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Well, let’s get it out of the way straight off. Flash! Ahh-ahhh! He’ll save every one of us! You have to do that when discussing Flash Gordon, you know. It’s like a drinking game without the booze. The deathless battle cry of this movie is well-known even to those who have never even seen it. Full of color, verve, and the rocking, operatic sounds of Queen, the 1980 Flash Gordon takes Eighties camp to a level matched by few of its big-haired contemporaries. It’s a damn shame the 2007 series can’t say the same thing. At least then, there would be a reason to recommend it.

This is hard to do after six sour cream burritos!

Historically speaking, it’s difficult to judge exactly what does and does not constitute a “quality” Flash Gordon adaptation, since nearly every iteration of the franchise since the comic books has been fairly awful. First drawn by Alex Raymond in 1934 as a competitor to Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon became a radio serial in 1935 (entitled The Amazing Interplanetary Adventures of Flash Gordon), a magazine in 1936 (Flash Gordon Strange Adventure Magazine), as well as an ongoing serial from 1936 onward starring Buster Crabbe. The serial, while interesting historically, is pretty plodding by modern standards, and probably not something you’ll find riveting unless you’re a Flash Gordon freak (like myself).

A television series followed in 1954, a flashy but highly repetitive Filmation animated series in 1979, and, of course, a soon-to-be-canceled series on the Sci-Fi Channel in August of 2007. There were also some novels, a few other remakes, and probably a lunchbox or two. Those who love to criticize George Lucas his shameless cross-marketing of the Star Wars franchise take note: he didn’t invent that gag, either.

Flash Gordon (1980)

Of all the Flash Gordon manifestations, Mike Hodge’s 1980 film is, perhaps ironically, by far the most watchable. Like most of its predecessors, the movie basically apes the opening storyline of the 1936 serial. Flash, a successful athelete of some sort (precisely what sort of often depends on the decade), along with cub reporter Dale Arden and eccentric Russian scientist Hans Zarkov, jumps in a rocket ship and embarks to the planet Mongo in an effort to determine why the earth is being pelted by mysterious, destructive meteors.

Upon reaching Mongo, our heroes find that the evil overlord Ming the Merciless (played by the transcendantly badass Max von Sydow) is behind the attacks. “But why attack Earth?” asks Zarkov indignantly. “Why not?” Ming chuckles, and then orders Flash executed, Zarkov’s mind wiped, and Dale Arden to his bedchamber. And away we go. Suffice it to say, Flash Gordon never strays far from its pulp roots.

Something approximating a plot follows, ostensibly about Flash trying to unite the warring factions against Ming and overthrow him. Mongo, as it turns out, is a politically contentious place. The Hawkmen, led by Prince Vultan (Brian Blessed), and the men of Arborea, led by Prince Barin (Timothy Dalton) quarrel amongst themselves, while the wily Princess Aura (Ornella Muti) tries to seduce Flash — mostly, it seems, out of sheer boredom. Plucky cub reporter Dale, meanwhile, being the hardcore pulp heroine that she is, mostly puts her hand to her forehead and faints a lot. Zarkov is strapped to a table and is brainwashed by a giant contraption straight out of Goldfinger. There are also some killer swamp monsters, robot guards, and floating cities. In other words, the movie takes every gag from the pulp-magazine playbook and just puts it right on the field.

General Klytus, the illegitimate love child of Darth Vader, Liberace, and Twiki.

In the grand scheme of things, the plot of Flash Gordon is considerably less interesting than the garish, opulent production design by Danilo Donati — and, because this is a Dino de Laurentiis production, the movie is filled with the kind of glorious cheese only De Laurentiis was capable of producing in his heyday. The cast, for starters, is nothing short of inspired; Max von Sydow is glorious as Ming, sneering and laughing in his deific Von Sydowishness. Ming also has a mysterious black-clad henchman named General Kleitus who is an android… or a mutant… or something. Well, it barely matters The point is, he’s awesome. During the opening sequence, Dr. Zarkov chases his hapless assistant with a gun, firing off shots and demanding his assistant “die in the name of science.” (Incidentally, for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on, this sequence always reminds me of fellow dimfuture.net author Craig.) In short, just about everyone is charmingly insane.

Ironically, the blandest actor in the cast is the baby-faced Sam J. Jones, resembling nothing so much as a budget Reb Brown as he sheepishly grins his way through most of his lines. But this, too, is well according to type — Flash Gordon has always been kind of a milktoast, whitebread sort of hero, and Jones’ Flash is certainly no exception. Jones has a certain naive charm about him, but isn’t rogueishly sexist or brutal enough to really fit the part. Ironically, the worst costume of the bunch is doubtlessly Gordon’s — a tight tee shirt with FLASH emblazoned on the front in big red letters — in case he forgets, apparently.

Despite its flaws — and there are a lot of them — Flash Gordon is packed to bursting with campy pleasures. Take, for instance, Brian Blessed’s legendary scene-chewing; or better yet, the soaring, goofy Queen sountrack, which accomplishes the astonishing task of making Toto’s Dune score look polished and reserved by comparison. Like the movie itself, Queen’s soundtrack is joyously devoid of irony, filled with electronic bleeps and wailing guitars — basically, exactly the kind of soundtrack you would expect a band like Queen to deliver. The visual effects, although indisputably spotty by twenty-first century standards, are quite striking in places, especially the vast, psychedelic vistas of Mongo, apparently created by swirling dyes in lit tanks of water.

Seriously, how awesome is this guy?

Of course, it’s not all roses — like most pulp movies, Flash Gordon is pretty misogynistic at its basic level. There’s a subplot in which Ming plots to marry Dale (if for no reason other than she looks good in Lycra, apparently), and Dale spends the majority of the movie dressed up in diaphanous gowns and looking distraught. Princess Aura, meanwhile, is scheming and sexually predatory, but still ends up strapped to an examination table being whipped by her kinky interrogators. But, if you don’t mind that sort of thing, by all means, enjoy! I know I certainly did.

It’s worth noting that De Laurentiis originally wanted Fellini to direct the Flash Gordon. I can’t even imagine how awesome that might have been. On the other hand, Hodges briefly considered having Pink Floyd do the soundtrack (which, let’s face it, is just plain silly, right?) As it stands, Flash Gordon is hardly immortal cinema — it’s uneven, ham-fisted, and surpringly inept in places. But Hodge’s movie, quite wisely, doesn’t take itself too seriously, and it’s this self-aware sense of fun that lifts it above its profoundly corny roots — something the Sci-Fi series would have done well to try to emulate. Speaking of which…

Flash Gordon (2007)

At the very least, there’s one thing to be grateful for when it comes to Sci-Fi’s Flash Gordon series: it resulted in a decent Region 1 DVD release of the Mike Hodges movie. Aside from that — well, aside from that, nothing: the pilot of the 2007 series is almost completely worthless, and future episodes are looking no better. As previously remarked upon, the various big- and small-screen adaptations of Flash Gordon have all been (for the most part) less then stellar, although this latest version goes to great lengths to bleed out what little fun might have been left.

“Where’s the bathroom?” This is the most exciting thing that happens in an entire hour of Flash Gordon.

The plot is basically the same as most all the Gordon manifestations, with a few contemporary twists, all of them bland and awful. Obviously inspired by Smallville, Sci-Fi’s take on Flash concentrates mainly on the precious follies of small-town romance and petty post-college drama. Instead of being a lantern-jawed hero, Flash is now a distance-running wimp who lives with his mother, and Dale Arden a carbon copy of Lois Lane, ostensibly out to get a big scoop for the local paper, but really just there to trade dreadful one-liners and occasionally get tied up. Also, rather than being Flash’s girlfriend, Dale is now engaged to a sneering, emotionally abusive jackass. Such a rich palette of characterization. Try not to faint.

Unfortunately, it gets worse. In keeping with Sci-Fi’s efforts to drain the series of all hope and joy, Hans Zarkov is now a twitchy, balding, Lone Gunmen-esque weenie who lives in a Winnebago and chatters like a paranoid Chris Tucker. There are no spaceships or alien planets; only a cheap, Sliders-esque dimensional portal that operates by indecipherable, inconsistent rules, and Mongo is basically Ontario with a lens filter.

Worst of all are the characters of Mongo itself. Apparently keen to avoid any controversy over Ming the Merciless’ historical resemblance to Fu Manchu, the Sci-Fi channel has bravly avoided impending accusations of racism by casting a blonde white guy as the villain. Hooray for progress. I’d like to tell you how boring the new Ming was, but I can’t, as I don’t remember a thing about him.

Princess Aura, meanwhile, is a pouty, vapid, cross-eyed bimbette, played by Anna Van Hooft, quite possibly the worst actress I’ve seen in a decade. That’s not hyperbole. You can practically see her reading the cue cards. There’s also some scowling, indistinguishable brunette, who’s an android, or an assassin, or something. To be honest, I’m not really sure. She showed up in the last ten minutes, and I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Thrill as Flash mildly inconveniences an endless string of uninteresting tertiary characters!

As far as the story goes, there’s little to say. Without preserving any of the verve and style of its predecessors, the 2007 Flash Gordon also fails to reinvent itself in anything resembling an interesting way (like, for example, Battlestar Galactica), instead opting for a storyline so trite, it makes Stargate: SG-1 look daring and inventive.

By way of brief example: in the pilot episode, the villains go in search for a mysterious object called “the Imex,” and so send a cyborg assassin from another dimension to go menace the local bowling alleys and gas stations in order to fetch it. Madcap hilarity ensues until Flash suddenly figures out the “Imex” is actually his Timex watch. Get it? Imex? Timex? Yeah. Buckle up, because that’s the sort of thing you’re in for.

Overall, the pilot was so dreadful that as a die-hard fan of Flash Gordon, it’s doubtful I’ll tune in to so much as a second episode of this. It’s not “so bad it’s good,” or even endearingly quirky. It’s as bland and mayonnaise-like as the generic actor who plays Flash Gordon’s titular role.

And, to make matters worse, they remixed Queen’s indelible theme. Oh, Sci-Fi. Have you no shame at all?

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 16th, 2007 at 2:11 am and is filed under Movies, Reviews, Television. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.