I love low-budget genre films that begin "Once upon a time,..." because inevitably those films will show viewers a lot more about the times the films were made than the ostensible times the films are set. Of course, to certain extent this is true of bigger budget films of any genre, but those tend either to work harder to disguise the attitudes and biases than inform them or to explore them in a more pointed manner, while low-budget films just let it all hang out.

In the case of "The Barbarians", we can glean much more about mid- 1980s cultural attitudes, biases and styles than we do about the non-specific mythological past the film purports to depict, especially in comparison to similar genre films from the 1960s. "The Barbarians" came out at the tail end of the 1980s Peplum mini- revival, which was sparked by the success of "Conan the Barbarian" starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, just as the 1960s Peplum golden age had been propelled by the success "Hercules" starring Steve Reeves. "The Barbarians" preserves most of the conventions of the genre -- battles with fierce mythological creatures, good-natured boys-will- be-boys tavern brawls, sorcery, feats of superhuman strength, slave girls (but no dancing girls), bodybuilder heroes -- but the hair is more feathered than lacquered, the costumes (for both men and women) are more revealing and some female toplessness is featured, the music is synth-driven rather than orchestral, and the camp sensibility is more obvious and knowing. Most of the actors seem to want us to know that they aren't taking any of this too seriously and neither should we.

Part of that comes from the stars, bodybuilder twins David and Peter Paul (billed as "The Barbarian Brothers"), who made a handful of movies in which they play perpetually bickering meatheads. They were supposed to be funny -- more two-of-three stooges on human growth hormone than Abbott & Costello -- but they never caught on big because of their very limited range, though they do have a low-key jovial screen presence and they certainly look the part of muscular heroes. To overcome their limitations, the film offers high camp from b-movie stalwart Richard Lynch, Eva La Rue and veteran character actor Michael Berryman, each competing with the other to chew more scenery, as well as a host of other mostly Italian character actors some of whom will be recognizable to horror and action film fans. There's not a lot of wit in the screenplay (the best bit, from a reluctant would-be queen: "I'm not a virgin!" to which the sort-of priest who's trying to conscript her responds "We don't have time for such subtleties!"), nor a lot of style to the direction by Ruggero Deodato, better known for "Cannibal Holocaust," but it only drags occasionally despite a rather slow pace. And it looks half-way decent, which is more than you can generally say for a several of the movies from this period. It seems like most of the money spent on this ended up on screen, whether in the set design or in body oil for the stars.

And that copious body oil highlights a key difference between this and the golden age of Peplum cinema. While attitudes about masculinity and femininity haven't change all that much (though the expression of those attitudes has advanced some), you can tell how much more informed this film is by the mainstreaming of gym culture than the films of the early 1960s, when going to the gym and, especially, bodybuilding were sub-cultural phenomena. The Paul brothers make jokes about their size and shape that few would have understood in the earlier era. Their whole shtick was only made possible by the evolution of ideas about fitness that progressed from Charles Atlas to Joe Weider to 24 Hour Fitness, from Reeves to Schwarzenegger and beyond. This isn't a very good film, but it's at least interesting for what it reveals about those shifts.

In a mystical faraway land of swords and sorcery, two twin brothers are orphaned and adopted by a traveling caravan of weirdos. When the nefarious warlord Kadar (Lynch), in a quest for more power, attacks the traveling troupe and imprisons Queen Canary (Bryant) and enslaves the brothers in a work camp, at least some good comes out of it: a lifetime of lifting rocks has turned the two brothers into massively muscular "Barbarian Brothers". Kutchek (Peter Paul) and Gore (David Paul) want to free their beloved Queen, so, along with another newly-freed victim of the wrath of Kadar, a girl named Kara (La Rue), they go forward on their quest. Along the way they meet all kinds of crazy characters and people, not the least of which are Dirtmaster (Berryman) and Jacko (Eastman). Will they slay the dragon? Will they find the magical ruby that fits into the bellybutton of the future queen? Will they argue and make weird, animalistic noises? Find out today! Connecticut's own The Barbarian Brothers truly come out to shine (literally - they glisten) in their first major, starring role. It truly was an amazing time for the film industry and the world of video stores alike - the fact that projects like this could be made and distributed around the world would not happen today. That Cannon would put Ruggero Deodato in the director's chair, and - of all people - The Barbarian Brothers front and center is nothing short of a miracle. The result is a fairly freewheeling journey into a magical land filled with wacky costumes, crazy makeup, and oiled-up meatheads.

It was the 80's, after all, and things like Dungeons and Dragons, He-Man, and the Conan The Barbarian series (he's only ONE barbarian. Here you get two for the price of one) were huge. Not to mention video games like Iron Sword (remember the Fabio cover?), Gauntlet and later Golden Axe. Even the breastplate that one of the brothers wears later in the movie is very He-Man esque. And seeing as how Lucio Fulci directed Conquest (1983), Cannon probably figured, 'okay, this sword-and-sorcery stuff is huge right now, let's get another Italian director known for his horror/gore work and have him run the show'. Deodato provides a weird/wacky vibe, and the whole thing is well-shot in typical Italian style. While Dolph Lundgren was ideal casting for Masters of the Universe (1987) - could you imagine He-Man x2? Well, imagine no longer.

Fan favorite Richard Lynch was good casting as the baddie, and it's probably the only time we've ever seen him with dreadlocks. He must have impressed Deodato after working with him on Cut and Run (1985). Same goes for Michael Berryman, who also appeared in that movie two years earlier for Deodato. Berryman is always cool to see, and he makes some great faces, and has some impressive headgear. Same thing for George Eastman, we always enjoy when he pops up when you're not expecting him to, which happens fairly often. Eva La Rue makes a cute companion to the Barbarians on their quest, and there are some lesser characters with notable features such as a guy who can only be described as "Pee Wee Amidala" (you'll know him when you see him) and a baddie who looks a lot like Bane. Interestingly, in this "origin story" for the Barbarian Brothers, they actually take the time to explain WHY they're so huge, which you don't often see for other meatheads. The brothers themselves have a silly kind of chemistry which has helped earn them a fan following.

The movie fluctuates between childish fun and more adult themes, so it's hard to tell exactly who this was aimed for. Perhaps the ideal audience is immature young men like us. Featuring an uncredited song with the lyrics "Your ruby dreams taste so sweet", The Barbarians remains a lightweight 80's Barbaric good time.

Fun film. The two brothers are complete baffoons, but they manage to save the land. Go figure. Eva La Rue is beautiful. Rent it with a few beers and you'll have some good laughs. I don't quite understand the whole "grunting" thing... you'll understand after you see the film. It sounds identical to the sound made by Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber, when he says "wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world?" Surprisingly, there is some blood, and good deaths, but the best part is when Kadar gets his finger bitten off by a kid. Classic.