he lived in a savage world in an age of violence in the Hyborian Kingdom. Her name was Red Sonja (statuesque newcomer Brigitte Nielsen) … and her hair was red. Weirdly, Sonja’s home is on fire and she’s collapsed in the dirt outside during her introduction, where a blue fairy-like apparition explains to her how she was coveted by the merciless Queen Gedren (Sandahl Bergman), but her refusal led to the deaths of her family members, the rape of her body by soldiers, and the burning of her cottage. “Vengeance shall be yours.”

As a ceremony gets underway to responsibly destroy a powerful green talisman, the brutal queen and her henchmen, led by Ikol (Ronald Lacey), storm the ritual’s stone chamber, intent on preserving the artifact. A bloody battle ensues between sword-wielding Amazonian priestesses and the queen’s fur-and-armor-covered troops, resulting in the storm-crafting relic – rumored to be touchable only by women – falling into the hands of evil. Thus begins an epic quest to retrieve it for a proper disposal, which will require the fortitude of Sonja, who has been training with a monk-like cult of warriors, governed by the Grandmaster (Tad Horino). And she’ll have to join forces with mighty barbarian Kalidor (Arnold Schwarzenegger, receiving top billing), who knows a thing or two about combating mystical malevolence. “Danger is my trade.”

Understandably distrusting of men, Sonja embarks on her mission, crossing paths with a good deal of eccentric males who modestly complicate various scenarios. Many contribute to an unnecessary amount of levity, however, which clashes goofily with the intention of swords-and-sorcery excitement – especially when she meets the insolent Prince Tarn (Ernie Reyes Jr.) and his portly servant Falkon (Paul Smith), who are both an abundant source of middling comic relief. Matched with the unintentional humor of Schwarzenegger’s heavily-accented ruffian, who spouts absolutely hysterical dialogue – along with Sonja’s own blustering taunts – and this picture is set to struggle with sincerity and severity (though a few moments of bloodshed are moderately ghastly for its PG-13 rating). It also diminishes the concept of a formidable woman prevailing against greater forces all by herself. “You must learn to like men a little better.”

Though the execution is routinely second-rate, the basis on Robert E. Howard characters gives the premise a slight edge over its low-budget brethren and derivatives (this one itself is capitalizing on the successes of “Conan the Barbarian”), while the sets and props and costumes are generally quite impressive. The look of the film frequently overshadows the story and action. A handful of stunts are amusing, but the majority of the duels are the kind that reveal conspicuous stalling in strikes and awkward swings of edged weaponry that are aimed much too high. “I have fought 177 men and only one survived … and he has got no legs.”

In a bizarre coincidence – or perhaps a purposeful casting reunion – Lacey (apparently typecast as a thug who must die horrendously) is just one of three recognizable roles that previously appeared in “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” also including Pat Roach (as warlord Brytag) and Terry Richards (as bandit Djart). Here, they’re relatively forgettable against a backdrop of slightly creative fantasy confrontations, borrowing liberally from Harryhausen types of adventures – and appearing, on occasion, like theme park attractions. A rather sprightly score by Ennio Morricone nicely supplements the transitions between locations of battle, but ultimately this mythological yarn just doesn’t have enough going on to maintain thrills, even with its brief runtime. Continual sword fights tend to grow repetitive and visually fatiguing – less entertaining with every thrust and parry instead of more gripping.

– Mike Massie