I’m not much of a gamer, but I’m pretty sure those who are tend to dislike games that are only composed of mini-games. Inevitably, those mini-games wouldn’t be sufficient on their own, nor do they collectively become a satisfying experience.
Such is the case of 1984’s The Dungeonmaster, a title that makes a bit more sense than Ragewar, which is how it was originally marketed. Seven directors (!) and eight writers (WTF!) string together seven unsubstantial tales, with a wraparound story of these being “quests” a computer nerd must complete in order to free his girlfriend from the clutches of Satan. OK, the character isn’t actually named “Satan” here, but that’s basically who it is—except it’s really just Bull from Night Court.
A dream sequence preceding the opening credits sets the tone for the rest of the movie, with a guy pursuing a scantily clad woman in slow-motion through a set where a lot of dry ice is used. This, and most of the rest of the film, looks like a heavy metal video from the era. Still, it was a shock when the band WASP plays a major role in one of the sub-films.
The woman in this dream (Gina Calabrese) will soon be far more scantily clad, as this PG-13 film has waaay more full-frontal nudity in it than one would expect per the rating.
How did I not know about this movie in my early teens?! That actress won’t be in the picture past the opening credits; however, Leslie Wing (as the girlfriend) will, and she has a couple of scenes in see-through tops which also undermine the rating.
Jeffrey Byron plays the computer nerd boyfriend. Some of his electronic toys seem shockingly prescient. In addition to a computer with which he interacts like it is Siri, he has glasses that electronically display information over whatever he looks at (foreseeing Google Glass), and a Power Glove type thing on his forearm that sometimes acts as a Fitbit and, when at an ATM, seems to act as an early Apple Pay. Please don’t tell me this picture inspired Steve Jobs and the Google people to create their inventions.
This is a lot of effects work for a movie of such obviously low budget. At least this film was made too early for there to be dodgy CGI. But there is some decent stop-motion work, which I always appreciate. There’s even a neat but brief bit of animation, though it wasn’t good enough to make me suspect it was done by Walt Disney Pictures’ Special Photographic Department–and they actually did that animation. Possibly the worst effect is a puppet in one scene. Ironically, this movie was the brainchild of Charles Brand, who was behind the Puppet Master series. Unironically, the puppetry sucked in those films, too.
Let’s get the random observations out of the way. The score is largely functional but unremarkable, except for what sounds like knockoff Philip Glass over the opening sequence. Before our young lovers get zapped into a computer world that is far from Tron, we get a ridiculously long scene of her in an aerobics class. When she stops the tape player, did it actually make a record scratch sound?
If there is a saving grace for The Dungeonmaster, it is that it has some self-awareness and more than a hint of humor. The general feeling I got is “can you believe we’re getting away with this?” Still, it is a bit difficult to tell when it is trying to get laughs and when it is unintentionally funny. At one point, he says he has one word for the villain and that is, “Forget it.” In another moment, Satan tries to tempt our hero with three women and the girlfriend literally cries foul.
This is movie which is difficult to tell what is aiming for, but I can say it largely succeeds as camp, regardless of intention. For example, one scene takes place in a museum of history’s worst people, and yet it has the real alongside the fictitious, with Jack the Ripper next to The Wolfman. All in all, surprisingly more enjoyable than I expected and probably the best time I have had watching a Charles Band picture.
Dir: Charles Band and apparently everybody else he knew at the time
Starring Jeffrey Byron, Leslie Wing, Richard Moll
Watched on Starpix