Of all the trends that have permeated the genre films of 1999, none have been more welcome than that of the Cute Arab Warrior. Just a mere three months after the luscious debut of The Mummy's Oded Fehr comes The 13th Warrior, a heroic tale of Antonio Banderas and his crew of 10th-century Viking Babes. If only our millennium looked as good as theirs! Between the flawless Antonio and a literal boatful of virile, ultrabuff Norsemen who sail through the seas like some Headbanger's Ball from Valhalla, The 13th Warrior is the kind of movie that has you jonesing for Y1K. Sure, they may have cruelly covered Antonio in robes, and a few members of his eclectic team were more Motley Crue than motley crew, but all in all, it's a joy to behold. These men fight. They lift things. They steer boats, boast bad-ass armor and weaponry, and rarely, rarely do they ever speak.
This is all the more fortunate considering The 13th Warrior has a bare minimum of a plot and even less characterization. It's a all-out testosterone brigade, a brain-dead Braveheart which is so beautifully and intensely shot that it plays like the History Channel as seen through the eyes of, well, Die Hard's John McTiernan. McTiernan is the rare director who can base a film on a novel (in this case, Michael Crichton's Eaters of the Dead) and somehow manage to lose nearly all of the words. The plot of this adventure tale revolves around Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan (Banderas), an Arab who during his time in Baghdad wears so much eyeliner he looks like he's going to start belting out "Karma Chameleon" at any second. Thankfully he is exiled from his people and meets up with a group of stalwart (albeit hygienically challenged) Vikings who enlist him to battle a people so vicious they eat human flesh. The Arab bonds with the Norsemen, and together they experience many exciting escapades throughout an uncharted northern land.
This is the other great aspect of The 13th Warrior -- the scenery. As in the sprawling countryside inhabited by cannibalistic creatures who resemble Darth Maul, the foggy oceans populated by Viking ships, and the mountainous regions marked by large totems identical to the twigmen of The Blair Witch Project. (It makes you wonder who saw the advance screenings of this nearly two-year-old film.) All of this is shot in a heroic, brutal style by McTiernan, who may have skimped on the dialogue and storyline but makes up for it in atmosphere alone. The 13th Warrior is a film which appeals to our most primitive longing for muscle and bloodshed and our most nerdy proclivities towards National Geographic. It is not a masterpiece by any means, but it is a strong, invigorating picture full of even stronger men, and that's hard to come by these days.
DROOL FACTOR: With the exception of a few stray Vikings who look like they just returned home from a Winger reunion concert, this movie is an opus to men. Vladimir Kulich as Buliwif was striking, but this is, of course, an Antonio Movie. All bow humbly to the Banderas genepool!
GROSS-OUT FACTOR: Gore in the name of battle, and lots of missing limbs. Also, don't be deceived by the cannibals' initial resemblance to products of the Jim Henson Workshop -- these guys are fierce.
STRONG CHICK FACTOR: Surprisingly there are quite a few interesting gals in this ode to masculinity. The female Vikings are as well-drawn and fleshed-out as their male counterparts (read: not at all), but the real cool chick is the toothless, scary-ass prophetess of Viking fortune.
-- Sarah Kendzior
