‘The Gods say all kinds of things, but not all true.’
A volcanic explosion forces a primitive tribe to seek a new home across the sea. Led by a legendary warrior, they discover a new island. However, the rightful Queen has been forced into exile by a traitorous usurper and his tribe of headhunters…
More Peplum shenanigans with muscleman Maciste, portrayed here by Italian bodybuilder Adriano Bellini, hiding behind the name of Kirk Morris. Guido Malatesta is back behind the camera, directing from his own script.
A volcanic cataclysm engulfs the island home of the tribe of King Sandor and leaves him dead in the ashes. His son, Aria (Demeter Bitenc), leads the survivors to the shore with the help of Maciste (Morris), and the group disembark on a raft as their old home disappears beneath the waves. Adrift on the ocean, all look hopeless until they eventually sight land. Unfortunately, there’s no warm welcome waiting from the Urias tribe. The main party is captured, and Morris is shot with an arrow. However, it’s all a misunderstanding explained by the monarch in exile, Queen Amoha (Laura Brown).
The Urias used to live in a City of Gold in the Valley of Heaven, under the just rule of her father, King Olibana (Alessio Pregara). However, he’s believed dead, betrayed by trusted chief advisor Kermes (Frank Leroy). Recruited a tribe of notorious headhunters, Leroy attempted to grab the throne, reducing the city to ruins in the process and forcing Brown and her loyal subjects into hiding in the forest. She believes that Morris is the hero foretold in legend who will lead them to victory against Leroy, but he refuses to help, prioritising the safety of his shipwrecked companions. However, the headhunters attack Brown’s village soon after they leave, and he returns to help.
Malatesta shot this film at the same time as he directed ‘Maciste Against the Monsters/Maciste contra I mostri/Fire Monsters Against the Son of Hercules/Colossus of the Stone Age (1962), taking advantage of the same Yugoslavian locations. Although Maciste’s run-in with the headhunters debuted in cinemas over six months later, audiences could have been forgiven for an initial attack of deja vu as the opening scene of the volcanic eruption is largely lifted from the earlier film; Morris, Bitenc, Asmyn (Ines Holder) and their friends only inserted in the footage here and there and costumed quite differently from the neanderthals being buried in the flames and rocks.
Once out on the ocean, the film starts to drag (a frequent issue), with Malatesta happy to frame Morris posing against some pretty sunsets and looking suitably heroic. Everyone else seems pretty bewildered, which is understandable as volcanic islands are supposed to sink at the end of films, not at the start. Fortunately, they run up against some land, and Morris goes investigating in a nearby forest, where he gets shot in the shoulder with an arrow. His attackers leave him for dead, but, not to worry, he’s up and about again pretty sharpish, and the bloody wound shrinks during the course of the film to where it’s nothing more than a little red mark.
Although the plot develops along the familiar lines of the usual Peplum template, the local situation gets credit for being a little different. Queen Laura isn’t the usual evil schemer either, although she’s ready to spit fire when Morris refuses to help her and when he makes complimentary remarks about her handmaiden, Moana (Corinne Capri). Unfortunately, the headhunters are a complete non-event, simply an anonymous tribe of thugs who act as henchmen for Leroy. Apparently, they like to decapitate their enemies, but all we see of that is some brandishing of axes.
Similarly, the fabulous ‘City of Gold’ has been reduced to some ruins seen from a long way away and a few dungeon sets where Morris discovers the blinded Pregara, who Leroy has imprisoned. His grand plan is to marry Brown and legitimise his claim to the throne. Considering that the Urias have been reduced to a couple of dozen people living in huts, and their city of ‘100 gold towers’ now resembles a few old ruins you might see on a school trip, you might expect him to rethink his long-term goals, but no, his minds made up.
The marriage ceremony brings us to the unquestioned highlight of the picture. Seeking to delay the vows, Brown demands that handmaiden Capri perform a dance as part of the ritual. Three of the headhunters strike up the tom-toms, and away she goes. Given what follows, it’s highly probable that the poor actress was told to make something up on the spot and that her hoofing credentials were somewhat limited anyway. It’s bizarre, awkward, and quite hilarious. Never has anyone failed her audition for the Lost Kingdom Dancing Girls in quite such a spectacular fashion.
The climax sees our heroes going up against the headhunters in a pitched battle, which isn’t well-staged but is surprisingly gory in places. Morris turns up after a bit to join in (I have no idea why he was so late) and pushes over a burning tower, which achieves absolutely nothing. He gets heavily involved afterwards, though, and it is nice to see Brown in the thick of the action too. But it’s a scant reward for an audience who has sat through everything that’s gone before.
It’s not likely that Malatesta wrapped his previous film early and made this one in the time left over at the end of the shoot, but it definitely has a second-hand feel to it. The lack of scale betrays a threadbare budget, and a few lovely images conjured by cinematographer Domenico Scala can’t hide its shortcomings. Morris always struggled to bring any personality to his screenwork, despite being one of Peplum’s most ubiquitous heroes, and the rest of the cast is just as undistinguished. It’s interesting to speculate about ‘Laura Brown’ as this is her only significant screen credit, along with four other minor appearances. It was common practice for the names of Italian performers to be Anglicised when films were distributed abroad, so we’ll likely never know if that was her real identity.
Objectively, this is bottom-of-the-barrel Peplum, but if you can make it through the dull stretches, there are a few moments of cheesy joy.
Mark David Welsh 