Conan the Barbarian is John Milius’ earnest love letter to hypermasculine, conservative, teenage fantasies. It’s also a testament to his skill as a director that he makes this inspiration into an widely enjoyable film. The humor and essential relatability of themes of individualism, vengeance and fighting against corrupt power make the film appealing despite its political and social leanings.
The heart of Conan is the visual image of its main character, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger. The former bodybuilder is the perfect casting choice for Conan. In the words of Milius himself: “If we didn’t have Arnold we would have to build him.” Schwarzenegger represents the peak of masculinity: he is jacked, handsome, and successful. The gargantuan Austrian is so visually odd in the modern world he almost seems more at home traipsing about in a fur loincloth. His body is as much a part of Conan’s imagery as the set and costumes, creating a visual sense of the film’s exaggerated manliness and conservative gender roles.
The female characters adhere to these patriarchal gender norms as well. The plethora of scantily clad women seem intended both to appeal to the adolescent male audience and to drive away any potential female audience who might want a character to empathize with. The women Conan has sex with early in the film have neither personality nor character traits. They are merely attractive objects. In a mild improvement, Conan’s eventual lover Valeria (Sandhal Bergman) can swing a sword, is very capable of defending herself and has some personality. Ultimately however, as a woman she must be attracted to Conan, and dedicate herself to his goals. Feminism is not allowed to intrude into Milius’ fantasy world.
Rugged individualism is central to rightwing ideologies, and Milius makes no attempt to hide his political affiliation in Conan’s world. The Hyborian Age is governed by an every man for himself attitude, epitomized by the words of wisdom Conan’s father passes on to him: “No one in this world can you trust. Not men, not women, not beasts.” Though he finds loyal friends, Conan’s vengeance against his father’s killer is enacted with the only thing his father says he can trust: his sword. In the world of Conan, brute strength and self sufficiency triumph over the decadent establishment, as seen in the conflict between Conan and James Earl Jones’s cult leader Thulsa Doom. Conan and his companions are able to take down the snake cult through their virtuous independence, a contrast to the ‘weak’ domesticated collective of the cultists.
With such blatant right-wing, misogynistic messages in the hands of a different director Conan would be a movie only people who hold those views could enjoy. Milius, however, skillfully combines a sense of humor with essential themes relatable to people across the political spectrum to give the film wider appeal. He depicts visceral emotions that are universally relatable on a base level, chief among them vengeance. The villain doing something terrible to our hero or those around them is a particularly powerful way to engage the audience’s emotional connection to the protagonist, and get them cheering for the villain’s demise. Conan sets this up well, depicting the horrific destruction of Conan’s village and the murder of his parents. Most people would probably respond to this incident with retribution, and Conan’s quest for revenge is compelling.
Milius also employs campiness to his advantage. He has the awareness to find the movie’s Wagnerian pomposity funny. Schwarzenegger plays up the humor as well, especially his wide–eyed look of surprise. Perhaps the funniest scene was when an inebriated Conan punches a camel which promptly collapses. This scene doesn’t have any of the ideological baggage present in other parts of the movie; it’s a joke anyone can enjoy. Conan has levels to it, and it is possible to enjoy some and not others. The humor engages an audience that might not otherwise be interested in a conservative sword and sandals story.
Conan opens on the Friedrich Nietzsche quote: “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.” The ridiculousness of this moment got a laugh out of the room when we watched it in class, but I don’t think it is meant to be funny. Milius truly believes this macho philosophy is how the world works, and he thinks that deep down you might too. The most compelling thing about Conan is its suggestion that everyone, regardless of beliefs, is more barbaric than they want to admit.
