By way of a script that could only be considered revenge, Stephen Sommers realizes every nerd's fantasy and puts a star jock to shame. Unfortunately for Sommers, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson still has a day job and a loyal fan base, while Steve-O will always be known as the unfortunate guy who wrote "The Scorpion King."
When an empire run by Memnon (Stephen Brand) conquers the ancient world and inflicts the scourges of public works and science upon the various nomadic tribes, a council of elders decides that Memnon's reign of progress must be stopped. The elders hire Mathayus (The Rock) and his two brothers to assassinate Memnon's sorceress in an effort to destroy the morale of his troops.
The mission is dangerous, but luckily Mathayus and his brothers are assassins for hire and consequently the only remaining members of the Akkadian tribe (thanks James Fenimore Cooper). So if they die on the job, they won't really be missed by anyone. Mathayus and company agree to the council's price (40 blood rubies), and as they set out, a heavy metal guitar solo rears its ugly head and the epic journey begins.
Ordinarily, the parade of action-adventure trope and combat schlock that follows would sit well, leaving everyone's basic expectations met. Unfortunately for all, The Rock can actually act and Sommers can't decide what he wants his script to be. Veering wildly between a parody of the action-adventure genre and a Schwarzenegger flick, Sommers desperately wants us to know that he can write smarter material than this, but he also realizes where his checks are coming from. Too often the plot gets congested while straining to find humor that counterweighs the splatter-free bloodshed and heaving cleavage. The result is a mishmash of anachronisms and meager attempts at jokes that detract from the greater quest.
One moment, The Rock is battling Memnon's assassins with the best weapons that the 30th century B.C. has to offer. He lurks in the shadows like a muscle-bound ninja, killing attackers with sharp things of various shapes while wearing a leather and fur ensemble. Moments later, he's using gunpowder and a catapult to sail through the air, landing in a harem filled with beautiful women in g-strings, who complain about Memnon's reluctance to subsidize birth control prescriptions in his proposed health care reform. To make matters worse, Sommers has apparently just read the Old Testament and insists on making biblical jokes. Sodom and Gomorrah this, Sodom and Gomorrah that. Unfortunately, Sommers never commits to the script either way and the movie's tone remains in limbo between austere and light-hearted that doesn't help anyone, especially The Rock.
Coming off two recent appearances on Saturday Night Live, The Rock has shown himself to be an adept comedian. An ability to mug for the camera and his good humor as a player belie the irrefutable fact that at a moment's notice he could break your face. Unfortunately, the comedy of this quasi-parody is made of weaker stuff. The Rock tries valiantly to bring comedy into otherwise schmaltzy moments in the plot, but he just isn't strong enough. Like the movie's identity, his character's mood swings irregularly: one moment he is overcome by homicidal rage, the next he's wearing that determined look that characterizes Schwarzenegger's most famous parts and the next moment he just wants to be one of the guys. Very little of this plays to his strengths and he comes off looking like a valiant but subdued quasi-hero.
This is Sommer's revenge. As a matter of fact, the only person that manages to escape the wrath of the screenplay is Michael Clark Duncan, who reprises his role as the homicidal giant with a soft side. The only thing that seems to be new is the tribal make up and the leather codpiece!
Even though it's unfair, comparison with previous barbarian movies is inevitable, particularly "Conan the Barbarian." The differences are colossal. If you ask Conan the Barbarian what is best in life, he'd say, "Crusheeng your ehnemees, dhriving them befhor you and heereeng the lahmentaations of ze weemen." After seeing "The Scorpion King," The Rock's answer might be, "Having a wife to love me, a summer home in the Hamptons and occasionally writing a stern letter to those who've wronged me."
"The Scorpion King" has everything you come to see these movies for: gauntlets, oddly placed facial scars and primordial bondage gear abound. Chests heave, teeth grit and oaths are sworn. But because of the movie's PG-13 rating, you won't see the gore that characterized the barbarian movies of 20 years ago. Compared to his linguistically challenged, blood-lusting forebear, "The Scorpion King" is a really earnest soccer mom.
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