What separates Hercules
from the fantasy we often see, is how screenwriters Ryan J. Condal and Evan
Spiliotopoulos (adapting Steve Moore and Admira Wijaya’s Hercules: The Thracian Wars) place our God-like hero in reality. His
twelve labours are told as tales to motivate troops to battle, with ambiguity
surrounding the truth of his triumphs. Hercules is the leader of a team that, amongst
forgettable men and one woman, includes Ian ‘Lovejoy’ McShane who has,
comically, seen his own arrow-shot death. Referred to as ‘comrades’, Hercules as
the “Son of Zeus” is an image, and he comfortably reveals how his band of merry
men support him as much he supports them. This humility separates him from
heroes who merely lead and dictate – it is clear that Hercules is not a lone
mercenary. The team are sought to fight for the King of Thrace (played with
ease by John Hurt) as his lands are infiltrated by a War Lord and his army,
known to be a group of centaurs who murder and kill all who stand in their
path. Peter Mullan memorably plays a gruff military-man while Joseph Fiennes
pops up as a fiendish, smug ruler who our titular hero knows personally.
Within minutes from the start, we see women spilling out of
their dresses and gory, bloody battles that establish the sex and violence
“sale” that this film seeks to live up to. Director Brett Ratner is known for his
forgettable-fluff in cinema. He nearly destroyed the X-Men series with X-Men: The Last Stand and he failed to
reignite Eddie Murphy’s career in Tower
Heist. Hercules only adds ammo to the relentless attack film-fans will use
to discredit his career. This is long,
shiny swords and bulging biceps akin to 300,
but without the graphic, artistic flair. Amidst the onslaught of violence,
there is a story that aches to be told – something about legends being rooted
in truth and a neat twist hinting at an anti-capitalist stance as Hercules
refuses his payment to protect others and retain his integrity. These
intriguing themes are lost in the pouring fire, falling stone-columns and
flash-in-your-face horrors that dominate the majority of the action.
Despite quality actors in Peter Mullan and John Hurt, Hercules relies on serviceable dialogue
and an over-use of CGI. Something jars, and though Johnson’s charm rises to the
challenge and almost erases our memory of The
Scorpion King, this by-the-book blockbuster fails to tell a fable of the
ages and falls to the pit of Hades.
This review was originally written for Flickering Myth on 23rd July 2014
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