The Sword and the Sorcerer

MOVIE #1,376 • 🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿 • 02.15.24 ALBERT & AKERMAN: AN AUTEURIST STUDY IN CONTRAST + CONTINUUM 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝒹 𝒫𝓇𝑜 𝒲𝒽𝑜𝒶 by Justin Jefferson Albert Pyun would never have a bigger hit. The Sword and the Sorcerer made back over 10x its budget (over $100-million at the box office when adjusted for inflation). But right from the get-go, he was up against it. He struggled with studios and producers to get final cut throughout his entire career and — while the end product here IS strong — it’s very telling that it’s listed as “A Brandon Chase Film.” You know BRANDON CHASE, producer of such fine films as Alligator and Alligator II: The Mutation (both of which I’ve reviewed). Pyun wasn’t so much the modern day Ed Wood1 as he was B-movie cinema’s Rodney Dangerfield.

To give credit where it's due, "The Sword and the Sorcerer" does have two areas of relative originality: Its sword, and its sorcerer. I already mentioned that the sword is three-pronged. That's not all. It has the ability to hurl two of its blades like a spear-gun, and it has a dagger hidden in its handle (it must have been designed by James Bond's munitions man). —Roger Ebert

In Roger Ebert’s ½-star (!) review of his film he mostly bemoaned the fact that the characters sucked. He loved the cool sword (and the cool sorcerer) but we all love those things. Well, if I am going to make a case for this project, this side-by-side study of Pyun and Chantal Akerman, then I’m going to have to get into character. Nobody is going through the sets of any Albert Pyun film with a fine-toothed comb (though they’re wonderful and have a lot to look at). There’s no Smurfs poster to dissect, in other words…


I bet Chantal Akerman never used a matte painting².

But back to character: there is a guy here named Machelli who is, dare I say it, Machiavellian in nature. It's very interesting that their names are so similar. Guess Ebert never cracked a book hmmm. If I wasn’t doing this contrast, I would simply focus on all the marvelous shots, practical effects and action set-pieces, of which there are plenty—




—but instead I’d like to focus on gender. Because this is the bend that the great shoehorn directs me to go.

On the surface, this film treats women like objects, man. And sure, that’s the genre to a degree. When the demon Xusia is awoken, he proves his powers by killing the witch who worships him, the only female in the scene, and not one of the King’s lackeys. Women have no agency in this picture. They are merely pawns. The princess/heroine secures the services of the great warrior only by offering up her sex in return. But when you peek beneath the covers, a different story emerges. She’s constantly kneeing dudes in the junk to get away from their horny/criminal advances. That is until — in an excellent callback — she knees Machelli, who’s really Xusia in disguise. He’s unaffected, as there are no dick and balls on a demon wearing pants…


Even the promised ‘romantic’/consensual consummation happens off-screen. This film, whether or intentionally or not, seems to embody a fear of sex/women. And lest you think this was truly a romantic tale, the warrior lets us know the would-be queen was just another notch in his belt. In fact, it's how the picture ends…


The movie is littered with moments of men about to have sex, who get called to battle instead. (More like The Sword and the Blue Balls!) We’re meant to see this as a call of duty, an ode to bravery and pride, but it’s emblematic of a greater theme: the aforementioned fear and/or frustration with the fairer sex. The snake gets close but never bites. And who chops the head off this serpent, thus rendering it impotent…


Perhaps, the big idea circulating this study of Albert & Akerman is one of artist intent. There is little more to take away concerning the latter auteur, whose work is nothing if not an extension of the self, but with the former it’s nearly nonexistent and — when considering Pyun’s career-long struggles — it becomes a point of interest in and of itself, almost by default. Sure, this is ‘reaching’ — this is the shoehorn, the gimmick — and, perhaps, as we move forward in time, certain, more concrete motifs will emerge, but cinema (any movie ever made) is what YOU make of it. When I spoke of the synergy, the spark, in my introduction, that was not a lie. That was and is real. Like the Smurfs poster, that King Richard gave me Dr. Zaius vibes is simply fluff, fodder, the stuff in between…


A new breed of duck has emerged in the pond by my house that I’ve never seen before: the Common Merganser, I believe (though they are uncommon to me)…

MALE ON THE LEFT; FEMALE ON RIGHT - PHOTO VIA ALLABOUTBIRDS.ORG

I haven’t been able to get close enough to take my own photo yet. Because they are new to these waters, I think they might be more scared of humans and tend to only swim in the middle of the pond. But that’s just a guess. Sometimes, a guess is all you need.

FOOTNOTES
1. SOURCE
2. Will be happy to eat my hat if this proves untrue.

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CHRONOLOGICALLY
⫷ MOVIE #1,375 - (YOU ARE HERE) - MOVIE #1,377 ⫸

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The Sword and the Sorcerer is a 1982 American sword and sorcery fantasy film co-written and directed by Albert Pyun, and starring Lee Horsley, Kathleen Beller, Simon MacCorkindale, George Maharis, Richard Lynch, and Richard Moll. The plot concerns a mercenary with a three-bladed projectile sword who rediscovers his royal heritage when he is recruited to help a princess foil the designs of a brutal tyrant, and a powerful, devil-like sorcerer, in conquering the land. The film had initially mixed reviews, but a cult following developed. It was a box office success, grossing almost ten times its budget. It was released on April 23, 1982.