Flash Gordon (1980)

HBO On Demand

June 28, 2008

*** / ****

by Scott Muoio

“Keeping our word is one of the things that makes us better than you.” – an actual line spoken in Flash Gordon. Ed Wood, eat your heart out!

Dino DeLaurentis is a producer of questionable taste. Over the course of his 66-year career, DeLaurentis’ films have raised many an eyebrow ranging from the absurd to the confused, the ridiculously serious to the seriously ridiculous. From the ludicrous space romp that featured Jane Fonda in a bear skin bikini, Barberella, to the hard-as-nails Charles Bronson vigilante-fest, Death Wish, the outlandish Conan series that made Arnold Schwartzeneger a star to the lewd and anything but subdued leg crosser, Basic Instinct, and of course the king of head scratching complexity, David Lynch’s Dune, DeLaurentis’ productions are lavishly absurd, monumental motion picture extravaganzas in a league all their own. In other words, when the opening credits announce, “Produced by Dino DeLaurentis” you know you’re in for some over-the-top antics and gut-busting hilarity, most likely of the unintentional kind. DeLaurentis’ 1980 version of the 1930s serial, Flash Gordon, smack dab in the middle of his career, is his camp masterwork and most assuredly the epitome of the “B-movie.”

A simple list of B-movie staples, which are all on full display in this film, will explain exactly why Flash Gordon is king of the B’s: bad acting, bad dialogue, bad jokes, bad combat scenes, and a bad story that is as ludicrous as one could imagine (…after a bored, bald humanoid with a fu-manchu named Ming the Merciless causes hurricanes to crush earth, a burly, blonde NFL quarterback, Flash Gordon, flees the planet in a backyard spaceship only to find himself captured by said fu-manchued ruler of the universe. What!?).

Despite its out-of-this-world premise and bad execution, the movie succeeds because there is a joyous tone and quality present throughout. From its first frame to its last (comic strip graphics accompanied by Queen’s camp classic, “Flash’s Theme” and an absurd cliffhanger question printed right on the screen, respectively), Flash Gordon perfectly teeters the line of “so bad it’s good” that the film is assured of being utterly memorable even as it stinks to high heaven. Some of the film’s most notable hallmarks include several famous faces (Timothy Dalton, Max von Sydow, among others) who brilliantly play their roles straight as an arrow bucking the obvious inclination to ham it up, a smattering of gratuitous female cat fights, a few intentionally hilarious (I think!) seduction scenes and one-liners (“prepare her for our pleasure!”), a heaping dose of fantastical sets that could have easily come from a high school play with a 35 million dollar budget (think that one over for a moment!), and some of the most puzzling and nonsensical plot and character gaffes you may ever witness (why do men with wings have an emergency flying motorcycle in their palace?). But like other misfit films whose charm is directly proportionate to their many warts, from one glorious absurdity to the next, Flash Gordon charms us with its many misguided obsessions and heavily prepared silliness. Indeed, movies like this don’t come along often and it’s no wonder: it takes a precise formula to make cinema so bad its sort of good.

Whether you see Flash Gordon as a camp triumph or a film that completely misses the mark, one thing can be certain: Flash is a lousy movie. Despite it’s addictively absurd visuals and “what will they say next?” obtuse dialogue Flash is also kind of boring, especially disappointing considering the grand spectrum of space opera it covers and the limitless potential for eye-catching visuals and characters that are there for the taking. However, the movie is also eons beyond the typical cinematic steaming turd because it tries, it cares, and it dares reach for the impossible in the face of certain failure, precisely why I must recommend it to anyone who can appreciate a terrific bad movie. Like a pig in shit, Flash Gordon embraces its absurdity, pours on the decadence like few others, and never gives a damn what any critic might write. Indeed, Flash’s visuals are as dazzling as they are entirely phony and preposterous, it’s action and romance as tepid as they are fiercely perverse (“Go Flash, go!”), and the film as a whole every bit as entertaining as Plan 9 From Outerspace, Roadhouse, or Reptilicus, three of the most golden turkeys ever to grace the silver screen. Academy Awards be damned, if it’s chutzpah and the bizarre one seeks then Flash is the movie to see. No doubt it excels on that front like a rocket cycle shooting into the cosmos and beyond! Now if that isn’t the best compliment I could give Dino DeLaurentis’ all-time camp classic, than I don’t know what might be.

“Flash! Ahhhhh – ahhhhhhhh- ahhhhh… savior of the universe!!!!!!”