Immortals is the story of the mythical hero, Theseus (Henry Cavill). Theseus is the son of Zeus, who, as afficionados of Greek mythology can attest, used to be the biggest slut in history. That is, before Crush Lardass from Reich Wing radio came along and started labeling anyone using birth control as such. It’s a wonder that Zeus’s whoring around from innocent maiden to innocent maiden didn’t result in an Olympic-strength STD, but let’s return to the movie.
Before he figured out his true path in life, Theseus was just your average, unwashed, ignorant peasant –Astonishingly agile reflexes, remarkably accurate hand-eye coordination, and pecs and six pack abs so ripped you can handwash laundry on them. It would seem that even the lowliest turd in the ancient Greek toilet was an elite athlete. (Or so would be your impression if you spent your time watching men-in-skirts movies from the producers of 300.)
The story goes like this –One day, a bad man wearing Max’s animal head hat from Where the Wild Things Are came to Theseus’s village searching for the Epirus Bow, a weapon forged by the gods on Olympus. The bad man’s name is Hyperion (Mickey Rourke) and he wants to use it to release the Titans who are imprisoned beneath Mount Tartarus as payback to the gods for failing to save his family. Aethra, Theseus’s mother, is accosted by Hyperion’s men in the street. Theseus sees this, and, of course, comes rushing to her defense only to be subdued. Aethra is then killed by Hyperion and Theseus is taken as a slave.
Theseus, along with three other slaves he is chained to, eventually end up at a rest stop in the middle of CGI land that looks suspiciously like an in-ground hot tub. The three slaves all squat down to sip water from the hot tub while Theseus, too exhausted to drink, passes out against the wall. Before long, four figures in boxy attire wearing lampshades on their heads are admitted to the hot tub as well.
Just as you are thinking you’ve seen these people before in a Target commercial, one of the lampshade wearing people nearly trips over Theseus’s foot. The accidental touch results in a such an orgasmic shock to the system that the figure removes her lampshade and lasciviously sucks up a some water with her hand from the hot tub. She then nonchalantly saunters over to where Theseus is passed out and spits the water into his mouth. (Apparently the hot tub staff hadn’t replenished the paper cups). This partially revives him before Hyperion’s men come along and hurriedly escort the four Target commercial extras out of the hot tub room.
Within 24 hours, Theseus not only fully recovers from his near-death exhaustion, but he also manages to get busy with Phaedra the Oracle, who, as fate would have it, is also a virgin. Well, not for long, anyway. But you just knew from the time she tripped over Theseus’s foot at the hot tub and nearly lapsed into an orgasm coma that she was going to bone him.
The sex scene between Phaedra and Theseus was about as stimulating as watching flies f!ck. While Phaedra’s naked parts were cloaked in shadow, the camera spent plenty of time lingering over Theseus’s spotlighted pecs and happy trail, which seems to be standard operating procedure for films in this particular genre. I haven’t decided whether this is due to the fact that the director may be gay, or that he is just trying to be politically correct. Then again, this is a movie featuring sweaty, buffed out beefcake actors. It only goes to reason that if same was the sole reason you wanted to see the movie, then you probably also think that half-naked men rolling around on the floor with each other is erotic. But I digress.
Meanwhile, that whole part about Phaedra’s prophecies becoming corrupted if she were no longer a virgin mysteriously falls by the wayside I suppose because her visions were no longer useful to the rest of the movie.
In the next shot, when Theseus, Phaedra and company emerge into a wide angle shot, they are on top of a huge mountain overlooking a steep drop. One almost expects Theseus to triumphantly shout, “I f!cked the virgin Oracle!” Instead, Phaedra mumbles something about a missed period. The movie progresses along in an unidentifiable and completely pointless arc filled with cheesy lines and even cheesier characters. Before long, Theseus eventually finds the Epirus Bow, but loses it to Hyperion.
Long story short – Theseus persuades the men of a village to fight with him against Hyperion’s forces. Hyperion himself ends up setting free the Titans with the bow, and then proceeds to fight Theseus mano-a-mano while Zeus and Athena et al. fight the Titans all the while clad in their super speshul golden crowns, capes and ruffled panties. (Hey, doesn’t everyone go to battle dressed like this?)
It’s hard not to get the impression that the actors playing the parts of Zeus’s entourage were creaming themselves in eager anticipation of donning the shiny, gold, completely bombastic headgear because it’s obvious these guys aren’t just gay, they’re Vegas gay. In fact, you half-expect Mercury to go tip-toeing through the tulips chasing after the Titans in golden, ass-less chaps while swishing his golden lasso around his head yelling, “Wooo! Wooo! Wooo! Pull ovah! Pull ovah!”
Final Scene: The Titans are bitch slapped and bitch slapped good; Theseus defeats Hyperion, finally succeeding in knocking off that ridiculous hat of his, and, is subsequently teleported to Mount Olympus as his reward. Meanwhile, Phaedra, the deflowered Oracle is walking around a village accompanied by a ten year old boy with a furrowed brow named Acamas. He is looking at statues depicting his father’s great deeds and chatting with the same old man his father knew when he was a boy. (John Hurt).
As much as I wanted to like this film and get all tingly about the usage of 3D technology and post production (over-production in this case) to film beefcaked, Vegas gay men in short skirts with ripped pecs and abs, try as I may, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was watching gay porn.
©2012 Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo™. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Peyton Farquhar and Prattle On, Boyo with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.