Even though Conan the Barbarian
had been around since his first appearance in 1932 in the pages of Weird Tales
magazine, it was a little more than thirty years before the most iconic
depiction of him appeared in art form. In
1966, Lancer Books got the rights to reprint Robert E. Howard’s original tales (edited, revised, and/or
completed with the assistance of L.
Sprague de Camp), and the painted covers were handled by the late, great Frank Frazetta. Frazetta’s
visuals solidified the Cimmerian’s look for all the years to come, and they
encapsulated perfectly what the character was all about, being as beautiful as
they are savage. It can be argued that
all barbaric characters created after have followed in Conan’s image, both as
written and as drawn. Now, I can’t say I
know all that much about Turkish comic books (okay, I know nothing at all), but
I believe that I can state confidently that Sezgin Burak’s Tarkan character is likely one that does. If nothing else, Mehmet Aslan’s Tarkan Versus
the Vikings (aka Tarkan Viking Kani
aka Tarkan and the Blood of the Vikings)
does a solid job of capturing the flavor of barbaric adventure stories and
adorns it with enough garish, comic book accoutrements to make for a singular
viewing experience.
Bloodthirsty (and I mean
BLOODTHIRSTY; they gleefully slaughter infants) Vikings led by the
bathroom-mat-wrapped Toro (Bilal Inci)
attack a Hun Turk fortress and kidnap Yonca (Fatma Belgen), the daughter of Khan Attila (who is never seen) and
her squadron of female warriors. During
the assault, loyal friend and loner Tarkan (Kartal Tibet) is wounded, and his “wolf” Kurt is slain. Together with Kurt’s son (also named Kurt,
apparently), Tarkan sets off to exact bloody revenge, more for the murder of
his pet than to get Yonca and the other Turks out of captivity.
Tarkan Versus the Vikings is about as wild a film as you’re likely
to see. The emphasis is on energy,
though it’s not something I would call competent, per se, and combined, they
form the wealth of the film’s charm (from what I’ve been able to glean, this is
the entire modus operandi of Turkish pop cinema). This movie looks like it was edited in a
blender, but here this is a strength not a detriment. The lightning fast, almost nonsensical cuts
form a montage akin to the layout of a comic book page (the key difference
being that, in a comic book, the reader paces the story in tune with the
artist/writer; with this film, the viewer is thrown in and left to his own
defenses). It jams as much as it
possibly can into every minute (nay, second), then tries to pack it all down to
stuff some more in. There’s more action
and convoluted plotting in this film’s initial thirty minutes than in the
entirety of the last three Fast and
Furious films combined.
Additionally, the movie is as
hyper-stylized and scintillating as any four-color comic book (or comic book
movie, for that matter). The
Kraken-esque octopus that the Vikings sacrifice their captives to is as
ridiculous as the titular beastie from The
Giant Claw (also, I couldn’t help thinking that Robert Altman saw this film before making his adaptation of Popeye back in 1980). The Vikings’ hair almost universally consists
of poorly attached, vibrant wigs (one of which flies off an extra’s head when
Tarkan gives him the business). Those
whose hair was merely dyed for the production are even more unnatural than those
wearing hairpieces (they’re not blonde, they’re yellow). Their shields are dotted with radiant puffs
of fur. The female Vikings are decked
out like the flag for the Rainbow Coalition.
To wit, Viking King Gero’s (Atif Kaptan)
daughter Ursula (Eva Bender) is
togged in lustrous pink fur, and so on. This
whole review could simply be a list of every gaudy, slapdash bit of costuming,
scenery, etcetera, but I’m comfortable with stopping at these. Suffice it to say, this film isn’t merely a
comic book projected on screen; it’s a cartoon in live action (ironically
enough, the polar opposite of every blockbuster action film made today).
The film takes an odd perspective
on women. They are generally regarded as
strong and strong-willed. Yonca’s
platoon of female furies that guard the fortress are described as worth ten men
each. Ursula and her shipload of female
Vikings bear as much responsibility for plundering as any other boat full of
seamen. The Chinese villainess Lotus
(the breathtaking Seher Seniz)
commands her minions with ice cold practicality. She also uses her sexuality prominently. She beds down with men she either respects
for their masculinity and/or wants to put in a vulnerable position to drug
(something she loves doing). Her death
strip/dance in the film’s back third is equal parts tense, bizarre, and
titillating. Since these women are posited
as equals to the men in the film, there are zero qualms about killing them in
the same brutal fashion as a man would be.
Needless to say, many a hatchet is planted in a woman’s cranium
throughout the picture. By that same
token, women are also very much sex objects to be used and abused. Women are hung by their hair for
hatchet-tossing practice (sometimes over a pit of vipers, sometimes not). On the Vikings’ big festival day, the Hun
Turk women are brought in to be raped and killed at will (and often at the same
time, as women are stabbed and then groped and kissed as they writhe in their
death throes). Women are whipped often
(but, in fairness, so are men). Despite
what power they are allowed to wield, the women in this film still cater to the
prurient interest of both the male characters and the audience. It’s an uneasy balance (if a balance is even
struck).
If you thought that the
motivation for revenge in John Wick
was a bit farfetched, you’d best strap yourself in for Tarkan Versus the Vikings.
His wolves, Kurt and Kurt, are, in Tarkan’s mind, true Turks, as worthy
of respect and loyalty as any human. The
elder Kurt teaches the younger how to be a good Turk, training him on table
manners (and these dogs…sorry, wolves…eat up at the table the same as any
person would). Kurt’s son helps Tarkan
heal (I assume by finding herbs and shit around the area). The wolves are so equivocated to man, there’s
a sequence where Tarkan and the younger Kurt attack a group of Vikings, and the
viewer is treated to an entire sequence vacillating between Tarkan lopping off
men’s heads and Kurt ripping out their throats.
It feels a bit like a fight scene from the 1966 Batman television show sans the hard Dutch angles and onomatopoeic effects
overlays.
For all its disjointedness and ludicrously
po-faced absurdisms, Tarkan Versus the
Vikings is a damned good time.
Obviously, it will never make a hall of fame for technical prowess, but
every moment of its runtime is dynamic.
It’s a constantly moving predator, like the myth about how sharks can
never stop swimming. I was just a bit
reluctant to dive into this film, but having come out the other end of it a
different man, I feel the need to indulge in as much Turkish pop cinema as I
possibly can. Will it be as entertaining
and worthwhile as this little gem?
Absolutely not, but the first step in finding gold is to just start
digging.
MVT: The energy of the film
is infectious. It sweeps you along like
some half-crazed, drunk idiot friend who wants to hit every bar in a ten-mile
radius. And somehow manages to do so.
Make or Break: The attack on
the Hun Turk fortress. It fully
illustrates where the film’s bloody heart lies, veins and all.
Score: 7/10
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