An epic in name only, this Italian-American misfire is a baffling blend of bad dubbing, worse effects, and mythological nonsense
Some films are so bad they’re good. Hercules (1983) isn’t quite one of them. Directed by Luigi Cozzi (credited as “Lewis Coates” for international audiences) and starring Lou Ferrigno as the titular demigod, this low-budget sword-and-sandal clunker tries to ride the coattails of both Clash of the Titans and the early ’80s fantasy boom led by Conan the Barbarian. Instead, it crashes and burns in a flaming chariot of glitter, synth music, and head-scratching plot twists.
If the idea of watching Lou Ferrigno throw a bear into outer space sounds entertaining to you—and that actually happens—then you may find some ironic charm here. But if you came for storytelling, coherent action, or even vaguely accurate mythology… abandon all hope, ye who enter.
Plot? What Plot?
Trying to explain the plot of Hercules is like trying to diagram a fever dream written by someone who once skimmed a Greek mythology textbook on acid.
In a nutshell: Hercules is born from the gods, raised on Earth, and must overcome various threats—mostly robotic monsters, neon-colored space villains, and plot devices disguised as gods—to defeat the evil King Minos (played by the eternally confused-looking William Berger) and his witchy sidekick Daedalus, who looks like she wandered in from a Flash Gordon cosplay convention.
Somewhere in there, we get magic swords, evil twins, laser beams, interdimensional portals, a woman turning into a snake, and Hercules tossing boulders into the stratosphere like baseballs. It’s like Greek myth by way of He-Manfanfiction filtered through Italian dubbing.
Lou Ferrigno: A Bodybuilder in Search of a Movie
Fresh off his run as The Incredible Hulk, Lou Ferrigno brings biceps and pecs and not much else to the table. He’s a physical presence, sure, but every time he’s on screen, you get the sense that he was cast solely because he looks like Hercules—not because he can play Hercules.
To be fair, Ferrigno’s voice is dubbed over in post-production, robbing him of any emotional nuance (or even the chance to try). The result is a weird disconnection—his lips move, but someone else’s flat line readings come out. He flexes and grunts, lifts styrofoam boulders, and stares blankly into the distance while the plot spirals into nonsense around him.
He’s not terrible so much as wasted—a hulking body with no character behind it, which kind of sums up the whole movie.
Special Effects: Dollar Store Psychedelia
If you thought Clash of the Titans had dated effects, wait until you see Hercules. Cozzi leans heavily on cheap animation, glowing rotoscoped energy blasts, and blue screen backdrops that would embarrass a junior high school theater club.
There’s a space battle involving Greek gods that looks like a Tron knockoff filmed in a lava lamp. The monsters Hercules faces are mechanical abominations that resemble glued-together vacuum parts spray-painted silver. And did I mention the bear? Yes, Hercules fights a bear, picks it up, and throws it into space, where it explodes into a constellation.
And it’s not a dream sequence. It’s played straight.
Direction, Dialogue, and the Dubbing Dilemma
Luigi Cozzi, who had previously dabbled in Star Wars knockoffs with Starcrash, brings the same chaotic energy here. Except instead of leaning into camp, he tries to convince us that this is a serious mythological epic. The result is a tonal disaster. Characters monologue about fate and destiny while wearing what look like disco tunics. Battles happen in slow motion with synthesizer blaring in the background. Nothing feels grounded—either emotionally or physically.
The dialogue is wooden, often hilariously so:
“The power of the moon is stronger than your sword, Hercules!”
That line is delivered without irony, by a villain who is conjuring glowing moon lasers from a crystal. You’d laugh, but you’re too busy wondering how this made it past a first draft.
The dubbing only makes it worse. Lines are poorly synced, awkwardly translated, and delivered with the passion of a bored phone operator. It makes the already thin characters feel like mannequins mouthing fortune cookie text.
Sybil Danning: The One Bright Spot in a Sea of Cheese
To her credit, Sybil Danning shows up as one of the evil henchwomen and does what she does best: look incredible in absurd costumes and deliver campy menace like a pro. She knows what kind of movie she’s in, and she doesn’t try to class it up—she leans in and chews the scenery like it’s made of fondue.
Danning is the only one who seems to be having any fun. Everyone else looks like they’re either lost or hoping the glitter will distract from the script.
Final Verdict
Hercules (1983) is not a good movie—not by any serious metric. It’s a clumsy, bizarre, and unintentionally hilarious mess of sci-fi effects, mythological name-drops, and bodybuilding exhibitionism. It lacks the self-awareness to be charmingly bad and the craft to be genuinely entertaining. The pacing is uneven, the acting is flat, and the visuals are a headache.
But… if you’re a connoisseur of bad movies—if you like your fantasy films with a side of glitter, robot monsters, and groan-worthy dubbing—then there’s some ironic pleasure to be found here. As a legitimate mythological epic? It’s Hercules in name only.
Rating: 3 out of 10 exploding bears
Brawn over brains, spectacle over story, and not nearly enough Sybil Danning to save it.
