It was the summer of ’87. I can still remember the buzz of excitement as I settled into my theater seat, clutching my popcorn (at least, I think it was popcorn, or it might have been a box of Maltesers) with the anticipation only a hardcore He-Man fan could understand. Like many, I was a collector, and had spent hundreds of hours with my Masters of the Universe action figures while watching the animated series religiously. It’s fair to say that I was salivating for Eternia to explode onto the big screen.

And then… it didn’t. At least, not the way I’d imagined.

The Cosmic Letdown that led to…Redemption?

Let me be straight with you: I hated this movie when I first saw it. Where were Trap-Jaw and Man-E-Faces? Where was Prince Adam’s transformation? Why the hell were we spending half the film in some random California town?

But something strange happened over the years. Each decade or so, I’d revisit the film, and with each viewing, I found myself appreciating different elements that my disappointed child-self couldn’t see. What initially felt like a cosmic betrayal has morphed into a cherished cult classic in my personal cinematic universe.

Skeletor: The Villain We Deserved

Frank Langella’s Skeletor is, without question, the film’s crown jewel. While Dolph Lundgren’s He-Man performance has all the emotional range of a particularly stoic brick wall (which, to be fair, works for the character), Langella’s villain steals every scene with menacing gravitas.

What’s fascinating is learning that Langella took the role because his young son was a He-Man fan, and even wrote some of his own lines. In a 2020 interview, Langella stated: “A lot of people talk to me about Skeletor, which is one of my favorite parts. They always say, ‘Did you feel like you were slumming?’ And I say, absolutely not.”

The transformation Skeletor undergoes in the finale, becoming that golden god-like being, still makes me cringe, though. The costume design and visual effects, however, despite the film’s $22 million budget constraints, ultimately deliver a villain worthy of the Masters of the Universe universe. Well done, Langella.

The Earth Connection: A Blessing in Disguise

Gary Goddard’s decision to set much of the action on Earth was initially my biggest gripe. Now, I see it as the film’s secret weapon. The cosmic key plot device creates fish-out-of-water scenarios that balance the film’s more serious Eternian elements.

One of my favorite scenes involves Gwildor (Billy Barty) discovering Earth food at a diner. Using his gadgets to steal ribs with a grappling hook is exactly the kind of comedic relief that helps ground this fantasy adventure. He even smacks his lips before doing it. The sequence perfectly captures the film’s unique charm – it’s playing in a sandbox of serious cosmic conflict while never forgetting to have fun.

The young Courteney Cox (pre-“Friends” fame) as Julie provides a surprisingly emotional anchor. Her storyline about recently deceased parents adds unexpected emotional weight, culminating in that magical resolution where the Sorceress (and Gwildor) gives her a second chance at happiness. It’s a genuinely touching moment that elevates the film beyond mere toy commercial.

An Aerial Hoverboard Battle: Peak ’80s Action Cinema

If I had to pick a standout action sequence, it’s definitely He-Man’s aerial battle with Skeletor’s troops on those flying disks. Learning that Dolph Lundgren endured “58 nights in a row on this frickin’ disk… in the middle of the winter with no clothes on” makes me appreciate his dedication to what must have been a physically demanding role.

The sequence captures everything great about ’80s fantasy action – practical effects, genuine stunts, and a hero who solves problems with both brawn and quick thinking. Watching He-Man leap from rooftop to disk, then dispatching enemies with the power sword feels like seeing my childhood action figure battles come to life.

Canon’s Ambitious Gamble

The behind-the-scenes story of Masters of the Universe is almost as fascinating as the film itself. The Cannon Group, led by producers Yoram Globus and Menahem Golan, was attempting to transform from a B-movie factory known for horror films and erotic thrillers into a mainstream Hollywood player.

With ambitious marketing that dubbed it “The Star Wars of the ’80s,” Cannon bet big on Masters of the Universe. Unfortunately, the $17.3 million box office return against a $22 million budget represented a significant commercial failure that contributed to Cannon’s eventual downfall.

Still, what emerged from these troubled waters was something unique – not quite the cartoon adaptation fans like me wanted, but a film with its own distinct identity that bridges different cinematic worlds. It’s part cosmic fantasy, part suburban adventure, and completely a product of its time.

Why It Works (Despite Everything)

Looking back, Masters of the Universe succeeds precisely because it marches to its own interdimensional drummer. It’s not slavishly devoted to the source material, which initially infuriated me but ultimately gave the film room to be its own thing.

The limited budget forced creative solutions rather than spectacle overload. The focus on a small core cast (even if it meant sacrificing beloved characters from the toyline) allows for a more coherent adventure. And the Earth setting, while a budgetary necessity, provides a clever fish-out-of-water framework that makes the fantastical elements pop.

Director Gary Goddard, in his debut, managed to create something with genuine staying power despite studio interference and reported cuts to emotional scenes that supposedly brought tears to test audience eyes.

Cult Classic Status

Masters of the Universe now stands as a fascinating artifact in the evolution of Hollywood blockbusters. It attempted what would later become standard practice – translating toy and cartoon properties into live-action films – but did so before the industry had fully figured out the formula.

The film’s post-credits scene showing the defeated Skeletor emerging from some nasty irradiated-looking water to declare “I’ll be back!” was unusually forward-thinking for 1987, predating the now-common practice of teasing sequels that, in this case, would never materialize.

While its Rotten Tomatoes consensus describes it as a “slapdash adaptation” with a “cynical lack of raison d’être,” time has been far kinder to Masters of the Universe than critics initially were. Its distinctive aesthetic and earnest approach have earned it a dedicated following that continues to grow as new generations discover its unique charms.

Finale: By the Power of Perspective

What I’ve come to appreciate most about Masters of the Universe is how it represents a very specific moment in film history – caught between the practical effects era and the CGI revolution, between toy commercial and legitimate cinema, between B-movie sensibilities and blockbuster ambitions.

The film’s flaws are inseparable from its charms. Its compromises and constraints fostered creative solutions that give it a distinct personality absent from many more polished productions. And Frank Langella’s Skeletor remains one of the great villain performances in fantasy cinema – proof that genuine artistry can emerge in even the most commercial ventures.

So while my 10-year-old self left the theater in 1987 feeling betrayed, my adult self raises a mug of Eternian ale to this glorious cinematic oddity. By the power of hindsight, I proclaim Masters of the Universe a cult classic worthy of the occasional rewatch.

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