-Sorcery), and while his best known work remains to be that of the Fantasy/Adventure ilk, it should be noted to those that aren't aware that a great deal of Howard's work was devoted not merely to the realms of Fantasy, but ran the breadth of a rather diverse spread of various genres that Howard dabbled in from time to time, such as Historical Fiction, Detective Fiction, Sports Fiction, Poetry, Science Fiction, Westerns, and, of course, Horror. He wasn't the most eloquent writer out there, yet he had a raw and straightforward style that applied itself wonderfully to the types of stories he wrote, to the heroes he created. As I said, he was good enough to come from the middle of nowhere and make a career of it, making such an impression on his fellow pulp writer (and future idol himself) H.P. Lovecraft that Lovecraft and Howard became fast friends through correspondence, writing in a shared fictional universe called the Cthulu Mythos with other members of the ‘Lovecraft Circle', despite never having met face-to-face (Howard claimed that Lovecraft was one of his primary influences, and Lovecraft likewise). However, Howard didn't see that way; in fact, Howard held a fairly bleak outlook on the world and life in general. He viewed himself as being a failure, often cryptically suggesting to others close to him that self-destruction was a more-than-credible means of death. As such, on June 11th, 1936, almost immediately after learning that his mother had slipped into a coma from whence she would never return, Howard walked out of his parents' house (Howard lived with his parents his whole life, as a means to care for his terminally ill mother and provide for her through the money he made writing for the pulp magazines of the time), got in his car where a handgun sat in wait, and took his own life. A month before Howard committed suicide, he wrote this in a letter to contemporary and fellow Lovecraft Circle member August Derleth…

"Death to the old is inevitable, and yet somehow I often feel that it is a greater tragedy than death to the young. When a man dies young he misses much suffering, but the old have only life as a possession and somehow to me the tearing of a pitiful remnant from weak fingers is more tragic than the looting of a life in its full, rich prime. I don't want to live to be old. I want to die when my time comes, quickly and suddenly, in the full tide of my strength and health."

Obviously, Howard seemed to have planned for his death in the eventually passing of his mother, and I've read some reports that claimed the Howard stated numerous times that if his mother wasn't still alive in his twenties, he would have killed himself then; he just didn't want to put any more worry on his mother by his suicide. Of course, since his death, many people have attempted to analyze the reasons as to why Howard would do such a thing, considering that only a few short years before his death Howard had created his most popular (and eventually profitable) character in Conan. Some of the analysis that ‘experts' and the like have done seemingly only stand to disgrace the memory of one of America's all-time greatest writers, as some attribute his suicide to an ‘Oedipal complex' (an unhealthy/unnatural affection towards his mother), and others claim that Howard did it in despondency over not only the death of his mother, but by the departure of his true soul-mate, Novalyne Price. I, however, put no stock in such things, as it's quite clear that Howard had planned on killing himself eventually years before. If Miss Price had still been in Cross Plains, Texas, and still with Howard, the day that his mother died…I think Howard would have still killed himself. There was no stopping it, in my opinion.

I'm not sure just how popular/obscure Howard was in his own time, but I doubt that he was as recognized as more mainstream writers of the time, such as F. Scott Fitzgerald. However, eventually, Howard's work would indeed that certain level of mainstream success, beginning with the efforts of pastiche writers – pastiche in this sense meaning writers who have contributed to (or imitated) Howard's works since his death – L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter (who found means to republish Howard's work, and, controversially, re-edit some of the original stories and completing what story fragments Howard had left). The popularity of the character of Conan (and, perhaps, Howard), however, truly took off when Marvel Comics commissioned writer Roy Thomas (perhaps the most prolific of the pastiche writers – though the best known would probably be Robert Jordan – as I do indeed consider him to be as such, despite being ‘only' a comic book writer…a writer is a writer) to obtain permission to utilize the character in an ongoing comic series (although Conan wasn't the first on Thomas' list to get…but that's neither here nor there). Ultimately, the Marvel Conan books (‘Conan the Barbarian' and ‘The Savage Sword of Conan') became some of the most recognized and popular of the 1970's, particularly ‘Savage Sword', which opened the doors for a whole new slew of people being herded to discover Robert E. Howard and his work, and, no doubt, the popularity of the comics had direct affect on Conan the Barbarian being made into a film. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Conan the Barbarian (1982)



As I've said before about the character of Conan (as well as about several other things that have shown up on this list), I'm not really all that sure of the first time and place that I was introduced to the character; I've always just known of the character's existence, who also stands as being one of my very favorite Fantasy characters of all-time. I honestly doubt I first encountered Conan through Robert E. Howard's original short stories, as I didn't read any of them until I was nearly into my twenties, when my dad bequeathed to me his old Ace collection (you know, the ones with the awesome Frank Frazzetta paintings for the cover artwork). It couldn't have been through the early-90's animated television series, as the presence of Conan is what attracted me to the series in the first place. It could've been through the comic books, or it could've been through the film Conan the Destroyer, the sequel to this film that, as a kid, I honestly preferred over this film. Indeed, if I'm being truthful here, I wasn't really all that in love with this film when I was a young boy. As it pertains to the sequel, in those days I was more attracted to the high energy and cartoonish adventure of Destroyer, much more so than I was to the darker, more brooding approach of Conan the Barbarian…and so it should go without saying that I watched the sequel more than I did this movie when I was younger. It wasn't until I was in my teenage years that I received both films on VHS for one Christmas (a considerable update, since before that we owned both films, taped off, on one tape…and both were taped off with a considerable amount of poor quality intact…and, in the case of Barbarian quite a bit of the bare breast factor had been edited out), that I essentially ‘rediscovered' Conan the Barbarian, and I went about re-watching the film with very little memory of the film from my childhood.

First and foremost, in regards to the film's relation to the stories written and mapped out by Robert E. Howard, the film is indeed loosely based on the source material (with a script written by Oliver Stone, which I always thought was…odd, particularly looking back on it in retrospect), though it's well worth mentioning that the film does indeed adapt a few scenes and situations straight from not only Howard's Conan work (Conan lashed to the Tree of Woe as in ‘A Witch Shall Be Born'), but also some of the pastiche work (such as ‘The Thing in the Crypt', where Conan gets his sword). Regardless, in the film, Conan is forced into slavery at a young age, after an attack by Thulsa Doom on his home village; in the writings, this never happened, as Conan actually plays a fairly instrumental part in his people's assault on the Aquilonian military outpost called Venarium. Thulsa Doom himself, as well as the shaping-changing snake-people from which he is descended, also don't play any part in the Conan stories; in fact, he's taken from the stories of Howard's other ‘barbarian' character, Kull. The character of Valeria in the film isn't all that similar to her literary counterpart…her film version is more akin to Belit, pirate queen of the Black Coast and Conan's one true love essentially, a character from REH's writings. There are other discrepancies, but, honestly, that doesn't bother me in the least, as much of the spirit and tone of the Conan stories are carried over greatly in the film. Howard's depictions of the Hyborian Age in which Conan tread beneath his sandaled feet wasn't portrayed as being a world like, say, Narnia, or with no place in Conan's time resembling the peace and quiet contentment of The Shire. It was a place that was rough, hard, a place not for the weak…and that image is well captured here. In this day and age, it's hard to imagine anybody but Arnold as Conan, and if any one actor has nearly become synonymous with the character that he's played, Schwarzenegger as Conan (or the Terminator) tops that list, in my opinion. James Earl Jones as the villain Thulsa Doom may look like he's out of place in a way, but his incredible speaking voice lends the character its greatest aspect, with his speech on the Riddle of Steel while Conan is bloodied and captured being one of the standout scenes for me. He casts as a great villain, whose ancient intellect and powerful charisma stand as the perfect foil for the brawn and blade of Conan. Many of the other roles in the film were given to relatively inexperienced talent, whether they were football players, other bodybuilders, dancers, or surfers…and, almost amazingly, it works really well. Despite the failure that would seem to be obvious on the part of the untested supporting actors, there really is no bad acting in the film. In the end, what set this apart from the many imitators that it spawned in the wake of its release, Conan the Barbarian was a far more layered film, both thematically and through characterization, than it had any right to be. It stands as a perfect example of a film that had a strong chance to be next to nothing, and yet was crafted as an unknowing classic.

Conan the Barbarian was, of course, a complete success, earning back double (if not more) of it's fairly substantial budget of twenty million dollars. It's a film that has undoubtedly stood the test of time, and, same now as it was then, unquestionably continues to draw new audiences in search of the works of the man who created the famous barbarian…or, at least, gets his name out there. In the early 1980's, this film no doubt put Conan's name out there as well as Howard's (and Schwarzenegger's) for all of popular culture to see and praise…but does it still garner praise from the REH purists (which, if you don't know, REH purists are some of the most frothingly blood-thirsty purists ever…which is suitable, given that their obsession IS Robert E. Howard's work)? As I said earlier, when it all comes down to it, the Conan that's depicted in this film really isn't the Conan from the stories; the character here stands as being more of an ‘alternate universe'-type of take on the character. For example, for the first twenty or so years of his life in this film (it's not all that specific), Conan lives his life as a slave, cowing down to his masters without hesitation…and is content make do with his life in such a fashion, as it's simply what his life has been for so long (plus, I'm sure he feels it's better to cow down than to push the Wheel of Pain for another twenty years). The character that Howard created, however, would rather die than do such a thing…but, then again, Howard's Conan didn't spend much of his formative years tethered to a massive mill. Ultimately, I believe that REH himself would rather enjoy Conan the Barbarian, though he might take the approach of, "I'd like it if I didn't write it."

Conan the Destroyer (1984)



Of course, given the success of Conan the Barbarian, a sequel was given the green-light as soon as was possible. While a few of the aspects of the first film had indeed diverged from Howard's works, mainly in terms of the presentation of certain characters and their histories (i.e. Conan himself), on the whole the movie was true to Howard in perhaps the most important aspect of all – its tone and atmosphere. The John Milius directed masterpiece had left us with a world of mysticism and mystery, a world of savagery and danger, a world dark and mature and one that could have easily set the stage for a great series of brooding, adult Fantasy films. However, it appeared that such a world in the realms of Fantasy cinema just couldn't survive without the hands of either (or both) John Milius or Oliver Stone upon it, even if such a world is demanded of being brooding and adult by the source material…as, despite the table being so grandly set by Milius and company, Conan the Destroyer's tone and atmosphere seemed hardly concerned with such pithy things as ‘mysticism', ‘mystery', ‘savagery', ‘danger', ‘dark', ‘mature', ‘brooding', or ‘adult'. And it's a shame too, as one could believe, and put a healthy amount of conviction in the assumption, that due to the weaker critical and commercial response to Conan the Destroyer (in comparison to Conan the Barbarian), the studio became reluctant to produce a third Conan film. Basically, Conan the Destroyer may have (MAY have) killed the franchise. But I still like it all the same; after all, when I was a child, I much preferred the heroic adventure-laden story and happenings that Destroyer spun, as opposed to the glum, personal-revenge story that was told during Barbarian.

But therein lies the very problem with Destroyer, isn't it? It's obvious now as much as it was then that Conan the Destroyer was purposely fashioned to be much more ‘kid-friendly' fare than the first film; I'm sure that, given the rise in popularity that Fantasy-related/themed products saw in the late-70's and early-80's, especially in the ‘cash-cow' demographic of children, Universal Studios and producer Dino De Laurentiis cursed themselves for Conan the Barbarian being saddled with a hard ‘R' rating (due to the graphic violence and sex scenes…such as the orgy), as such a rating hindered the film from making even MORE money from the Fantasy-hungry child-markets. So it was that when scheduling conflicts arose that prohibited John Milius and his unrelentingly brutal vision for the world of Conan from returning for the second film, De Laurentiis brought in Richard Fleischer to direct, the reasons of which, I'd presume, had something to do with Fleischer's having directed various children's film classics, such as 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Dr. Dolittle (though he had directed more mature films before as well). What's more is that Roy Thomas and Gerry Conway was hired to deliver a story treatment for the film, and for those that don't know, both were comic book writers of the time, with Roy Thomas was the main writer for the Conan comics during much of its life and many different iterations when the license rested in Marvel's hands (Conway is credited with creating the Punisher). I'm sure that, once graced with the presence of a director that had previously directed a Disney classic as well as that of a comic book writer (after all, them kids love their comic books), Universal might have had visions of the money just rolling in from the kids.

And a kids movie is basically what they got, and though several prefer to lay blame at the feet of Fleischer or Thomas for what Conan the Destroyer became, I will say that, to their credit: the original cut of the film that Fleischer delivered was indeed given an ‘R' rating, which led to the film getting various cuts and edits to achieve that much sought after ‘PG' rating (though I've never seen – or heard of anywhere TO see – this film in its original, uncut version); and Roy Thomas and Gerry Conway were so unhappy with what their treatment had become in the hands of the writer that handled translating the treatment to script, that Thomas and Conway wrote and released a graphic novel titled ‘Conan: The Horn of Azoth' that presented their original vision for what they felt the film should have been (changing names of the other characters for copyright reasons, I'd presume). However, without laying the blame on anyone specifically, the main problem with the film (and one that will be a running theme from here on out…) is that, ultimately, it's nothing like what Robert E. Howard presented in those old Conan short stories from years gone by, which, at the very least, the first film tried to stay true to in tone and atmosphere.

What's so infuriating about Conan the Destroyer is that it SHOULD have been a step forward, or, at the VERY least, match the first film step-for-step, tone and atmosphere. And yet, even after the first film proved to the film industry that Sword-and-Sorcery films can indeed be respectable and not low-grade clap-trap and did it all with utilizing the most iconic character from the stable of the Father of the genre, the minds behind this film decided to take a step backwards, effectively lowering this film to the standards set the laughable imitators that had been gleaned from the success of Conan the Barbarian. Such a move seems to have left a horrid scar on the film franchises based on Howard's Fantasy work, scars that have carried on past this particular film (as we'll soon see…). The first film managed to be funny on its own when it could afford to be, without being unintentional and/or forced, and without having to create one specific character that only exists for ‘comedy relief'. Not the imitators; no, the imitators HAD the unintentional laughs, the forced comedy, and the specific comedy relief (that usually wasn't all that funny). So did Conan the Destroyer. Conan the Barbarian put forth a villain that was largely atypical for the Sword-and-Sorcery film genre; Thulsa-Doom, as played by the great James Earl Jones, was an intelligent and charismatic villain that WASN'T an insane, over-the-top caricature that was the more typical type of villain that was splayed across the genre. Thulsa-Doom served to attract you, draw you in – not repel you. Not so for the imitators, and not so Conan the Destroyer. The first film had a director that could take a group of largely inexperienced actors, put them in featured roles in a major motion picture, and make them work (think Sandahl Berman, Ben Davidson, Gerry Lopez, and Sven-Ole Thorson); the second film had a director that couldn't do the same, and as such, ended up with a film that had not the serious performances of the first, but cheesily delivered lines and awkward poses (think Grace Jones, Wilt Chamberlain, and Olivia D'Abo…and it should also be noted that Andre the Giant had an uncredited role as, you guessed it, the big freakin' monster at the end of the movie).

Obviously, the film was a fairly substantial letdown, considering what it was birthed from. But that doesn't mean that I hate it – even now I do indeed have a certain amount of love towards it (albeit the crazy kind of love). As I said, when I was a child, I loved the movie, and much preferred it over the more brooding original, as the film did indeed deliver on the promise that Mako made in the opening credits of ‘telling a tale of High Adventure'. Even at the time, while the film wasn't the success that the first movie happened to be, Conan the Destroyer was by no means a flop at the box-office, and I daresay it also found a fair amount of success on subsequent home-video releases, as well (I know I own it on both VHS and DVD). However, as I grew older, I just came to the realization of what it did wrong, and to what it COULD have been…which makes the road that the film chose to go down rather unfortunate. Of course, it was still largely a success, and successful enough to coerce De Laurentiis, Fleischer, Schwarzenegger, and even Bergman to go to the well once more, in a way…dammit.

Red Sonja (1985)



This may still come as news to some, but, for one reason in particular, I wasn't planning on including the film Red Sonja among the major film ‘adaptations' of Howard's work…and that reason is simply that, despite what many may think due to her association with Conan, Robert E. Howard DIDN'T create the character. Roy Thomas and Barry Windsor-Smith did, early on in their run on Marvel's old ‘Conan the Barbarian' comics, in Issue #23 in 1973, nearly forty years after Howard's death…though, it should be stated that Howard did indeed create a somewhat similar character. You see, originally, in a short story titled ‘The Shadow of the Vulture', Howard wrote about a female heroine called Red Sonya of Rogatino (Sonya with a ‘y'), a 16th Century swashbuckling-type that did indeed have the red hair and fiery disposition that the later Thomas/Windsor-Smith Red Sonja character (Sonja with a ‘j') would take on; however, Howard's original Sonya was a pistol-slinging and a (somewhat) irrelevant character in the broad schemes of Howard's work, and had no ties to the Hyborian Age of Conan…nor was the short story even a work of Fantasy, but rather a Historical Fiction adventure tale. In short, Howard's Red Sonya was in no way, shape, or form connected to his Conan yarns…especially not in the form of an armored bikini-clad ‘she-devil with a sword' that the majority of people know her as being.

So, how then – and why – did Marvel Comics' Conan writer Roy Thomas successfully transpose an entirely unrelated character into the world of the world's most famous barbarian, a move that has proven so successful enough to the point that a majority of people have essentially come to accept the character as being eternally linked to REH himself, despite the fact that the image that that same majority of people view the character as being came not from Howard, but from Thomas and company? Well, during Marvel Comics long run with the titles ‘Conan the Barbarian' and ‘The Savage Sword of Conan' (among others that came later, though those two titles stand as being the seminal Conan works in the history of comic books), Roy Thomas totally and completely ensconced himself in Howard, his own works, and many of the pastiche works that followed after Howard's death; as such, Thomas was reading not only the Conan stories that were published in Howard's time, but also many of the Conan works that weren't published until years after the writer's death (including many of the fragments, such as ‘The Hand of Nergal'), many of the pastiche works, and many of the non-Conan Howard-tales. As such, Thomas would come to not simply pen his own original Conan tales as well as adapt the accepted Howard Conan yarns into comics form, but he was also prone to adapt the pastiche works (by the likes of de Camp and Carter), as well as many of those tales that Howard wrote that had no bearing in the Hyborian Age…including ‘The Shadow of the Vulture'. Being as such, Thomas took that same Red Sonya story, displaced the heroine and her setting to fit within Conan's Hyborian Age, replaced her guns with swords, slid Conan himself into the story, changed the ‘y' in Sonya to a ‘j', and, voila, Red Sonja was given birth in the capacity that a majority of people acknowledge her as being…well, kind of. You see, when Barry Windsor-Smith, Sonja's co-creator, first illustrated her (being the co-creator because he was the first to, in fact, draw the character, in case you don't know how co-creating works in comics), he drew her as having a long-sleeved shirt of chain-mail (or something of the like), some short red pants, and knee-high boots…in other words, the character was still missing that one key ingredient – she wasn't showing enough skin. As such, according to Roy Thomas, a Spanish artist named Esteban Maroto sent him an illustration of the heroine wearing what would become her now-legendary ‘bikini armor', and Thomas, who was the editor at the time of ‘The Savage Sword of Conan', reprinted the image in the first issue of that series. The image of the ‘redesigned' Red Sonja would prove extremely popular (as if there cold have been any other response from the mainly male readership of that book), and from that point forward, the name Red Sonja would become unquestionably as synonymous with her bikini armor, as much as the character's existence itself would go on to become as synonymous with Conan's.

At any rate, all that was a round-about way of relating that the Red Sonja that we all know and love basically has ZERO ties to Robert E. Howard and his works, with the lone exception in superficiality. So why, then, would one count the film Red Sonja amongst the other films that have been created and based on the works of Howard, as I'm sure the Howard purist will cry out? Well, it's a fairly simple question with a fairly simple answer: while Howard may not have truly created the character of Red Sonja, she has since become solidly intertwined within the tales and world of Conan…and thus, by proxy, the tales and world of Howard himself (for better or for worse), to the point that, as I said before, a large number of people believe that REH created her as she is. As such, I feel that I might as well cover it…and besides, when will ever get the chance to talk about all this again?

Although, I suppose one could also count the film as being a Howard-related film by way of the film supposedly beginning its life as the oft-maligned, and never realized, third Conan picture in the ‘Arnold series' (I swear that third movie is the film equivalent of ‘Smile'…though I don't think it ever drove anyone crazy). But, then again, whether or not Red Sonja was ever intended to be Conan III (or Conan the King, I'd gather) is all kind of up in the air, as I've happened upon readings numerous times in my life that stated that the movie was indeed supposed to be said Conan film…while, by that same token, I've happened upon OTHER readings that claimed that Red Sonja was NEVER in line to be the third Conan film, but only feature the famous barbarian in a supporting role (if that). The only thing that comes to mind when I try to reason why there seems to be so much confusion on the subject is that, honestly, I don't think anybody really gives a damn as to whether it was or not. They just can't be bothered to care. Regardless of all that, I DO indeed know that, if the film truly wasn't intended to be a third Conan movie, the minds behind the film did indeed appear to be inclined as to seemingly tie Red Sonja into the two previous Conan films in any way that they could muster, perhaps for the reasons of presenting the audience with something familiar, at best (but if it's that, why not just do Conan the King?). Originally, producer Dino De Laurentiis had offered the role of Red Sonja to none other than Sandahl Bergman, who, I'm sure you've guessed, was the one and the same who played the character of Valeria in the film Conan the Barbarian, while, at the same time apparently (though I'm not for certain), Arnold was being brought back to due contractual obligations to return to the role of…Conan? As I said, I'm not for certain as to whether or not Arnold WAS indeed being recast as the fantasy hero, but if he was indeed, and if Bergman was indeed being sought after to play the part of Red Sonja…that would have just been a bit confusing, I think. Again, if that was indeed the case, why not just have Bergman reprise her role as Valeria and do the third Conan film? However, all was well, as Bergman opted to take on the part of the villainous lesbian Queen Gedren instead, leaving Universal to find another woman ‘Amazonian' enough for the role of Sonja. Having been left with a Red Sonja film without a Red Sonja, producer De Laurentiis searched for almost a year for a new Sonja, before finally happening upon a photo spread of Danish model Brigitte Nielsen, future famous ‘star-you-know-what-er' (rhymes with Smucker…yes, as in the jelly, shortly before production began on the film. One short plane trip to Rome later (the film was shot in Italy), Nielsen had a job, and everything was set…except for Conan, of which the rights to the character had been pulled by the owners of the estate. Apparently, it was no ‘biggie', as after one quick re-edit on the name of Arnold's character, Conan became Kalidor, but, really, was still basically Conan for all intents and purposes.

If Conan the Barbarian stands as being the pinnacle of the Sword-and-Sorcery sub-genre of Fantasy films and if Conan the Destroyer represents the minds behind the Howard film licenses taking a step in the wrong direction of relegating their great property into being derivitive of lesser quality work, the Red Sonja is that proverbial final leap into the abyss, finally doing what only the daft would dare by taking the ideas associated with the Father of Sword-and-Sorcery Fantasy and putting it on par with the likes of The Beastmaster, Hawk the Slayer, and Deathstalker (okay, so it's not as bad as Deathstalker, but you catch my drift, I'm sure). I really don't even know where to begin when it comes to crapping all over this film, as there's just so many places to provide the initial fling…so it'd probably be far easier to cover the positive points. Sandahl Berman turns in a nicely over-the-top, cheesy performance as the evil lesbian queen, which earns her the ‘performance of the movie' award. Ernie Reyes, Jr., despite being around ten years old, shows off his martial-arts skills, and easily provides the best swordplay to be found in the movie. Most of the landscape that the movie was shot in looked beautiful, with some nice cinematography in parts, and the music by Ennio Morricone, whose previous credits include The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is decent.

Everything else, though…eh, not so good. By this time, Arnold had discovered true celebrity and success through his role in James Cameron's The Terminator, and I'd assume that since he was forced to partake in this film due to contractual obligations after finding his first truly breakthrough role, he wasn't very enthused with returning to this style of film. And I believe that such a supposition would be correct, as Arnold more-or-less sleepwalks through proceedings here, really providing very little of note when all's said and done. Arnold didn't even wish to have top billing for the movie's promotion, and, considering that he'd just really broken into the mainstream and was getting his name truly out there, one would wonder WHY he wouldn't want top billing; my guess would be that he wanted to distance himself from the movie as much as possible. Nielsen does an okay job as the titular heroine and physically looks good in her portrayal, but, still, her acting is particularly wooden and stolid, though that's more than likely attributed to her inexperience at the time (right?). Reyes, in the role of spoiled Prince Tarn, may indeed provide one of the highlights of Red Sonja, but at the same time he ‘entertains' us with what is undoubtedly one of the most annoying and grating characters ever committed to film. I'd suppose that he was originally intended be comedy relief for the movie; to be more specific, I believe that he was supposed to be this picture's Short Round, created and cast to illicit nice, fuzzy memories from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom that was released the year before. Unfortunately, whereas Short Round was an endearing character, Prince Tarn isn't, as who here loves kids that speak to you condescendingly or throw fits over everything? Probably very few.

What's more, Tarn has a right-hand man called Falkon, whose weapon of choice is a gigantic bone. Why? I understand that the rule of Fantasy is basically ‘just accept it', but that's one question that I've always wanted answered – why a bone? Obviously, he comes from a region whose people are no strangers to metallurgy, as proven by his prince Tarn brandishing a sword. Did he slay some monstrous creature with his bare hands, then rip out its femur to use as a weapon in honor of the good fight that the monster put up? Did his dog find it under the fence-row and bring it to him, while his neighbor was screaming in his ear, "Now they know that we know that they know that we know!"? Eh, who knows…or cares, besides me, obviously? Director Richard Fleischer, returning from the folds of Conan the Destroyer, is given to gaffes in this film that would belie his past glories from the 1950's and ‘60's. For example, there's one fight scene where Kalidor and Sonja are battling a group of goons; the camera sits up close and personal for most of the fight, catching the two heroes cutting down their foes as closely as possible. However, when the camera pulls back, there's no bodies to be found at the two heroic warriors' feet, as though their enemies were dispatched only to respawn at a different point in the movie. And there's more errors and just general crappiness where that came from, believe me (such as the robot snake-thing, which was horrible). Obviously, at the end of the day, it's easy to crap all over Red Sonja, but really no more or less than one can crap on any other Sword-and-Sorcery film that's not titled Conan the Barbarian. It's enjoyable enough for what it is – a low-grade Fantasy film – and it doesn't really profess, or even try, to be anything more than what it is. If you like those kind of films (and believe me, there are indeed…why else would I have purchased it on DVD?), then you'd find something worthwhile enough here, probably; I just like to crap on it. It's so easy.

Kull the Conqueror (1997)



Unlike the seemingly somewhat vague circumstances surrounding the Red Sonja film as to whether or not that particular film was ever initially intended to be the third Conan film in the ‘Arnold series', I CAN say with a steadfast degree of conviction that Kull the Conqueror WAS indeed originally planned to be Conan 3, as the writer for Kull, one Charles (Chuck) Edward Pogue, has given various lengthy interviews on the subject. It's almost fitting that a Conan film was altered for various reasons, with said alterings leading to the cinematic debut of the Kull character…for, if you didn't know, the very first Conan tale that Howard ever wrote and published (titled ‘The Phoenix on the Sword', and published in Weird Tales in 1932) was originally intended to be written as a Kull story (titled ‘By This Axe, I Rule'…which is one of the most awesome titles ever, in my opinion).

Now, allow to explain and expound a bit on that particular statement/fact, as it's not at all lost on me that, to the uninitiated, it could be deduced that the character of Conan was at the time of his creation a carbon-copy/mirror image of a previous Howard character that didn't work as well…which, of course, if one thinks THAT, then I'm sure, unfortunately, that one could very well also presume that: 1.), the character of Kull itself is largely inconsequential and/or worthless; and 2.), that Howard might not truly be all that imaginative. I'll readily admit that when I first came across the character of Kull, I, likewise, found it easy to dismiss it; when I was younger and first began to dive into the actual writings of Howard on Conan after my father gave me his collection of the old Ace books that collected both the Howard Conan tales and the non-Howard pastiche tales (written by the likes of L. Sprague DeCamp, Lin Carter, and others, and featuring the amazing cover art by Frank Frazetta), my dad also gave to me a Kull book, one that collected all of the Howard-penned Kull short-stories (and one, sadly, not featuring a Frazetta cover). By this time, I had indeed learned that, when it came to barbarian Fantasy tales, there was Conan, and then there was everything else, as I was steadily learning through film, comics, and books, that most other barbarian literature was almost completely derivative of Conan, but of a typically much, MUCH less quality. And so, not knowing any better, I lumped Kull into the latter group (‘everything else') without even bothering to open the book and read the stories, regardless if Howard's name was at the top of the book or not. I believe now that I was thoroughly justified in doing so at the time…justified when taking the two (Conan and Kull) at face value. As I'm writing this, I have that same old Kull book sitting in my lap, and this is what I read on the back cover that deflected any and all interest from me in my younger days…

On the throne of Valusia sits the dauntless king of barbarian days, Kull, savage outlaw, fierce gladiator, soldier, commander, and king of kings who dreamed of golden destiny. Now the dream has become reality, great Kull has slain the despotic King Borna, ripped the crown from his gory head, and mounted his throne as ruler of Valusia, land of dreams, mightiest of the seven empires.

Now, even though most of my Conan familiarity had, at that time, descended almost exclusively from the Marvel comics (though that's not necessarily a bad thing, as long-time Conan comics writer Roy Thomas stands as perhaps being the greatest of all the Conan pastiche writers), I did indeed recognize that once you had replaced the words ‘Valusia' with ‘Aquilonia', ‘Kull' with ‘Conan', and changed the name of the despotic rulers…well, then the above description on the back of the Kull book to describe the character's history in an extremely condensed manner would be identical to a same extreme truncated relation of the history of Conan's life. Conan was an outlaw, a soldier, a commander; Conan achieved his ‘golden destiny' of becoming a great lord of his own kingdom by slaying a tyrant with his own hands. In my eyes at the time, Kull seemed to equal Conan (as in, ‘Kull = Conan'), the two characters distinct from one another in name only…and really, could you blame me for thinking so at the time? Of course, that's merely comparing the two barbarian kings at face value – when one delves into the actual characters themselves, there are indeed differences to be uncovered.

Perhaps the best way for me to put forth a proper example of the standing intrinsic differences between the two characters would be to put forth a hypothetical situation concerning the two barbarian kings, and weigh the actions/thoughts of the two in said hypothetical. Imagine that Conan is traveling with a man; at one point after some nameless adventure, this certain man changes his form into that of a ‘snake-man', a human in form yet with reptilian features. Conan, given his extreme distaste and fear for all things supernatural, would perhaps freeze but for a moment in shock, before brandishing his sword and dispatching the thing as swiftly as he is able, and, when the deed is done, Conan would more than likely walk away from the sight, giving the dead body of the snake-man perhaps a few moments of thought before leaving the body in the past, cursing about him being much better off not knowing about such ‘supernatural' happenings as that. Conan's personality and what he does is always to the effect of being in the ‘act/react' vein of things…though that shouldn't be taken to mean that Conan isn't intelligent; quite the contrary, as Howard had indeed painted Conan on numerous occasions to be both clever and quick witted. However, Conan wouldn't have been one to contemplate on the deeper meanings of things. Kull, on the other hand, WOULD be one to contemplate such things. If Kull was placed in the aforementioned hypothetical situation, he would indeed take up his axe and cleave the thing in two…but, after he had done so, Kull would be more likely to ponder as to the origins of the creature, what it's plans had been, and/or why it had been accompanying him, among other things. Such is Kull's character; while no more or less intelligent than that of Conan, Kull was much more of a contemplative and reflective character, a man that would be just as given to sit on his throne and thoughtfully fritter away on the meaning of his existence as he would to be on the battlefield cutting a swathe through legions of foes.

That, of course, isn't the only difference between the two as Howard wrote them. Conan was much the loner in his stories, often beginning and ending REH's short stories alone and without accompaniment, and rarely – if ever – was there ever any reoccurring character's in those Howard-penned Conan yarns that spanned over more than one tale, save for Conan himself, of course (for example, I know that Conan's accepted ‘arch-nemesis' Thoth-Amon – perhaps only the accepted main villain due to Marvel Comics – appeared in ‘The Phoenix on the Sword', but never reappeared in any other Howard story, though he was name-dropped). Kull's stories, on the other hand, were often riddled with characters OTHER than the titular hero, such as: Brule the Spear-slayer, Kull's chief ally, and a Pict warrior; Tu, Kull's chief advisor as to the administrative portents of kinghood; Ka-Nu, a Pict ambassador, and others (as noted before, the villain Thulsa-Doom, who acted as Conan's nemesis in the film Conan the Barbarian was originally a Kull villain). Howard's Conan stories encompassed many different periods in the Cimmerian's life, and bounced around chronologically; some tales, such as ‘The Phoenix on the Sword' take place after Conan has ultimately ascended to the status of monarch, while others depict Conan in his days as a young thief, others as a pirate, still others as a military general…and so on and so forth. All of Howard's Kull stories, however, focus on the time AFTER Kull has become king. As well, it should be mentioned that the Kull stories take place in the same universe as the Conan stories (and perhaps ALL of the Howard works as well, as some would claim that all the Howard stories – as well as some of the Lovecraft stories – share the same universe), though the Kull stories, in the world that Howard created, pre-date the Conan stories by several thousand years; it's also worth noting that, while I don't believe that Howard himself ever explicitly said so, many people would tell you that Conan himself is a direct descendant of Kull – and it could be true, since the Cimmerians are descended from the Atlanteans.

At any rate, suffice it to say that, despite what one's first impressions on the superficial similarities between the two characters may be, Kull and Conan, both in character and in the way that Howard constructed their ‘yarns', are far more different than one would suppose. So, why then would REH take a Kull story and morph into a Conan story? The answer to that is a fairly easy one, and perhaps quite obvious when you think on it: Howard's Kull stories weren't selling. Howard may have been somewhat well-known in some certain circles (i.e. those who read magazines devoted to ‘weird fiction'), but he wasn't on the particular socially recognized level of someone like F. Scott Fitzgerald, and so, while I don't believe that Howard was penniless, I'd imagine that REH's livelihood rested in the importance of selling as many stories as he could as quickly as he could (thus the many different genres that the man dabbled in). Since the Kull stories were consistently being rejected by publishers, what would be the point of Howard continuing to write those stories? A rejected story didn't put money in his pocket or food on his table, after all. And so, Howard took the aforementioned once-rejected Kull yarn, ‘By This Axe, I Rule!', and reworked a bit of the backstory...dropped some of the periods of philosophical contemplation by King Kull…changed a few names here and there…and, voila – Conan, Howard's most iconic and enduring character, was born. All said, in his lifetime, Howard only saw TWO Kull stories published (‘The Shadow Kingdom' and ‘The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune', both published in 1929), while he wrote around a dozen stories featuring the character all in all, with a few of them being little more than fragments, all of which did indeed see publication for the first time nearly thirty years after Howard's suicide. The fact that the character of Kull has been able to survive after all these years after seeing only publication twice in the late-1920's is a testament to the strength of the character itself.

Which is why the film sucks. Or, at least, why Kull the Conqueror was a major let-down, as it could have been so much more than what it became. Let's just say that, like the two Howard-inspired films released before Kull (Conan the Destroyer and Red Sonja), the film's greatest failing is that it's really not all that Howard-esque…hell, it's not even Kull-esque, as the character that star Kevin Sorbo portrays isn't the character that REH dreamed up; instead, in this film, Kull has been reduced to being your basic, sword-and-sorcery barbarian-hero. Which is a shame considering that the character of Kull is the ANTITHESIS of your basic, sword-and-sorcery barbarian-hero. In an interview that I read with the film's writer Chuck Pogue (remember him, the guy I mentioned several pages ago?), Kull did indeed begin life as the third Conan film, with the studio having every intention on bringing Arnold back to reprise his role as Conan (this was happening in the early-to-mid 1990's). Of course, as we all know now, the studio was unable to bring Schwarzenegger in, and, as such, the studio was reluctant to do a Conan film without Arnold, who, admittedly, was (and still is, in many respects) at the time so firmly intertwined with mainstream perception of the character of Conan itself. As such, the film changed Howard licenses, and became a film about Kull. According to Pogue (who has been fairly outspoken about his disappointment in what Kull the Conqueror became), he delivered a script that, in its initial stages, attempted to remain as true to the character that Howard had created than any of the other three Howard-based films that had come before; however, after a falling out with the producer of the film during the production of another film (Dragonheart), Pogue was unceremoniously booted from the Kull project, his script changing hands to another writer that delivered the final script that was shot. As is normally the case, when a script changes hands, the new writer will alter a few things here and there; apparently, what the new writer chose to alter was apparently anything that stayed all that true to Howard and his vision, with the exception to the film's end where Kull smashes the tablets of Law with his axe (a scene that is lifted straight from the final scene of Howard's short story ‘By This Axe, I Rule!').

Of course, it should probably go without saying that Kevin Sorbo wasn't the first choice of the film's creators to take on the part of Kull; it was, however, the studios choice, who they pushed for and ultimately got (according to Pogue, the role was originally desired by the original director, Kevin Hooks, to go to Thomas Ian Griffith, who played the part of the final film's male villain, as opposed to the female villain, played by Tia Carrere). Obviously, at the time that Kull the Conqueror hit theaters, Sorbo was riding a career high, following the huge and largely unexpected success of his syndicated television series Hercules: The Legendary Journeys (which was followed by the even bigger success story that was Xena: Warrior Princess). Unfortunately, bringing Sorbo in to get the proverbial ‘rub' from his popular series didn't appear to be enough for the makers of the film; instead, it seems as though they tried to pattern the Kull the Conqueror after Hercules, in any way they could, perhaps in order to bring in an air of familiarity. Now, I don't have any kind of beef with Kevin Sorbo being cast. I like him, and he obviously has a look that caters to such a genre. And I don't have a problem with Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, which I loved, and have admitted to doing so frequently. However, Howard's writings, regardless of what anyone else might tell you, doesn't lend itself all that well to ‘camp', which Hercules indeed was; Howard's works were brutal in their depictions of violence, raw and unafraid…like Milius' Conan the Barbarian. Therefore, the idea of attempting to replicate Kull in the form and layout of a campy television series just doesn't work. Everything – from the cheesy acting to the production values – just screams ‘LOOK! IT'S LIKE HERCULES! YOU LOVE THAT SHOW! WE KNOW YOU DO, WE'VE SEEN THE RATINGS!' Even Sorbo is…well, SORBO-y, as one would be hard-pressed to uncover any subtle differences between his portrayals of Kull and Hercules. On the bright side, this film stands as being the closest of an actual ‘adaptation' of a Howard story as we've seen yet, as the film lifts story elements from both the aforementioned ‘By This Axe, I Rule!', as well as the only actual Conan novel that Howard wrote, titled ‘The Hour of the Dragon'. So it's got that going for it. In the end, if you happen to be fan of Hercules, you'd probably enjoy Kull to a certain extent; if you're more of a Howard fan…eh, probably not so much.

Other Howard-based Ventures…

Conan the Adventurer (1992): This is in relation to the animated series, in case you were wondering. I actually gave my thoughts on this subject two weeks ago, so if you missed it, suffice it to say that I dearly love this series. Howard probably would have hated it, but it was the final spike that drove home the fact that I needed to read the original Howard stories. I think he'd at least appreciate that.

Conan and the Young Warriors (1994): Ah, this was the sequel to …the Adventurer. Yeah, that's right; that first show was actually popular enough, and had completely resolved its over-arching plot…and it got a sequel! The possibilities were endless for awesomeness, as far as I was concerned back then. And what's more, it actually aired at a decent hour on Saturday mornings, not 6 AM on weekdays. So, of course, they blow it by essentially rendering the appearances of the title character into little more than cameos every episode, kind of like the Dungeonmaster character from Dungeons & Dragons. What!? Needless to say, the show only lasted 13 episodes, and for good reason – Conan was wasted.

Conan the Adventurer (1997): Ah, the LIVE-ACTION Conan television series…as that's what this was, in case you didn't know. Remember what I said about Kull being derivative of Hercules and Xena? That's what this show was, but was far, far inferior to those two behemoths. What do Howard fans think of the show? Well, watch it, then take at gander at the first time jolly ol' Conan cheeses at the camera like he's in a photo-shoot (which, I guess, he technically IS in a photo-shoot). That should be enough to tell you what they think of it. This only ran for 22 episodes before the plug was pulled. Star Ralf Moeller had the look of Conan, though…just not the attitude.

Pigeons From Hell (1961) : I was actually somewhat surprised to learn that this story had actually been adapted to film in the early-60's. However, it wasn't adapted into a movie; it stood as an episode in a Horror anthology series that aired on television in the 1950's to the 1960's called Thriller, narrated by all-time Horror icon Boris Karloff himself. Of course, I've never seen the episode, though I'm sure that you could find the episode on the ‘net somewhere and download it…which could be the only way I get to watch the thing. At any rate, if anything, Pigeons from Hell is worth noting for it's being thus far the only bit of film that has been directly adapted from an actual Howard story, and not merely based on a Howard concept.

Conan III (or the once rumored Conan the King): This film seemed like it was going to actually happen quite a few times, though I was most interested in seeing the last supposed incarnation of the film, featuring Arnold as an aged King Conan, and The Rock as his son, Cor. The Rock had proven that he could potentially fit perfect in this film, as he had just come off of his own pretty good Sword-and-Sorcery film, The Scorpion King. Too bad, as I'd like to think that it could have been pretty decent.

Conan: Red Nails: Ah, Conan: Red Nails…where the hell are you? For those not in the know, Conan: Red Nails is a feature-length animated film that has seemingly been in production for an ETERNITY, as several years back the film entered into actual production, with Ron Perlman signed onto the project to lend his voice to that of the titular barbarian (with various other roles in the cast to supposedly be padded by the likes of Clancy Brown, Mark Hamill, and James Marsden). Seeing as how it was indeed a Conan film (and an animated one at that) AND being the very first Conan film that was to be an actual adaptation of a Howard story (one of my favorite Howard stories, no less), I've been suitably anxious to watch this film for, oh I don't know, about four years now. Originally from what I've read about the project, the development company for the film (Paradox) planned on finishing the film within a year, subsequently releasing it by the following summer, which was, as you now know, four years ago. Then it all just seemed to…go away. However, a few months back, there was indeed a statement released, which claimed that the film is STILL in post-production and tentatively scheduled for a direct-to-DVD release in the winter of '09. I truly hope that it is, and even though the thing may very well end up being a massive disappoint in the vein of the Dragonlance direct-to-DVD animated film that was released two years ago…well, I'll still probably buy the thing on the night of its release. Here's hoping it's everything that it can be…because what it CAN be is the greatest and most faithful Conan film ever made (seriously).

Conan (tentatively 2010): This is, of course, in reference to the upcoming film that's being directed by Brett Ratner…SIGH. No, no, I'm just playing there, but I will say this about what work of Ratner's that I've seen thus far: I didn't particularly care for the Rush Hour films (though mainly due to the Chris Tucker factor); I most definitely didn't care for Red Dragon, as, even though series poster-child Sir Anthony Hopkins was absent, Manhunter (of which Red Dragon is a remake) was superior in every way possible; and X-Men: The Last Stand, well, I've documented my distaste with that particular excursion before. So it stands from my own personal perspective that Ratner's got his work cut out for him with Conan…though he can deliver the film in a overwhelmingly positive light, then I'll sing his praises for years to come. Hopefully, he'll step up and deliver the definitive Conan picture.

Solomon Kane (supposedly 2009): For those that don't know, Solomon Kane is a Puritan that skulks around the planet looking to whip Evil's ass. He's a fairly dark and gloomy character, and I'd expect nothing less than for this to be an equally dark film. It stars James Purefoy as the titular dour hero, and it's supposed to be basically ‘in the can', as well as the first of a planned trilogy. It has promise, I'll tell you that much…as long as the creators haven't seen fit to throw in some Matrix-y ‘wire-fu' or Zach Snyder ‘super-slo-mo' action sequences.

Red Sonja (supposedly 2010): Robert Rodriguez surprisingly announced last year that he was set to produce a new Sonja film, with his main squeeze Rose McGowan set to star as the scantily-clad heroine. Judging by what stills I've seen, it looks…familiar…oh yeah, like Sin City. It could be unique in the genre of Sword-and-Sorcery, though. Apparently, that's as far as the film has moved along, as it's been stuck in the early stages of pre-production since its announcement.

Bran Mak Morn (release…?): I decided to go ahead and throw this one on here, though I'm really unsure as to whether or not this particular film will truly be made. Thus far, the film has a director attached…and not much else, as far as I know. Morn is another of Howard's Fantasy characters, being a Pict battling against the Roman legions around the 5th or 6th Century. He's mostly obscure enough to the masses that this could end up being the truest of Howard's characters to be committed to film.

I leave you with what is believed to be the last words that Howard ever wrote…

All fled, all done
So lift me on the pyre.
The feast is over
And the lamps expire.