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Dungeons & Dragons (2000)
Date Reviewed: 6-3-2001
Critical Kobold Rating:
(1 out of 5 Tasty Fish)
Save Vs. Nauseousness
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Update: Jan 25,
2011
This review was originally written in June of 2001, almost a full
decade ago. It was in fact the movie that prompted this kobold to
take up quill and vellum and become a critic. It took ten years
before I could even consider re-watching this hideous troll-barf of
a movie. However, while recently flipping through the channels on a
lazy Saturday afternoon looking for some quality entertainment, such
as a re-run of a Hooters swimsuit competition, I came across the
official
Dungeons & Dragons movie, inflicting itself on a new generation
of unsuspecting gamers. Steeling myself with a hefty refill of
gnomish grog, I gritted my teeth and vowed to make it through one
more viewing to see if I had somehow been overly harsh in my
critique of the work.
Do not, esteemed reader, ever say that this kobold does not
sacrifice himself for his art, because I will bite your face off.
It is safe to say that not only was I not overly cruel in my
original assessment, but I believe that in my stunned and woozy
state brought about by the fact that watching this movie actually
sucks IQ points from your brain, I may indeed have produced a
gentler review than this insipid piece of orog excrement deserved.
At any rate, here is the updated version of the review, expanded and
edited to reflect tidbits of detail overlooked the first time, and
aggravating memories that came to me as I watched the tale unfold
for a second time.
Pass the grog, dammit.
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Greetings, fellow moviegoers and gamers.
Last night I had the grave misfortune of renting the
movie Dungeons & Dragons. What follows is a harrowing and
intricate review of my personal feelings for the film. Stop reading
now if you have a Constitution score less than 5.
First off, I am aware that some of you have also seen
this film, and if you can shed light upon any of the points I bring
up here, please feel free to do so. Also, I'm going to give away
major plot points (not like that will hurt the plot in any way), so
don't read this if you plan on seeing the movie.
No, on second thought, read this instead, and DON'T see
the movie.
I didn't see this at the theaters, oddly enough. Like
most enthusiastic D&D gamers, I at first reveled in the
announcement that a movie based on D&D was in the works. As the
release grew nearer, however, I found that every time I read
something about the film, I heard within my head the faint, ominous
orchestral music reserved for suspense movies wherein the hero is
about to meet some dire and loathsome foe. When the movie came and
went in theaters within a week, I suspected the worst.
I wasn’t even aware that the movie was out on video
until last night as I strolled through Blockbuster. On reflection, I
should have known earlier in the week that something was amiss in
the world when a dark and vile omen appeared on TV... yes, The
Adventures of Buckaroo Bonzai, one of the worst films
ever in the history of mankind, had been on. The appearance of
Buckaroo re-runs, much like an appearance of the Four
Horsemen, never heralds anything good.
OK, so let me throw out some background before we get
rolling. The creator and director of this film was a dude named
Courtney Solomon. Courtney was 29 when he made this film, and it was
his first directing gig. Solomon claimed he’d been a D&D aficionado
when he was a schoolboy, and somehow in 1990 he acquired the rights
to make an official D&D movie from TSR, the erstwhile owners of the
Dungeons & Dragons role playing game. (I’m guessing a mass
charm spell was involved, because how else can you explain TSR
looking at a 19- year- old nobody with absolutely no film
experience, handing him the rights to the biggest name-brand product
in the gaming market, and nodding to themselves, “Yeah, this is the
man to get the job done!”) It then took Solomon ten years to get
funding for the project, and the result is this flick.
Part of the enthusiasm exhibited by gamers when the project was
first announced stemmed from the fact that the role-playing
community was pleased that a fellow gamer was in charge, because
they figured they would get something true to the source material.
The truth was far, far more chaotic evil. You see, it turns out that
Mr. Solomon had no goddam clue how to portray some incredibly basic
tenants of the D&D game material, nor did he know how to make a
coherent movie. From every shred of evidence provided by this film,
it’s easy to believe two facts: that Solomon had never actually read
a single Dungeons & Dragons game book in his life, and that
if he had even been a film student, his GPA must have hovered in the
“D” range. That, or he’s an utter idiot.
So let’s
just heave a mighty sigh of resignation, and get to it…
Firstly, I have no solid idea what Dungeons & Dragons was
about. I know what each character was doing during the film, but I
have no clue as to why anyone is really doing anything. Even
after several scene rewinds, in which I thought perhaps I had missed
some vital clue to the plot, I was no nearer to understanding this
movie's point. Many of the things that happen are so contrived, or
nonsensical, that your Intelligence would have to be in the “3”
range to accept them as reasonable.
It seems that the young Empress Savina rules Izmer, a
magocracy (a kingdom ruled by the wizard class.) If you're not a
wizard, then you're a poor oppressed peasant. Makes sense so far.
The Empress wants to make everyone equal in status with wizards, and
therefore wants the Wizard Council to agree with her that peasants
are people too. Since she and the movie never once explain how
exactly everyone is going to be equal even if the wizards
agree to her point (does everyone get to wear a pointy hat?), I
personally didn't really get behind her noble cause, but let's not
get into that yet. I’m also not sure why an Empress needs the OK of
a council to do anything, but perhaps it’s some weird progressive
government and the title Empress isn’t as cool and powerful as it
sounds. Her token of station is a staff that allows her to control
gold dragons. I guess the Empress wanders around with that, in case
she should bump into a dragon, like, hiding in her wardrobe or
something.
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The fact that I am still hazy on the plot is especially surprising
because of the amazing amount of exposition done during the first
twenty minutes of this movie. Every character explains in
excruciating detail why they're doing whatever it is they're doing,
even if they're talking to somebody who knows perfectly well what
that character is doing. I know this is supposed to get the
plot rolling, but it just makes everyone sound like a blathering
dolt and does surprisingly little to help the plot make sense.
Meanwhile, it seems the evil wizard Profion wants to
control...things. (The Mage Council? The City? The World? I have no
idea.) To do so, he convinces, apparently without magic, the entire
wizard council that the Empress is a rebel with fanciful ideas of
giving rights to the peasants, and that the council needs to boot
her out of power and seize her staff of dragon control. From the
scenes, I'd say there are about 40 wizard council members, and why
every single one of them goes along happily with Profion's vague and
completely unsubstantiated assertion that the Empress is a danger is
beyond me. I guess they're all terrified of peasants being people,
too. Apparently it’s not important to the plot, so let's move on. |
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Profion discovers that there’s another staff of dragon control
somewhere in the kingdom, only this one controls red dragons, which
are evil. Profion figures if he can get his hands on that staff, he
can use the red dragons to rule once Savina and her gold dragon
staff are out of the way. Profion sends his Captain of the Guard
underling, Damodar, to the mages’ guild to pry the location of the
red dragon staff out of the Empress’ mentor.
Enter our … um… “heroes,” who make Jar Jar Binks and
Scooby Doo look like masters of their craft. The protagonist Ridley
is OK, in a sidekick kind of way, really. Too bad he's not the
sidekick. He’s supposed to be the dashing, roguish, self-sufficient,
wrong-side- of- the-wagon- tracks type. The actual sidekick is
“Snails” (Damon Wayans), who's the most grating, annoying,
detestable asswipe this side of Snarf from "Thunder Cats". Snails
is spastic and whiney and inept. I wouldn't penalize any of you in a
D&D game for running a character like this through with a dull
two-handed sword. He’s the comic relief character, if your idea of
comic relief is a sharp slap in your nads.
Ridley and Snails are two thieves who do absolutely
nothing thiefly during the whole
movie (not successfully, anyway). This is the first example of Solomon not understanding a key
archetype of the D&D game: thieves have specialized skill sets that
allow them to be, you know, sneaky. These two dipshits aren’t quiet,
they don’t pick pockets, they can’t climb walls without rope and
hooks, they can’t read unfamiliar script, find traps – which is
very obvious as the movie progresses - or hear noise or hide in
shadows. These things are all basic thief skills, dudes. These guys have
none of those talents. Well, during one scene, Snails does snag a
candelabra and what appears to be an ugly stuffed cat doll, from a
merchant stall. In plain sight. In broad daylight. Are those really
valuable items, that a thief would risk stealing? And no, the scene
serves no useful point whatsoever. Then again, none of the scenes in
this movie do.
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So, suffice to say that the thieves are caught robbing the mages'
guild by an apprentice chick, a cutie named Marina. Marina’s master,
who is also Savina’s mentor, just happens to get killed at that same
moment by Damodar because the wizard won’t divulge the location of the red
dragon staff. The old mage's last act is to toss the map with the red staff’s
hidden location to Marina just before expiring.
By the way, Damodar has bright blue lips, for absolutely no
discernable reason whatsoever. Seriously. He looks perfectly human,
but his lips are baby blue, and no explanation for this is ever
offered during the film. It's distracting in every single scene he's
in. I didn't hear any of his dialogue because every time he was
speaking, I was busy thinking, "What the hell is up with
those lips?!" |
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Now, Marina
and the two goobers flee, taking the map with them. Damodar gives
chase. As the heroes run from Damodar's lips, they find a dwarf, who
is so utterly unnecessary to this film that they never even
mention his name. (In the credits, he’s billed as “Elwood.”
That’s right, Elwood the dwarf. I think it’s for the best that we
never heard this during the film.) His function in the film seems to
be to wear a stupid-ass helmet and squint through a red beard,
thereby proving that he's a dwarf. You think I'm exaggerating when I
say he does nothing else at all in the film, but that's about
it. Did I
mention that this 'dwarf' is about 5'8"? Also, his beard noticeably
changes hue repeatedly from dull red to bright orange from scene to
scene throughout the movie. Oh, and his battle axe is obviously
styrofoam. Couldn’t even spring for an aluminum one from the BudK
catalog, eh, guys?
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We have the obligatory Tavern Scene, where the party hides out from
Damodar while trying to read the map. Solomon obviously tried to
recreate the exotic theme of the Star Wars cantina here, as the
camera pans over dozens of beings partying down. There are halflings,
and what I guess is an orc, and lots of peasants and dancing girls, but
there are also many random, ugly humanoid guys which have absolutely
no basis in any known D&D species. Once again, Solomon displays no
knowledge whatsoever of traditional D&D material or flavor. His idea
of interesting is to let his costume crew outfit all the extras in
$3.75 worth of crappy costumes, regardless of whether the result
looks even remotely like something from the game. One or two of the
“monsters” in the tavern are guys with
furry pieces of material over their faces, like werewolf masks some
third grader’s mom made out of an old angora sweater (and I’m not
exaggerating the utter crapalaciousness of their get-ups.) The sad part
is that the orc, or whatever the green armored guy is supposed to
be, actually looks pretty damn cool, but we barely see him. And what’s an orc doing in the middle of the city in a bar,
anyway? In fact, what are
any of these humanoid monsters doing in this bar?? (Solomon, I already
have a Bigby’s hand gesture for you…)
Speaking of deeply defined races, the Empress has sent
her elf ranger Norda (or Norker or Nordic Trak or something like
that) to secretly follow the heroes too, because... I dunno, she
thinks the heroes are criminals or some shit, who are going to steal
the red staff to use for themselves. I don't really know why the
hell she's trudging along behind these idiots, to be honest. At this
point in the film I stopped trying to make sense of the "story
line". At any rate. She shows up in the tavern, and Snails begins
hitting on her.
Anyway, the elves are portrayed in the movie as:
1) humans with pointy ears (as is the case with
Norda), or
2) freaks wearing half-eaten animal skulls as
hats, who speak what sounds suspiciously like a Slovak language.

That's as much elvish culture as we get into in this masterpiece of
character development. At least they get their own language, unlike
the dwarf. For whatever reason, Norda teams up with this group of
winners. I suppose on the off chance that they recover the staff,
she can grab it and take it back to Savina. Even though she’s
working with them, she spends a good deal of time up in trees
staring down at them. I would think continuously stopping to climb
trees and watch everyone walk below you would tend to slow you down,
but I’m not an elf tracker, so what do I know?
OK, here’s another bit of movie trivia. For some reason, the next
important scene was cut from the film entirely. You see, the map is
magical. Ridley and Marina get sucked into the map itself while
trying to decipher it in the tavern. There was originally a scene shot that
took place *inside* the map, wherein the plot was laid out, and Ridley
was told by someone else trapped in the map to retrieve a gem called the Dragon’s Eye, which
would allow him to find the staff of red dragon control. However, we
never get to see that map scene, as it didn’t make it into the film.
Instead what we see is Ridley and Marina just pop back out of
the map and announce that they’re going to some other city for this
random gem they need. It doesn’t really make the movie suck any more
than it already does at this point, but Jesus, is it sloppy
filmmaking. It’s like intentionally trying to lose your audience by
hiding a plot twist from them. Also, apparently the missing scene
had set up Ridley as some sort of Chosen One, and laid out some
revelations about his past, but we aren't privy to any of that
either. If you
listen very closely to the expository banter between the characters
as they leave the city, you
can keep up with what they’re going to do, but it’s a fast and
disorienting info dump, seemingly out of left field, and it's hard
to understand why they're doing it.

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So the..."heroes"... head to another city where the Dragon’s Eye is
kept by the master of that town’s Thieves' Guild. When they get
there, their contact is some dude with a bright purple-blue
reptilian head, a skull crest, and three eyes. Now, there are
approximately 70,978 life forms listed in the copious volumes of
Monster Manuals for the D&D game, all of which I as a long-time
Dungeon Master and kobold critic am intimately familiar with... and I have NO IDEA what this doofus is supposed to be. Again, Mr. Solomon, I applaud your
adherence to the game’s thirty-year history. And apparently nobody
in the city thinks it's weird that one guy with purple skin and
three eyes is bopping around. (He's a thief?? Oh, he blends!) |
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Of course, Purple Guy is sometimes accompanied by another dude who's got what
appears to be green magic marker on his face as his makeup. I guess
the costume budget ran out with the third eye for our contact
character. In fact, a great deal of the ne’er-do-wells in this city
have brightly painted faces, which you’d think would mark them as
rather recognizable when out and about trying to pick pockets and
whatnot. Maybe the citizens of this city are just not very aware of
their surroundings, which would be my best and only guess as to how
a brazenly ostentatious “thieves’ guild” could operate here. I mean,
the Keystone Kops could have rooted out the bad elements within a
week.
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Next our… “heroes”… meet the thief king, who says that Ridley can
only have the Dragon’s Eye if he survives a trapped maze. This sets
up a scene where Ridley gets to pull an “Indiana Jones”, cleverly
evading swooshing blades in a narrow passage, gouts of flames from
the walls, a heavy closing portal, a sliding wall, and hell,
probably that Nitro guy from American Gladiators, before yanking the
gem off a pedestal at the end of the incredibly lame maze o’ doom.
Of course, once Ridley exits the maze with the Eye via a simple door
into a hallway, the thief king
double-crosses the gang, demanding the gem for himself.
Ok, wait,
what? Hm. The twist here is s’posed to be that the Guildmaster had never
actually owned the gem, because it was, I dunno, always stuck in the
maze, and the Guildmaster just… I dunno, inherited the maze of
death, and had never actually completed it himself. So I guess he was just
waiting around for some winner to come along and snag the Dragon’s
Eye for him. Or something.
Um… wait.
How the fuck did the Guildmaster have the gem in the middle of his
maze, in the middle of his underground lair, and never own the gem,
again? Because, you see, the entire maze has a spectator balcony
around the top, where the Guildmaster, Marina, and a horde of Crayola-faced thieves followed Ridley’s progress the entire time
he was in the maze below them.
So, why couldn’t the thief king simply walk to the end of the maze,
and hop down off the balcony, and grab the gem?! Or, you know, just
have dismantled all the damn traps? Or, just have walked through
the back door that leads directly into the gem room, where
Ridley emerged?
Arrrrrrrgh! Brain… cramping… up!
Before we have a chance to go into convulsions from the logic knot
of that scene, Damodar and about twenty of his guards appear, also
demanding the Eye. (How they hell did they find the
guildmaster’s lair? Is this the world’s worst hidden thief hideout,
or what?) The guildmaster’s minions attack the guardsmen, allowing
Ridley to run for it with the Eye, but Damodar ends up with the map
and Marina as a hostage.
In order to recover the map so they can see where to take the Eye,
and to rescue Marina, our …”heroes”… wind up sneaking into the
ruined castle where Damodar’s camped out. Ridley and Snails are
going in. The dwarf prepares to go with them, but is stopped by
Norda, who makes the sage statement that, “This is a task they must
do alone.”
What the…? Where did that come from? I’m quite sure Norda’s
not going because she has no true relationship with these dumbasses
and couldn’t care less if Marina is saved. In fact, it’s to the
Empress’ benefit if the staff is never recovered, so why would Norda
help these bozos in any way? So I’m surmising that she stops the
dwarf so that the two thieves have an exponentially greater chance
of getting capped on the way in. That would actually make sense,
right? (I mean, if you’ve stayed conscious long enough to follow
this bullshit plot.) But what’s this mystic oracle schtick she’s
pulling? And why does the dwarf, who doesn’t even like elves, simply
shrug and accept this bizarre proclamation?!
OK, ok, stop trying to follow the plot based on, you know, a sense
of coherency. Let’s move on.
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The castle, we soon see, is guarded by...beholders! YES! Some of the
nastiest and most fearsome bastards in the book! Beholders can make
the most experienced adventurers soil their pantaloons; they’re
giant levitating spheres with gaping maws full of devastating teeth,
and they have rows of eyeballs on stalks, and each of the eyeballs
can fire off nasty spell-like powers such as fear, cause serious
wounds, telekinesis, and the horrific disintegrate.
Now we're talking about some action, right?
HA!
The beholders are in the film for about 16 seconds.
Altogether. (Yes, I timed it.) Apparently in his ten-year
fundraising quest, Solomon didn’t come up with the scratch for
awesome CGI floating heads. (That money will all be spent in a truly
baffling dragon fight later on. Just wait.) |
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So, you want to know how the wily…
"heroes"… get past the
dreaded beholders? THEY THROW A ROCK. And the beholders
all hover off
in search of the invaders on the other side of an archway. And
never come back. (Siiiiigh!)
OK, where was I? Oh, right, the crappy movie...
So, they split up to get the map and their magic user,
and as anyone who’s ever played D&D knows, splitting the party is of
course the best course of action one can take.
(Insert kobold rolly eyes emoticon
here.) In yet one more
display of ineptitude, Snails finds the red rod map after prancing and
flitting around Damodar’s chamber for several minutes like a five
year old ballerina. (I’d really be starting to wonder
about Snail’s sexual orientation long about now, if I gave a shit
about the character.) Snails then promptly steps into a fake-rug pit
trap deviously filled with what looks like melted marshmallows, and gets
hopelessly caught. (Did you catch the part at the beginning
of the review when I explained that thieves in the D&D game are
adept at finding traps? Or at least not gaily leaping blindly into
them? Yeah, Solomon missed that.) Anyway, Snails gets nabbed by Ol’
Blue Lips, to the surprise of absolutely no one.
So there’s a brief chase scene where Snails escapes from Damodar’s
clutches (I’m not sure how; my mind had begun to wander onto more
interesting topics than this movie, such as imagining sorting my
whites from my colors in the laundry.) However, Snails manages to
run straight into a very high courtyard of the ruined castle, with
no way down. Damodar approaches, making it clear that he’ll smoke
the whiney thief if he doesn’t hand over the Eye or the map.
Now,
Snail’s best bet would be to simply wait until the warrior gets
close, then bolt around him and run for the stairs, because from all
appearances, Snails is way faster on his feet than the armored and
sulky fighter, even when prancing. Seizing upon this opportunity to
bolt around his foe, and then tossing that opportunity away like
a hobgoblin’s dirty jockstrap, Snails the dumbass novice thief
instead decides to fight veteran badass warrior captain Damodar.
Siiiiigh. What. The.
Flaming. Hell?
OK, anyway, Snails immediately gets his ass heinously beaten six
ways to Sunday, with Damodar even breaking out some jujitsu moves
just for fun, until Ridley and Marina arrive to interrupt the
pulverizing. And let me say that in this scene, we get our first up
close look at Damodar’s codpiece. Jesus! It’s like one of those bull
skulls strapped on the front of a Cadillac in Texas! Except shiny
metal. This is irrelevant to anything, I’m just stunned by it.
Anyway, Snails tosses the map to Ridley, and Damodar promptly runs
Snails through with his blade, and hurls his dying carcass off the castle
wall.
AND THERE WAS MUCH REJOICING!!
Seriously, I was out of my chair and cheering before I realized this
was supposed to be a sad moment at the loss of a beloved heroic
character. Heh heh heh heh! Whatever, dude. That rocked. Especially
since there was no pressing reason for Damodar to painfully slay
Snails at that point. It was clear that Damodar
simply despised the loser as much as we did.
Ridley, seeing how well his friend had fared against someone who
actually engages in combat for a living, decides, 'what the heck',
and attacks Damodar also. Aaaaand promptly gets a sword driven straight
down into his clavicle. Daaaamn, that looks painful just
watching it! Way to go, Conan. Got ‘im right where you want him, eh,
thief?
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Marina manages to stun Damodar with a magic spell before he can
completely shish-kabob our retarded protagonist, then she conjures
up a dimension door, and the… "heroes"… escape into the forest. Norda takes them to the elven lands, where Ridley is brought back
from the brink of death by… HOLY CRAP, it’s the Doctor! Seriously,
Tom “Doctor Who” Baker is playing an elf elder. His cameo is all of
about ninety seconds long, but still. Good to see him. Too bad it’s
in this film. Anyway, Ridley is given a magic short sword as a gift,
which is not at all like Sting from The Hobbit, nope, no way.
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Once healed,
the gang can follow the map to the cave where the red staff is
hidden. As they try to enter the cave to retrieve the staff, an
invisible wall of force stops everyone except Ridley from
passing. (See? This would have been the time for Nordik
Tracker the elf to spout some crap about Ridley being destined to do
stuff himself. Here, it would be obviously appropriate, and not just
some stuff she was pulling out of her ass to avoid work.) In the
cave, Ridley has a conversation with an animated skeleton, who I’m
assuming is an undead wizard or something. The dead dude gives
Ridley some small talk which may or may not have been in some way
tied to the plot, but, seriously, does anyone give a shit at this
point? I couldn’t even stay focused on who this moldy guy was
s’posed to be. I just don’t caaaaaare! Whoever he is, he also gives
Ridley the staff of red dragon control, which, and I kid you not, is
very, very obviously a cheap-ass plastic Halloween toy from a dollar
store. I would not be the slightest bit surprised if it squirts
bubbles.
When Ridley triumphantly exits the cave, there’s our friend Damodar
and his soldiers yet again. He’s got all Ridley’s motley crew
hostage. And that freakin' idiot moron Ridley trades the staff to
Damodar in exchange for his captured friends. Why? Because Damodar
said he'd let his friends live if Ridley gave him the
staff. Yeah, this is the same Damodar who, three scenes earlier,
stabbed Ridley's best friend through the chest and hurled him off a
castle battlement for no particular reason. (Well,
other than the fact that it was
Snails.)
Good move, Ridley! He wouldn't possibly screw
with you TWICE, would he?
(Sound
of my head banging off the table several times.)
So anyway, Damodar immediately reneges on his word
(surprise, Ridley!!)
and orders the party to be killed slowly. The gang manages to escape
from Damodar’s mook squad, and a bunch of mostly pointless stuff
happens, yadda yadda yadda, and the heroes get back to the mage
city, where swarms of immense gold dragons are attacking.
I don't
know why. The Empress controls the gold dragons with her staff, so
maybe they're attacking just the mages who turned against her? But
there are a LOT of dragons and a lot of fighting for a just couple of
lousy mages. And the dragons seem to be randomly breathing
destructive fire at any building they pass near, whether there’s any
indication that there’s a mage in it or not. And the city of Izmer, for the
record, has more high-rise skyscrapers than any
metropolitan modern-day city I’ve ever seen. These are some
serious high-tech Medieval civil engineers, my friends.
Then Blue Lips shows up, and Profion gets the red dragon staff of
control, and summons a buttload of red wyrms to fight the gold ones,
and there's all sorts of city buildings going up in flames and
dragons crashing into things and whatnot. It's a lot of CGI
animation that could certainly have been better used to animate
beholders, and I don't really understand what the hell any of it
means, but if you get to this part of the movie you'll have given up
all hope and a good bit of your cognitive functions anyway.
In the middle of the bedlam, Ridley enters the bad guys’ command
tower behind both Damodar and Profion. Now, the last thief skill
that you need to know about that all D&D rogues possess is the
ability to back stab an opponent viciously. But to do so, you have
to, you know, sneak the hell up on ‘em. So, being in a position
directly behind his unsuspecting foes, Ridley ninjas up behind them
as silently as a shadow, and strikes with blinding speed, before his
opponents are even aware of his pres…
Oh, fuck. No, no he doesn’t. Ridley yells loudly to attract
Damodar’s attention. Once the warrior has had time to draw his huge
sword and ready himself, that’s when our strategy-master Ridley
lunges forward with the combat skills of a drunken halfling. OK,
truth be told, he’s not really that bad in this scene, for an
amateur, which makes me wonder, firstly, where he learned to sword
fight that well, and secondly, if dueling was a skill he already
knew, why’d he get his ass handed to him back in the castle when he
faced Damodar the first time? Those rational thoughts quickly die
in the sucking vacuum of stupidity that emanates from this movie, so
I press onward, glassy-eyed.
The remainder of the battle looks nothing like that between Darth
Vader and Luke Skywalker in Return of the Jedi, nope, no way. Damodar is a tall,
dark-armored villain whose long sword flashes with red electricity
when he strikes (when the hell did it start doing that?!), and
Ridley’s not-Sting pulses with blue energy when he blocks, as the
two circle on a darkened battleground, Ridley filled with righteous
emotion and Damodar’s raspy deep voice calmly cajoling and mocking
the younger hero with a tone of evil arrogance.
Ridley at
some point snags the red
dragon staff, and begins to use it to turn the nasty dragons to his
bidding, feeling their anger and power coursing through his own
being. He revels in the might, and begins to use it to destroy his
enemies… but then realizes that he’s peering over the abyss into
Neutral Evil territory, and at the last minute he turns from the
Dark Si… uh, from using the evil magic, and instead he breaks the rod
in twain! Totally
original allegorical imagery there, Solomon. (You know, back when it
was done a long time ago, in 1980, in a place far, far away...)
Via the One True Magic of writer fiat, Ridley dispatches Damodar,
and the Empress gets a gold dragon to eat Profion.
In the final scene (yeeeaaaa!),
the heroes stand around Snail's grave as the Empress announces that
indeed equality has come to the kingdom, and that the mages are no
longer the haughty-taughties of the land. Again, we have no clue at
all as to what the hell that means, as nothing seems to have changed, except for humongous dead gold and red reptiles littering the
streets. Then, in the final act of incomprehensibility, Snail’s
name disappears from the grave marker, and the four surviving heroes
standing around the grave are transformed into little flying bundles
of gold sparkles, and they zip off into the air like berserk fireworks.
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT MEANS!!

Did I mention that Jeremy Irons, the guy playing Profion, appears to
be on crack the entire movie? In every scene he's in, he's bulging
his eyes and twitching and babbling about controlling everything,
and gesturing maniacally. I guess he figured if he distracted
viewers with a spastically hyper, overacted performance, they
wouldn't notice what a load of orc dung his agent got him mixed up
in.

Not that the rest of the acting is much better. I’m giving props to
Damodar, though, who’s played as the brooding villainous henchman to the tee, considering the material the poor
actor had to work with. But everyone else was over-emoting like a
third rate small-town improv troupe. Clearly, the fledgling director
Solomon had no experience pulling empathy or substance of any sort
from his actors. Even the main characters in this atrocity come off
as pretty one-dimensional, and the dialogue sounds as though it were
written by a 15 year old, so that doesn’t help their cause any.
The entire movie is the kind of D&D adventure we were having in
middle school, only less cleverly handled. It strikes me as
obviously geared for perhaps the 12-17 year old
demographic. (Slightly retarded 17 year olds, maybe.) I don't know
why I expected more from the movie. I guess I should have known it
was just a limp, poorly-done exercise in name brand marketing rather
than an actual movie about epic fantasy adventure. I think it’s most aggravating,
if not downright insulting, because D&D is such a venerable cornerstone of gaming history, like
Pong and chess, and deserved an actual talented production crew and
an intelligent script. I mean, hell, we can all name a half dozen
popular video games in the past decade that received film treatment,
and all of those flicks were better than this troglodyte turd.
Sigh! Well, what can one do? I'm afraid I've been so
scarred by this portrayal (betrayal?) of the game that we so love
that I may very well need to rent
Hawk the Slayer to renew my
faith in good, cheesy D&D classics. O, Willow, where art thou?!
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