Though the rules of the Italian sword-and-sandals craze dictate that any movie released with “Hercules” in the title is therefore a part of the Hercules series, we’re at the point where productions diverge like, well, like the heads of a hydra. That means 1960’s Hercules vs. the Hydra is one of the most spurious entries in this entire Hercules fad. Hell, it wasn’t even made in Italy! It’s French! Not that they play up that fact; nope, the French would never cop to producing sheer escapism, that being something the Italians are much more comfortable owning up to. So here we have a French picture pretending to be Italian pretending to be American. Ah, the demands of the marketplace.
Willing to watch or not, I am unable to watch, as this film’s French origin means it is out of circulation where more Italianate efforts survive. I still wish to devote a day to it, as there’s enough to comment upon.
Hercules vs. the Hydra (or The Loves of Hercules) has something most other Hercules movies could not afford: stunt casting. Oh sure, it still stars an undistinguished bodybuilding non-actor, but even then there’s a bit more to the presence of Mickey Hargitay than that.
Not only is Mr. Hargitay (or “Monsieur Muscle,” as the French credits would have it) another run-of-the-treadmill muscleman, he’s even another former Mr. Universe, much like Steve “First Damn Hercules” Reeves. In fact, Hargitay decided to take up bodybuilding upon seeing Reeves featured on a magazine cover. He then copied his better’s later career all the way into the peplum genre, and from thence into obscurity.
Prior to all that, Hargitay was a Hungarian, who actively fought underground during World War Two (for the good guys). Assorted athletics and marriages make up his pre-strongman life, but the Hargitay Saga wouldn’t start, as far as we care, until that fateful glimpse upon Reeves’ incomparably ripped male physique. God, is it any wonder gay rights came about shortly after the bodybuilding craze?
And about that bodybuilding craze. I feel I ought to provide some context for all this before we get too far into the peplum. It all traces back to Charles Atlas, born Angelo Siciliano, meaning the tradition of he-men switching from Italian to Anglo names is older than we thought. The man essentially invented bodybuilding as a “sport,” the process of narcissistically tempering one’s own body for no reason other than the act itself. How masturbatory! And a disgustingly-bulked out fool called Atlas, how comic book! No coincidence, for comic books made Atlas’ a gymhold name, touting his advertisements for Dynamic Tension and whatnot.
The guy pretty much made a career out of being a bully. Strength is directly equated with social terrorism, as Atlas’ self-promoting ads espouse a Nietzschean notion that might makes right, that the burliest and least evolved among us have it as their duty to give weak doofuses a hard time. The gist of his ads: If you too want the moral and ethical privilege of lording it over scrawny girly-men, worship at my altar, you unwashed peons! And let’s not assume Atlas’ public life was anything but an egotistical game of King of the Mountain. I mean, he fucking named his son Herc! Grounded individuals don’t do such a thing.
But in the ‘40s and ‘50s, there was a certain novelty to Charles Atlas’ disgusting appearance, one others wished to emulate. Hence the bodybuilders, hence Muscle Beach, hence Mickey Hargitay. But rather than these new musclemen being anointed as Masters of the Earth, and granted spontaneous monarchies with which to stomp on lesser sub-humans, instead they got used by the real ubermenschen, the lawyers. Musclemen, far from being worshipped as human Adonises, instead became something akin to circus freaks, natural curiosities to be paraded upon the stage for all to gawk at. Among those subjugating the he-men were Mae West, sex symbol, who created a New York-based strongman revue which was essentially a precursor to Chippendales. And pity poor Hargitay, after winning Mr. Universe in 1955, he had no choice but to pimp himself out under Miss West’s employ.
It is here that he met another mighty sex symbol goddess, Jayne Mansfield, whose entire film career was built upon the premise of having impressive breasts and blonde hair. See Female Jungle, The Girl Can’t Help It, The Burglar, all hailing from the mid-‘50s. So, Hargitay met Mansfield, who became this man’s field. Pumped up on lust and greed and possibly steroids, Hargitay divorced his long-suffering wife I haven’t bothered to name, and wed Mansfield instead. (Their daughter: Mariska Hargitay, of “Law & Order: SVU.”) Thus Mansfield became Hargitay’s next future-ex-wife.
That wasn’t to be until 1964. Until then, they were Hollywood royalty, in that each could manage to get cast in a French rip-off of Italian rip-offs. Yup, Hercules vs. the Hydra is notable for featuring a famously married celebrity couple as onscreen lovers. It’s the Eyes Wide Shut of 1960! And it’s surely his marriage to Mansfield which put Hargitay in this special position, unique among acting peplum bodybuilders. He’d no previous acting experience, and afterwards was only in Promises! Promises! and Bloody Pit of Horror. One, because Mansfield was in it, and two, because it was Italian. (Actually, there are over a dozen other assorted Hargitay appearances, but they hardly warrant mention.)
Well, that’s more than enough context, as I’m just trying to stretch this out to post-worthy length. What of Hercules vs. the Hydra itself? Yeah, what of that movie I haven’t seen?
Mansfield, having abandoned American filmmaking, was well on her way to obscurity, and Hargitay was simply returning from whence he came. Far from their film together yielding any advantages, reportedly the greatest enjoyment to be gotten from Hercules vs. the Hydra is to parse out metatextual tidbits about their personal life. Their inability to act together onscreen surely suggests the domestic problems that’d soon divorce ‘em. Even the public gag they would perform together, which brought Hargitay post-Universe fame in the first place, he cannot do here – so I hear. That gag: Lifting Mansfield over his head, all strongman-like. “Hercules! Hercules! Put me down!” she apparently says, when “Hercules” cannot even gets her up enough to begin with. (Cannot get it up…don’t do steroids, kids.)
Of the story. Despite zero production association with the former Revenge of Hercules, once again it’s Hercules vs. King Eurytus (though the actor this time escapes with his name unknown). Not that he serves so much purpose here, as soon the real villain, Licos (Massimo Serato), kills old Eurytus. Hercules’ wife, another repeating character, dies around the start too, because even a “sequel” like this must make a point of assassinating as many returning characters as possible. It frees up new narrative possibilities, as though they even had to bother. Oh, and that wife this time is now Megara, not Deianeira.
Deianeira’s still in this, though, and what joy that I get to keep typing that unruly name. Now she’s Queen Deianeira, for Jayne Mansfield sure ain’t playing no mere princess or wife of a demigod. Oh nooooo! And even whilst Hercules laments the death of Megara, at the hands of equally-dead Eurytus, he is quick to switch up and happily fall for Deianeira. (Shades of how easily Hargitay left Wife No. 1 for Mansfield in the first place.)
Not that the relationship starts all that smoothly. For reasons having to do with maybe the Wrath of the Gods, or Licos’ convoluted scheming, or arbitrary screenwriting, Hercules must endure the Trial of Themis and hurl axes at Deianeira for a while. She survives this, I guess, and they head off together. Licos continues to scheme, and I’m at a loss to imagine what this schemery amounts to. Political intrigue in pepla is confounding enough when one has seen it; without a film to reference, it becomes downright mysterious.
I’m anxiously awaiting Deianeira’s death, because I know it’s coming. Had it happened sooner, I could’ve said something more cutting about the Hargitay/Mansfield marriage. The possibility of her painful, cruel slaughter arises, when during no-doubt-aimless wanderings they happen upon a ferocious bull…or a sedated, weeping cow painted black. Animal fights rarely come off in the best if pepla, so pitting a “bull” against a “Herc” ain’t gonna work. I picture it mostly like cow tipping.
Next challenger! Enter Achilles (say what?!), who – You know, goddamnit, I don’t remotely want to see how “The Iliad” fits in with this bastardized mythology. Some guy named Achilles (Gil Vidal – homosexual author of “Julian” and “Myra Breckinridge” – no, wait, that’s Gore Vidal) – anyway, this Achilles, who’s not that Achilles, wants to marry Deieisngduaiaiaiaiai- the woman. Bethroval and all. He and Hercules fight, Hercules spares him, Hercules and woman wander off. And Achilles is found dead anyway, by Licos’ hands, but with Hercules framed.
Hercules learns about this frame job. Several hours later, once the slow-minded nitwit has understood what this means, he protests that the dagger which murdered Achilles was in fact left in the hide of the dead “bull.” “Bullshit,” they cry, figuratively, and I for one am astounded that they found an eventual excuse to justify the bull battle. This at least gives Hercules something constructive to do, beyond wander aimlessly and love Deianeira, who still ain’t dead. For now, Hercules’ goal is to find the witness who saw him murder the bull, to prove his roundabout dagger defense. That guy, Philotetes (another figure from Hercules myth, another figure completely misused in film), has apparently decided to do some aimless wandering of his own. For no reason except The Revenge of Hercules did likewise, this includes wandering straight through the fucking Underworld.
All this is just foreplay, the sort of wildly convoluted justification these plot-obsessed pepla utilize to explain their monster fights. For in Hades, Hercules finds the Hydra, when it really ought to be in Lernaea. Misunderstandings of mythological proportions continue, as chopping off but a single of the beast’s heads is enough to kill it outright, rather than simply exacerbate the situation as it ought to do.
By all evidence, the full-scale Hydra is even less impressive (and more immobile) than the dragon from The Revenge of Hercules. Visually, it kind of looks like a green turd.
It’s early yet in the movie, title be damned, and it turns out it was all a big mix-up! The Underworld’s entrance is not wherever Hercules found this Hydra (Lernaea?), rendering all this pointless. Oh well, extends things out, though having reached the titular tussle, I’m gonna parse over the rest with some rapidity. So now Hercules must travel to the Forest of the Dead, which sounds like something taken out of Dante’s “Inferno”– what with the human-like trees and all, looking like a middle school production of The Wizard of Oz.
Past the point of caring, at last Deianeira dies, or she died at some previous point. At any rate, she’s dead. But with Mansfield’s character deceased early, that means a new gal must enter the scene, also played by Mansfield – Hippolyta she is, famed Amazon queen of myth and of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” And Hercules vs. the Hydra. This allows the blonde Mansfield to play a redhead, as Dieanotherday was herself a brunette. That’s “acting.” And Hercules, ever the chaste and monogamous demigod, takes no time in falling for this latest broad, much as Hargitay quickly left Mansfield for a lass named Ellen Siano. Amusingly (to my awful mind), Hargitay’s first divorce from Mansfield was ruled invalid, as it was performed by a conman in Mexico.
I glance ahead in the various plot synopses I’ve found (I do apologize for all this), to see that Deianeira did not die. DAMN IT! Maybe I ought to preplan these things out a bit beforehand. Hippolyta goes the way of all Third Act seductresses, dies, Hercules assembles an eleventh hour army to finally just defeat Licos, and he fights a hairy ape-man, and all is well. And I’m tired.
This movie can kiss my ass.
RELATED POSTS
• No. 1 Hercules (1958)
• No. 2 Hercules Unchained (1959)
• No. 3 The Revenge of Hercules (1960)
• No. 5 Hercules and the Conquest of Atlantis (1961)
• No. 6 Hercules id the Haunted World (1961)
• No. 7 Maciste Against Hercules in the Vale of Woe (1961)
• No. 8 Ulysses vs. Hercules (1962)
• No. 9 The Fury of Hercules (1962)
• No. 10 Hercules, Samson and Ulysses (1963)
• No. 12 Hercules in the Land of Darkness (1964)
• No. 16 Hercules and the Tyrants of Babylon (1964)
• No. 17 Hercules, Samson, Maciste and Ursus (1964)
• No. 18 Hercules and the Princess of Troy (1965)
• No. 19 Hercules the Avenger (1965)
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