My childhood hero was nothing more than just a laconic dolt
In this weekly series, we look back at our first pop culture loves. The Netflix logline is like a time machine back to childhood: “After being skyjacked to the planet Mongo, Flash Gordon learns that its merciless ruler, Emperor Ming, has plans to destroy the Earth.”
It’s a balmy summer morning and I’m in my office, watching something I haven’t seen in about three decades. It was a family friend in Harrisburg, Penn., who introduced us to Mr. Gordon, by way of a drive-in theatre. And for two hours, under the stars, the “king of the impossible” proved to be just that. Never mind Mongo. Flash Gordon boarded a rocket ship and crash landed in our imaginations, taking up residence with Luke Skywalker and Superman, though with neither the merchandise tieins nor the superpowers. We re-enacted scenes from the movie, turning our bunk beds into a faraway planet from which Prince Vultan and his winged warriors could swoop down to fight Ming.
Random bits of dialogue — “Gordon’s alive?!?!” — would tumble from our flapping gums at all hours, as if we were under an alien spell. The theme song by Queen, which included more lines to be recited, played inside our home so often and so loudly, neighbours must have assumed Freddie Mercury was a houseguest.
That was then. Now, back in my office, my task is to revisit Flash Gordon. This summer, here in the Star’s Entertainment department, we’re running a series titled “Rewind,” in which writers return to a piece of childhood pop culture.
Why did we love that movie or TV show or album or play? And how well does it hold up to adult eyes?
So when the opening titles start to stream, I’m amazed that it feels like I’m watching Flash Gordon for the very first time. I don’t recall the use of stills from the original 1930s comic by Alex Raymond. I don’t remember thinking, as I do several times over the next two hours, that Sam J. Jones, who plays the title role, is to acting what the Triple Whopper is to healthy living.
Did I once really idolize a fictional New York Jets quarterback who mumbles stuff like, “I don’t want to go to any moon. I gotta rescue my friends and save the Earth”?
Even in grade school, with an intellect and sensibility very much in flux, how could I possibly gravitate toward a “saviour of the universe” who was so wooden, so bereft of charisma, so prone to clichés?
From the opening misadventure, when the skies turn crimson and Flash is forced to land a private plane in the greenhouse belonging to renegade scientist Dr. Hans Zarkov (Topol), this childhood hero now comes across as a laconic dolt. When he’s accidentally hurtled into space with Zarkov and his romantic interest, Dale Arden (Melody Anderson), just about everything Flash says or does defies logic.
Save the universe? It’s not clear whether Flash could save a duckling stranded in a puddle.
The first fight sequence is more or less a series of campy football plays in which the heavy-handed comic relief is fumbled. The climactic battle, during which Flash flies a “rocket cycle” that resembles an airborne tin sandal, has the look of an ’80s aerobics video set to the jangling score of a malfunctioning arcade game.
In between, just about everything that flashes and crackles is laughably absurd. I guess that was the point. As an adult, you can appreciate the wink-wink parody and send-up of action and sci-fi tropes. You can understand how this movie, 35 years later, has developed a cult following and why a remake is now in the works. You can even see how Flash Gordon might appeal to cosplay enthusiasts and S&M fetishists.
But what I don’t quite get, all these years later, is why I loved this movie as a boy. Was there really a time when such crude special effects seemed state of the art? Since I was too young to pick up on the sexual tension, the space opera pacing, the parody, what did I pick up on inside this mess of hot hail and lightning fields? Flash, a-ah, saviour of the universe Flash, a-ah, he’ll save everyone of us Flash, a-ah, he’s a miracle Flash, a-ah, king of the impossible Maybe. But what poor Flash could never save us from was the folly of youth.