This film is just plain godawful and most amusement value comes directly from the clash of the bad script with the even worse direction and acting. That and speculating what concatenation of groovy drugs produced this horrorshow. I'm sure it will come as no surprise to anyone that Alan Ladd couldn't act. But since he was there to look heroic, I suppose that doesn't matter much. As it is, I had a good laugh at the way his blond mop never seemed to move, even at the most strenuous gallop on a horse or the most violent sword fight. The only part of his body less mobile than his hair was his face.
But my favourite part, just for sheer awfulness, is the sacrificial maiden sequence set at a foam-and-clapboard version of Stonehenge. While a bunch of solemn, talentless starlets sway in a ceremonial dance, drunken Vikings lounge under the standing stones, sniggering into their mead. I kid thee not. I could see either the maidens or the Vikings as background to the main action, but both? What the heck was the director thinking?!
Unfortunately, the rest of the flick is very dull. This little trainwreck-that-couldn't just goes to prove that the Brit film industry of the 50s was as capable of producing bad, frothy, costume tosh as Hollywood.
But my favourite part, just for sheer awfulness, is the sacrificial maiden sequence set at a foam-and-clapboard version of Stonehenge. While a bunch of solemn, talentless starlets sway in a ceremonial dance, drunken Vikings lounge under the standing stones, sniggering into their mead. I kid thee not. I could see either the maidens or the Vikings as background to the main action, but both? What the heck was the director thinking?!
Unfortunately, the rest of the flick is very dull. This little trainwreck-that-couldn't just goes to prove that the Brit film industry of the 50s was as capable of producing bad, frothy, costume tosh as Hollywood.