This is quite possibly, the worst film I have ever seen in my entire life. I know I throw that statement around a lot, but this is the tops – worse than my usual triumverate of ‘worst’ films, The Flintstones, Prince of Darkness and Showgirls.
Lee Majors is Thorvald, prince of the vikings. He is the prince because he is the only one who has access to a razor – he has that manly 70’s mustache with short hair while the rest of the vikings have full beards and long flowing hair. He is leading a party of vikings to the new world to find his father, the King. It never does say what the hell the King was doing in the new world…
At first, I thought it was going to be an Apocolypse Now type journey down the river, only to find that the King was now the leader of the Indians and was all whacked out and obese, worshipping the spirit gods…nope. Instead, it was the same old ‘rescue people from the bad, bad Indians’ crap. The first Viking party were friends with the Indians, until the Indian girls decided that they wanted to try some white meat…so the Indians blinded all the Vikings and made them slaves. Um, okay.
Why the hell was there a black viking?
There were many scenes of Lee Majors running down the beach – Heroically? Proudly? Majestically? Hell, I don’t know what adjective the director was going for, all I could keep thinking was the Six Million Dollar Viking.