This is it. This is, at long last, the GREAT CROSSOVER.
The mightiest of all pepla, conceptually at least, has a name, as lugubrious as one would expect of this genre: Hercules, Samson, Maciste and Ursus (for now on, HSM&U). If that doesn’t say more efficiently than any other possible name “This is a crossover of Hercules, Samson, Maciste and Ursus,” I don’t know what does? (Though it could have added a “vs.” or three.)
This movie’s alternate U.S. title is Samson and the Mighty Challenge, which not only hides any sense of grandiosity, but unfairly marks the thing out as belonging to the frail, emaciated Samson franchise alone.
The idea of combining three of the greatest peplum heroes, and also Ursus, into a single definitive rumble has a certain lizard-like appeal (it’s also attractive to fans of the overtly homoerotic). It would be even more exciting if these four cinematic musclemen were anything more than interchangeable stand-ins for each other, but what’re ya gonna do? Of course, there have already been a few Hercules crossovers, such as with Maciste in Maciste vs. Hercules in the Vale of Woe, and with Samson in Hercules, Samson and Ulysses (spuriously, and not actually a crossover, is the similar Ulysses vs. Hercules). None of these is remotely good, so maybe I shouldn’t be too excited about the prospect of another one with four times the sweaty, glistening muscle. But thank Zeus, Jupiter, Jehovah, or whomever Ursus worships (himself), HSM&U is a fantastically atypical sword-and-sandals!
Don’t get me wrong, it’s still dreadful, near the bottom of the cinematic agora. But at least it comes by these mistakes honestly, forging its own trail of insufficiency rather than just being an uninspired 20th generation copy of Hercules and the Captive Women. I’ve watched in essence the exact same movie every day for the better part of a month, making the rather rancid HSM&U a true godsend. Imagine trying to critique Friday the 13th Part III twenty days in a row; that’s what it’s been like.
Anyway, it can be effectively argued that a crossover doesn’t usually appear until desperation truly sets in. A rule of thumb is the more franchises are in a crossover, the more desperate they are. Look to the crossbreeding of Universal’s monsters, leading eventually to Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, and beyond. (I’d also point out Godzilla free-for-alls like Destroy All Monsters, except such maniacal multi-monster mash-ups became the SOP for Toho.) And surely by late 1964, the accursed Italian peplum craze was truly perishing, already dealt a fatal blow by A Fistful of Dollars and the ascendant Spaghetti Western. Pulling out all the stops, every single major peplum franchise combines here into a hybridized chimera, joining the powers of every series…
Which means HSM&U sucks with the combined magnitude of four mortal pepla.
With a budget paltry even by the standards of Maciste vs. the Headhunters, HSM&U is lucky they could afford a single marquee-name bodybuilding superstar. They did in fact get one, as Alan Steel draws the long gladius and plays Hercules (having only fist essayed that particular role earlier that year, in Hercules Against Rome). This leaves the other three lugs relegated to no-name he-men, obscure even by the standards of this forgotten trend. But we’ll get to those.
For now, Hercules is shown wandering with characteristic aimlessness, until Zeus’ voice booms down from the clouds with moral guidance. You’d be totally surprised to learn this is actually the first peplum I’ve seen which directly invokes Zeus, or any of that puffy cloud and lightning imagery. And lest we think this is one of those compromised American dubs, where Maciste is rechristened “Hercules” since non-Italians don’t know aught about Maciste, remember everyone is in this one, so when they say “Hercules,” they damn well mean “Hercules.” And Alan Steel is Hercules!
Hercules highs his way to the kingdom of Lydia – and don’t even bother trying to redress that Spanish coastal town as something that isn’t 20th century, guys! Around now I start to notice something funny (and not “ha ha” funny) about HSM&U…It is a comedy! OH…NO! Vale of Woe, the earliest such crossover (and the dead worst peplum I’ve seen, possibly excepting Ursus, the Terror of the Kirghiz) also tried to be a comic peplum, and was about as humorous as wildly bleeding hemorrhoids. But somehow HSM&U manages to work in spite of itself (though my standards are ridiculously lowered at this stage), never achieving “humor” but at least totally eschewing hateful, hair-pulling worthlessness. It seems built upon actual genre observation, noting especially its heroes’ personality flaws.
Consider Hercules, a boastful ass who lets everyone within earshot know at every possible moment about his demigodhood, how he achieves the Nietzschean ideal (though a B.C. he-man wouldn’t call it quite that, exactly) and is better than you. Yes, YOU! This is par for the course, which is one reason I’ve silently detested this peplum exercise. But among the characters Herc meets, they all treat him as I would – with anachronistically modern condescension, but with great tact lest he hear them and rip their throats out.
Okay, not every character acts that way – though those that do tip this film’s hand as a would-be comedy. Some people, especially Queen Nemea (Lia Zoppelli) are stupefied in Hercules’ exalted presence, as he prefers. It’s just as well, as this mania drives the plot. For Nemea wishes the Herc to wed her daughter Omphale (Elisa Montés); Omphale is of a sane mindset, and thoroughly opposes this. And would you lookie here! The Italians have discovered that subtle storytelling technique, conflict. Suddenly their stories can movie along naturally!
Omphale, in her struggle to cancel marrying the lunkhead, rigs the local oracle, much as Dreyfus rigged that supercomputer in Curse of the Pink Panther, to demand that first Hercules battle the strongest man on earth. You’ve a one in three chance of guessing this one correctly. It’s Samson (aka שמשון). Despite Hercules’ protestations, he (Hercules) is deemed “not a man” – a common ailment amongst steroid abusers – due to his demigod status. Can you believe they seem to have an actual, functional understanding of Hercules’ mythological history, even if they rather make an intentional hash of the Omphale story? I’d wager (for the first time in any peplum) the writers have done some honest-to-Atlas research, for the previously-unacknowledged mythological factoids which spring up. Amongst that “useless trivia” is the idea that Samson worships a non-Zeus god, namely Yahweh. Yes, they actually pose the Zeus vs. Our Lord debate, even if it goes nowhere. It goes to show they knew the subtext of these movies (or one subtext, at least, as the “gay” thing is never addressed).
I’m heaping oodles more praise onto HSM&U now than I rather expected to. Time to counterbalance that. There are many problems with HSM&U, and an early purposeless set piece with Hercules reflects that. While emissaries are off to Israel (or wherever) to find Samson, Nemea has Hercules perform odd jobs around the kingdom – an actually funny conceit. In one scene, he’s asked to dredge a ship from the ocean’s floor. Do you like uncut, murky underwater footage? Was Thunderball’s climax too short for you? You’ll love this bit, then, which somehow eschews the light and breezy tone most of HSM&U boasts for one of the worst Feats of Strength™ in the genre.
Add to that the out-of-place soundtrack, which for some reason samples Beethoven’s Fifth every time somebody namedrops Zeus. That’s when it’s not doing a lugubrious, anachronistic sci-fi pastiche, an utterly bizarre bit of tunage I’ve tried to transcribe here: “Bam bam BAM bam bam whoohohohohohoho!”
Meanwhile, emissaries are out scouring whatever wilderness this film crew had available for Samson. Finding a particularly sadistic muscleman in a tavern, they enter to find…Ursus (Yann L’Arvor). What, Ursus?! Already?!
Yann L’Arvor…This is just the start of uninspiring casting for the non-Hercules semi-Herculeses.
Ursus is blessed with the sort of personality flaws I’ve always associated with Charles Atlas and his sheep-like followers, namely Ursus is a bully. Though HSM&U uses Ursus in the same basic way as they do Hercules, it’s impressive how distinctly defined Ursus is. Ursus, as a mortal who’s become strong, is simply mean – an entitled, priggish asshole. If there were sand in this inn, he’d kick it in people’s faces. In a turn of events having nothing to do with the Hercules/Samson debate, the innkeeper sends his own emissary out to succor aid from Maciste. This is all a little random, but anything getting all four together in a halfway sensible way would be.
Let us forget about Ursus for now, as Nemea’s men have just found Samson (Nadir “Baltimore” – nadir indeed!)! With the possible exception of the unseen Hercules, Samson and Ulysses, this is the first Samson movie to get right a few facts about the Biblical Samson – which you’d think would’ve happened sooner. Namely, this Samson is the Biblical Samson, strength coming from his long, rabbi-like hair (yes, the “joke” with Samson is that he’s Jewish), and his love for “the jawbone of an ass” (which is a rather tittersome phrase the more it’s repeated).
And Samson is married…to Delilah (Moira Orfei). And let me take a momentary break to admire Miss Orfei…
Hello, Moira! She is truly the “Queen of the Peplum,” having also starred in (and these are just the ones I’ve considered) Hercules vs. the Hydra, Ursus, Maciste in the Land of the Cyclops, Maciste, the Strongest Man in the World, Ursus in the Valley of the Lions, Zorro vs. Maciste, The Triumph of Hercules. A little more broadly, Moira is known as Italy’s “Queen of the Circus,” and for a nation with a La Strada-like obsession with that institution, you know that means something!
Anyway, back to business. That Samson and Delilah are husband and wife, and bicker constantly like in a bad 1960s sitcom (comedy!), seems a sudden betrayal of the historical respect this goofy mash-up has dabbled in. Though great liberties are taken with the story, I needn’t have worried. Soon enough Delilah shears Samson’s hair as he sleeps, rendering him weak, and perfectly recalling the “Book of Judges.” (This was done to prevent Samson from fighting Hercules, and also schtupping the various known whores of Lydia.) With Samson now weak and cowardly and also beardless, his joke becomes just how worthless these bodybuilder types are when not God Mode Sues.
Back to Ursus! He terrorizes the bar more (actually, he never stopped), ordering people to “Dance!” like a villain in a western. To quote him:
“I SAID DANCE. I WAAAAANT MOOORE WIIIIINE. WWWWWIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNEEEEEEE!!!!!”
The great shitheel even takes to hurling people, inexplicably accompanied every danged time by a comedy slide whistle. But the time has come to pay for his Ursine crimes, as along comes the last of our required he-men, Maciste (Howard Ross). Maciste thrashes Ursus, and there was much rejoicing.
As contrast to the irredeemable buffoons that are the other three, Maciste’s persona is his innate decency, which becomes funny wholly by contrast. I’m glad they could work out unique traits for all these musclemen, seeing usually they’re all just off-brand Herculeses.
The emissaries behold Maciste’s Macistean strength – in fact, they note everyone’s comic book muscularity – and opt to take pretty much everyone back to Lydia as insurance seeing as Samson is a sissy girly man now. Everyone has different motives in the inevitable, upcoming Clash of the Four Interchangeable Guys, in an attempt to be a French farce. It doesn’t quite succeed – frankly, nothing in HSM&U is good – but there’s still the effort, and the intention behind it – and that goes a long way in my peplum-addled state. What does it say that this, the best movie I’ve seen in over a week, has a 2.2 on IMDb?
…
Okay, my fat neighbor is having an argument that’d make Hitler weep. She’s fat, loud and vulgar in the best of times, meaning today she’s fatter, louder and more vulgar than ever. I can’t deal with this, not when I wish to simply enjoy horrible movies in peace. I’m going for a nice stroll in the rain.
[Sound of me walking out of the apartment, locking up.]
[Sound of me going down the stairs.]
[Intensely long sound of nothing more than my fat neighbor’s furtive screeching echoing throughout a vacant unit.]
[Many hours later, sound of me ascending the stairs.]
[Sound of me entering my apartment, drying off, resuming Herculean pleasantries.]
Sorry about all that, folks.
Ursus, Maciste, Samson and the emissaries start the trek back to Lydia. Occasional slapstick fights break out, courtesy of Ursus. These somehow result in Blair Witch Project close-ups (also really pixilated) of various bearded men racing through the woods. Really, imagery like this belongs nowhere in an alleged comedy. This signals, for all HSM&U’s noble intentions, a notable dearth of competence, as the badness starts to creep into this effort as it must all late-period pepla.
Lydia is reached, and preparations are underway for the Rumble in the Agora, with assorted soap opera dramatics from Omphale ensuring all four shall tussle for our amusement. It won’t be that straightforward, since for reasons owing solely to the film’s running length, we suddenly meet neighboring tyrant King Inor (Luciano Marin). In a movie that’s shunned the usual tired peplum formulae, this left-field Third Act villain is most unwelcome. Despite the sudden appearance of Deianeira, another of Hercules’ assorted mythological harlots (who does not serve that purpose here), I’ll leave this section alone, as it might cause me unfathomable dismay.
Rather, I’ll skip right on over to the title fight, which duly occurs as though that last paragraph hadn’t happened at all. It’s a pretty sloppy affair (making it still one of the more cogent clashes in the genre), and it’s not a good sign that the pic below is the absolute best image from the whole ordeal.
Then things end with a literal deus ex machina, as Zeus just up and appears (via a ridiculous face-in-a-wall) to tell everyone to just stop and move along. This story wasn’t going to resolve itself anyway, and if I’m being generous I’d say “The Odyssey” ends in the exact same way. The four strongmen ride on, conflict over and nothing gained.
Hercules, Samson, Maciste and Ursus may as well stand as the final monument to an entire dying genre, for as atypical as it is. For the Samson franchise, this was the end. For Ursus, only 3 Avengers remained, and I’ve already saved time by dismissing that one out of hand. Only one more Maciste was to come, which I’ll halfway address in two days. Hercules alone was able to manage two more movies after this, which is appropriate since Hercules was e’er the torch-holder for the pepla, the originator and the best. It is with those two final entries that we shall bid farewell to this era.
RELATED POSTS
• The Silent Maciste Franchise (1914 - 1927)
• Hercules No. 1 Hercules (1958)
• Hercules No. 2 Hercules Unchained (1959)
• Hercules No. 3 The Revenge of Hercules (1960)
• Hercules No. 4 Hercules vs. the Hydra (1960)
• Maciste No. 1 Maciste in the Valley of the Kings (1960)
• Maciste No. 2 Maciste vs. the Headhunters (1960)
• Hercules No. 5 Hercules and the Conquest of Atlantis (1961)
• Hercules No. 6 Hercules id the Haunted World (1961)
• Maciste No. 3 Maciste in the Land of the Cyclops (1961)
• Maciste No. 6 Maciste, the Strongest Man in the World (1961)
• Hercules & Maciste Nos. 7 & 7 Maciste Against Hercules in the Vale of Woe (1961)
• Ursus No. 1 Ursus (1961)
• Ursus No. 2 Vengeance of Ursus (1961)
• Hercules No. 8 Ulysses vs. Hercules (1962)
• Hercules No. 9 The Fury of Hercules (1962)
• Maciste Nos. 8 - 20 (1962 - 1964)
• Hercules No. 10 Hercules, Samson and Ulysses (1963)
• Maciste No. 21 Maciste vs. the Mongols (1963)
• Hercules No. 12 Hercules in the Land of Darkness (1964)
• Hercules No. 16 Hercules and the Tyrants of Babylon (1964)
• Maciste No. 22 Maciste in Genghis Khan's Hell (1964)
• Maciste No. 23 Maciste and the Queen of Samar (1964)
• Ursus No. 7 Ursus, the Terror of the Kirghiz (1964)
• Hercules No. 18 Hercules and the Princess of Troy (1965)
• Hercules No. 19 Hercules the Avenger (1965)
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