While Mark Forrest would eventually come to inhabit the Maciste role like none other, this second entry trades him for Kirk Morris…and that’s not even the start of how confusing some of these stars’ names are. Of course, that’s because hardly one of these names was originally Anglo, with the exception being the movement’s originator, Steve Reeves (also Reg Park). Like the rest, Morris was an Italian, with the less saleable name of Adriano Bellini. Unlike some of the other goons who put the “pec” in “spectacle,” Bellini – nah, I’ll go with Morris – Morris came by his comic book physique without effort. No rash-filled days in the gym for him, Morris was a gondolier in Venice, discovered by producers who were out trawling for ripped, muscular types they’d like to see shirtless…to cast in a movie, that is.
To distinguish himself from the rest of the he-man bestiary, Morris would occasionally dye his hair blonde and perform a bizarre Italian Elvis Presley. I’ll believe it when I see it. Otherwise, he’s just another large man with the same brown beard as everyone else, and not enough screen persona to distinguish himself from a G.I. Joe doll.
Incompetently directed by Guido Malatesta, Maciste vs. the Headhunters (or Colossus and the Headhunters) is a remarkably Z-grade flipside to the relative prosperity boasted by the lavish original, Maciste in the Valley of the Kings. God, seriously, we’re talking Robot Monster levels of brilliance here!
…On further investigation, maybe it’s a spurious example…actually, no, it’s official, but the rapidity and bifurcation of production makes this “franchise” very hard to place in a definitive chronological order. Dates given for this movie even range from 1960 to 1963. Whatever. I have an ulterior, DVD-related motive to watch this one now, so let’s just move on.
Back to how tremendously poor the peplum can look when helmed by a boob. The third generation copy, with its faded, sepia-toned cinematography (surely unintentional, as it was meant to be in color) and incomprehensibly muddled dialogue don’t help. But even so, other examples of the genre present certain ambitions in costuming, set design, whatever. The original Maciste (from the previous series), 1914’s Cabiria, opened with more convincing volcano special effects than this turd manages, despite a good half century in its favor. It’s not even a science fair model doubling as the real thing; it just looks like someone blew up a lava lamp. I’ve seen late night Cinemax movies with better production value than this!
So a tribe of grunting (or at least the audio quality makes it seem so) loincloth types evacuate their island, in a makeshift raft which is put to shame by Tom Hanks’ MacGuyvered craft in Cast Away. And it’s not that this is meant as a 10,000 B.C. pre-historical pic, like the later One Million B.C. (belonging to a totally different movement from the pepla). No, this is meant to be the same opulent Roman-era sword-and-sandals kitsch as Hercules and such, struggling to make do without sets. Just shove some semi-attractive Italians into the wilderness with the barest of clothing, why not, that’s all it takes for a Malatesta Maciste.
And Kirk Morris is unforgivably scrawny, for an ostensible he-man. And no beard either!
…
…To hell with this! I’m watching the “MST3K” version! (YouTube, you are better than Alpha Video.)
Well, that’s a little better.
You know, I’m just gonna run with this one and type it up as I watch it. This movie isn’t worth an excess of suffering, not with its 1.5 rating on IMDb (overgenerous, if you ask me). So…picking up where we left off…
Maciste and his fellow troglodytes drift aimlessly (I know the feeling), and eventually wash up on the shore of some…some damn wilderness place. Like a proper member of the “Scooby” brigade, Maciste our hero suggests splitting up. Have these people never seen “Lost?” And while the buff buffoon is off “foraging,” his even more worthless associates are captured by some relatively clothed individuals I assume are the titular headhunters. So much for “civilization,” when presumable cannibals are your paragon of domesticity. Well…they’re prisoners.
Maciste, for his part, traipses through the Italian equivalent of Bronson Cavern. He too is captured, and brought to the chamber (that is, cheapo tent) of Queen Amoa (Laura Brown). I guess, as per genre formula, she is to be our standard “vile seductress of evil.” Eh, too bad Amoeba – er, ‘scuze me, Amoa – looks rather like an innocent schoolgirl. Of course that satisfies certain other grotesque fetishes, but this is pretty piss poor peplum production.
Oh, wait, Amoa is expositing, and I cannot hear it over the “tappity tap tap tap” of my furious typing (and the incessant riffing of Joel and the ‘bots). Okay, so…she’s good, I guess, and – blah! … No, here it is, we have our token kingdom of the day, Uriah or some such. Not a very nice name. The headhunters are opposed to the Urinians…Uranians…er, Amoa’s people. She asks Maciste’s help. He is an asshole, so he refuses.
Maciste leads his stupid followers away from Urinea, meaning we haven’t even met the headhunters yet. Ooh, I’m excited! Looking at these costumes, they don’t even resemble togas. It’s more like Hawaiian swim trunks! And in keeping with the unintended anachronisms, the group now putters across a freshly cut lawn, complete with mower stripes.
Moving on…Unending footage of people trudging does not good cinema make. It’s like the opening 10 minutes of Manos! And –
Oh, wait, we’re back with Amoa. Stilted exposition talk, Amoa already loves Maciste somehow by dint of his status as the beefcake of the day and – HEADHUNTERS! Whoo!
AD BREAK
At last, something resembling a battle scene. Maybe we’ll get a feat of strength at some point later on. And –
No, wait, we’re back with Maciste now. Despite the hours of trudging, he hears this battle, and intends to go fight…you know, do something heroic for once. Is there a point to this movie? Ugh, I hate directors who barely grasp the genre they intend to profit off of.
Okay, back at the battle. “Skins vs. skins,” Crow opines, due to the complete absence of a costuming department. Meaning, also, one cannot tell one burly idiot apart from another. Not that I was concerned to begin with. God, can you believe we’re 40 minutes into this thing, and this is all that’s happened so far? And…it…goes…on.
I’m starting to think this ad hoc “live blogging” thing ain’t the right approach either.
Maciste is still rushing towards the battle…
No, wait, it’s over. Nice one, hero! Maciste and his toga-clad sidekick whose name I haven’t heard yet discuss things uselessly, so…Okay, detour time, as the movie spools along on its own. We notice, if we’re paying any attention (I notice too) that this Maciste has nothing to do with its predecessor. Different crew, different story, hell, entirely different historical setting (it’s starting to resemble something more, ummm…Pacific Northwest of all things, by way of The Thirteenth Warrior). The old –
AD BREAK
Sorry. The old –
SKIT BREAK
Okay, enough interruptions! The old Macistes, the silent series, were equally loosey with their continuity, trading tones and settings and whatnot with impunity. This was to ease production, and expand the series’ potential. It was the only game in town at the time, though, so it had to cover for an entire genre. These 1960s Macistes were but one of many sword-and-sandal pictures the Italians were vomiting forth. For this reason – interruption, plot update, the headhunter king wants to marry Amoa I think – for this reason there is already considerable variety among the genre entries, trading off Rome for Greece for Egypt for Persia for even (eventually) the freaking Mayans and Aztecs. That guy’s slapping Amoa around! So there isn’t much need to utilize the Maciste character in the same freeform manner. Nonetheless, they have, so there ya go. The “Maciste” name, at least, persists in all the films, which is all that matters.
Okay, back to the movie…
Maciste has trekked off to a conveniently pre-ruined set, which costs minimal $. There is a fake skeleton there. I believe he’s seeking a true king with which to replace that headhunter king. Maybe at some point he’ll get the chance to do something of value. At the very least there’s now a proper set, now that they’re indoors, possibly recycled from some other peplum. No, wait, wait, wait, Maciste’s using strength!...or…trying to. No, there it goes, he shoves a wall over with his mere bulk. Not too impressive. And they’ve found the king. King Olibana (Allesio Pregara). By the way, the headhunter king is called Kermes (Frank Leroy), but it sounds like “Curly.” Making me oft think of the Three Stooges.
They mustn’t have had very much to actually tell in this motion picture, because they’re sticking with this same scene of Maciste and Olibana in this dank pit. Perhaps they’re taking advantage of the one indoors setting available, as Curly – er, Kermes is now here, to boast and brag about – Ah who cares?!
Ignore that; the filmmakers do. To kill time, Maciste leads Olibana out via the same lengthy series of shots he took to get here. And…he’s fighting some dudes! My sweet Ba-al, this is another weak-sauce effort to resemble a proper peplum in all but the most spurious of ways. This doesn’t do much to hide how deficient Maciste vs. the Headhunters is. (I haven’t seen a single head hunted yet.)
Another scene with Curly, back at his camp, as though he’d never been over where Maciste is. This could be fun; the villain is always the campiest, hammiest, silliest fun in the pepla. Not this guy, though, not Frank Leroy. The most exciting performance is Olibana’s, simply because his eyes are closed (to indicate he’s blind). That accounts for actorly variation here.
I’m glad I didn’t try commenting upon this after the fact. This movie is mighty dispiriting.
Olibana announces that Amoa shall marry Curly, for the father always holds the say so in weddings. (Oh, Olibana is Amoa’s father; good thing we picked up on that.)
Maciste sneaks through the wilderness – nope, haven’t seen that one before. As a “feat of strength,” he…he…he breaks off a tree’s twig, something the size of my middle finger. (Middle finger indeed!) Any other Maciste would’ve thrown the entire tree, damn it, and seriously this twig crushes two guys. At least they’re attempting the “crush guys with things” thing.
Maciste discovers Amoa in the headhunters’ own cheapo tent, which looks precisely like the Urinians’ cheapo tent. He performs a loud, inflection-free line which makes me laugh: “You have a chance to get away. Hurry, Amoa, come with me.” Ben Stein is more enthusiastic than this man. Hold up, I’m passing over exposition about the upcoming marriage, slapped in and said sloooooowly to substitute for a potential action sequence. Whoa!, Amoa professes her love for Maciste, for whatever reason, for all he’s done…being what precisely?!
It turns out there’s an interior cave set as well. So I guess we’re gonna spend a whole long while creeping about in this place now, right? Headhunters hunt Maciste’s head, around and around and around and around and around and – look, I’ll keep writing that until the scene ends – around and around and ar- Okay, it’s done.
Marriage ceremony. “Where is Maciste?” Amoa – and the movie – stalls, demanding her father be brought out. Well, that’ll necessitate seeing some lackey wander about… … … … …Okay, Onibaba – er, Olibana is here now. More stalling…need for a dance. Yes, damn it, yes, the Dance is another genre element! I nearly forgot. And – oh God! – a girl in a tulle ballerina suit…thing is just gyrating around, like some hippie’s interpretive dance.
SKIT BREAK (It’s been a while.)
AD BREAK TOO
I take a break too, to visit my toilet.
Ostensibly, they’re now trying to arrange the climactic army battle, and – Back to the dance nonsense. This nonsense deserves a screen cap.
Yeah, in the time it took to JPEG that thing out, the dance hasn’t stopped. I’ll go as I did with before…It goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Yeah, that is exactly the number of beats it took to finish.
Attack! I don’t know where this second, non-headhunter army came from, for surely we didn’t see Maciste assemble them. (See Maciste do something, are you serious?!) And I’ll be damned, there is some honest to Pazuzu choreography to this (they couldn’t spare it for the dance?). Yeah, it seems all the effort of Maciste vs. the Headhunters went into this one sequence – which is still pretty subpar for the course. And I don’t even need to say that Maciste isn’t around for any of this. Kirk Morris, you suck.
Oh, goodie, he’s off wandering in the wilderness. This is dumb.
And Maciste saunters – saunters towards the battle. He sees it…and turns around. Oh, no, wait…it’s the Feat of Strength, in all its anticlimactic…ness. He topples a tower, which accomplishes nothing. And…Maciste in the fray, Morris struggles to deliver actual stunts. A genuine log is tossed.
And the time has come to do final battle with Curly. Fighting him is – You didn’t think Maciste? No, it’s Anoa. As Maciste – I swear – runs off from battle again. I honestly don’t know what the filmmakers thought they were doing with their hero, really. I mean, this isn’t trying to be a deconstruction or anything.
AD BREAK
That does it. The movie’s not quite done yet, but I am. The former Maciste in the Valley of the Kings had some dignity and pride about it, at least as this genre goes. This one barely qualifies as product, made by unconcerned neophytes on all sides of the camera. This is a travesty to rival any of the finest bad movies around, from the no-budget Monogram serials of yore, to the myopic misfires of Coleman Francis and his divine ilk. This represents the evil of a genre (the peplum) growing too big for its own britches, inspiring the most rancid cash-ins imaginable. It’s a shame the mighty Maciste was susceptible to such misrepresentation, given the flimsy copyright laws enjoyed on the Italian peninsula. It’s too soon to tell, but I suspect no consistency of tone in the following twenty-three Maciste movies.
Another problem: Maciste vs. the Headhunters ends without warn-
RELATED POSTS
• The Silent Maciste Franchise (1914 - 1927)
• No. 1 Maciste in the Valley of the Kings (1960)
• No. 3 Maciste in the Land of the Cyclops (1961)
• No. 6 Maciste, the Strongest Man in the World (1961)
• No. 7 Maciste Against Hercules in the Vale of Woe (1961)
• Nos. 8 - 20 (1962 - 1964)
• No. 21 Maciste vs. the Mongols (1963)
• No. 22 Maciste in Genghis Khan's Hell (1964)
• No. 23 Maciste and the Queen of Samar (1964)
• No. 24 Hercules, Samson, Maciste and Ursus (1964)
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