When Masters of the Universe broke new ground in 1987, the ground did not give away easily. There was resistance to it, an immediate and outraged dismissal by most in the world of entertainment. Audiences, even those who were still fans of the He-Man franchise, were not sure what to make of it. This has never been more apparent than in one article from the Chicago Tribune. Though noteworthy for being one of the most positive immediate reviews of the film, it’s still titled “Surprise! ‘Masters’ Isn’t Bad.”
“‘Masters of the Universe’ claims the distinction of being ‘the first live-action film created from a toy line,’” the first sentence reads. In the second, this distinction is called a “dubious pedigree.”1 Although the rest of the article is practically glowing compared to the other reviews, the newspaper’s point was made clear right away: toys were considered beneath the esteemed world of cinema. Even the rest of Cannon Films’ B-movie output was given the chance to fail before it was judged so thoroughly.
Mattel had faced an uphill battle adapting the action figures into animation years before, but that had turned the franchise into one of the company’s biggest successes. Things did not work out so well in the live-action medium.
After Masters disappeared from cinemas, it moved into the second-run realm where Cannon made most of its money. Its VHS tapes were rented in much better numbers than theater tickets were bought. This was due either to casual filmgoers who were curious but not sold on the film’s trailers, or who were possibly scared away by Cannon’s name or the negative press. Many of rentals also came from repeat viewings, by action movie fans or the devoted He-Man crowd. Cannon had always enjoyed a stronger presence in the United Kingdom given their ownership of theater chains, and this dominance extended to video rental shops. Masters even became the most rented VHS in Britain for a time.2
When the film debuted, it was greeted as an oddity, but as more time passed it began to evolve into something else entirely: a cult classic.
Cult classics have a ubiquitous yet difficult to define part of popular culture. While they were born of the truly transgressive and stigma-shattering films of the 1950s, the term has since evolved into a catch-all for any movie that finds its audience well outside of the mainstream. Most journalists, specialists, and aficionados often refuse to lay out any kind of formula for what makes a cult movie, as they tend to consist of contradictions like “retro-futurism” (as seen in Brazil [1985] or Dark City [1998]) or “so bad it’s good” (like Tommy Wiseau’s The Room [2003] or Troll 2 [1990]). Much of the definition also depends on the eye of the beholder; what is called cult is determined by taste and expectation, which are subjective, to say the least.
Still, several of the same elements tend to occur in most cult classic films: well-publicized difficulties with the film’s production and/or famously disappointing box office return; a sense of nostalgia expressed or encouraged; a tongue-in-cheek tone, or it is so genuinely bad that it becomes fun to enjoy ironically; challenging the audience’s cultural norms and/or genre expectations, or even their ideas of competent filmmaking; and no doubt, the biggest is the role of the audience. Cult film fans are famously passionate about these movies, organizing midnight showings, sing-alongs, costume parties, and all sorts of other ways to encourage the viewing and enjoyment of a movie which may not have been accepted by many others before.
This fan appreciation aspect of cult movies was best expressed by the late Umberto Eco in his classic essay “Casablanca: Cult Movies and Intertextual Collage.” That fans love the movie, he says, is not enough. “It must provide a completely furnished world so that its fans can quote characters and episodes as if they were aspects of the fan’s private sectarian world, a world about which one can make up quizzes and play trivia games so that the adepts of the sect recognize through each other a shared expertise.”3
Masters of the Universe does not fit neatly inside the hazy definition of a cult classic but, then again, many don’t. Firstly, it straddles the line in terms of quality. There’s some camp humor inherent in the naiveté of the teenage couple and the bumbling Detective Lubic. The film’s editing and special effects do not always come off smoothly, and neither does the dialogue from Dolph Lundgren. In their rooftop interaction, Langella’s Skeletor says, “Well said, He-Man,” with sarcasm practically dripping from his words. Goddard seems to encourage a chuckle or two at the actor’s expense.
Despite the unintentional humor, Masters looks objectively fantastic. The design is flawless and unique, bringing lizard-men and magical throne rooms, not to mention a toy franchise, to life. If it had been made with an even smaller budget, or without the talents of people like William Stout or Richard Edlund, the movie might move into the “so bad it’s good” territory altogether. As it stands, though, it just dips in its toes.
It also benefits from the script’s inclusion of Eternian expressions and terminology. Such minutia fill out the world of the movie and provide quotables for fans. There are no songs to sing along with, as such, but it’s easy to picture a theater calling out “I have the power!” as Lundgren raises the Power Sword near the end.
Masters doesn’t challenge an audience’s views on sexuality or gender norms the way midnight movies like Priscilla, Queen of the Desert or The Rocky Horror Picture Show do, and it doesn’t shock the viewer with gore or nudity. As much as the toys and cartoons blurred the world of science-fiction and sword-and-sorcery fantasy, the movie erred on the side of sci-fi. There’s no surprising or innovative take on the genre expectations. While it may not have delivered exactly what He-Man fans were looking for, it’s still recognizably He-Man.
As for the audience, they are not necessarily fans of Gary Goddard’s movie alone. He-Man, as a household name, brought his audience with him to the cinema and no doubt asked their parents to bring home the video tape from rental shops.
Cannon Films brought its own fans, as well. By 1987, the studio had solidified its reputation as a producer and distributor of pure schlock. Their logo marked theatrical posters and cardboard VHS sleeves as bloody escapist action, comically inept low-budget spectacles, and more than often, both. In the U.S. and UK, their films were sought out by those looking for a brainless ninja flick or something to laugh at with friends. This status, along with the name recognition of He-Man and Rocky IV star Dolph Lundgren, was enough to rent some tapes and sell some tickets.
Masters would make appearances in revival movie houses and in other special showings alongside other cult classics, but the preexisting audience from the toys and cartoons set the live-action movie apart.
He-Man fans have had a difficult relationship with the film since day one, and the filmmakers have heard all about it. “The biggest complaint I always got at the time was ‘why didn’t you have ORKO in the film, and what happened to Battle Cat?’” Goddard would recall years later.4
The limitations of the technology and budgetary restrictions were not good enough answers for many young Masters of the Universe fans. While it was generally agreed that Lundgren at least looked the part of He-Man, and most praised the way Langella and Foster brought Skeletor and Evil-Lyn to life, the film’s other elements and innovations were not embraced as well. Fans complained about the time spent on Earth instead of exploring Eternia. Many were torn on the number of new characters, as well. While the look of Saurod and fight scenes with Blade were cheered, Gwildor was not embraced as a worthy substitute for Orko. The series regular Beast Man was included, but he was downgraded to a savage, unspeaking brute. All of his lines in the original script, fans would later learn, were given to another new character, Karg.
If the movie had played things closer to the established tone and look of the cartoon series, many fans grumbled, maybe it would have gone over better. The fans weren’t the only ones to feel this way. Filmation’s Lou Scheimer said he’d met with the film’s producer, Ed Pressman, early in preproduction to ask about the newest adaptation. He didn’t like what he heard.
“As is Hollywood’s style,” Scheimer wrote, “they ignored completely the show that made the franchise so popular with the kids…. I said, ‘You’re f---ing the audience! This is not what they grew up on; it’s not what they want to see. You’re really hurting yourself.’”5
But not every He-Man fan was disappointed with Masters. One boy sitting in the theater was Tim Seeley, who would grow up to become a famed comic book writer and artist. “I’ll always remember going to see that movie with my family in the theater,” he said. “I had just gotten out of the hospital that very day after an appendectomy. I was sitting next to my dad, and the credits rolled up. My dad took one look at ‘Produced by Golan & Globus’ and he said, ‘Oooooh, boy.’ Like, out loud.”
While the producers’ reputation was known to his family, Seeley’s impression wasn’t tainted: “Despite that, I LOVED that movie. Yeah, sure, it’s low budget, and occasionally stiltedly acted, but it’s full of heart and imagination. And the bad guys looks cool as hell. Saurod is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.”6
Future filmmaker Corey Landis didn’t catch Masters of the Universe in the theaters, but rented a VHS copy as soon as it came to video stores. “With respect to Gary, whom I am a big fan of, I was not a fan of the movie,” he remembered. “I’ve seen it several times in the last few years, and I can appreciate certain aspects more with the critical eye of an adult in the industry. I think Langella is incredible in it, and I think a lot of Stout’s design elements are great. But it is NOT the [Masters of the Universe] movie I wanted or want.”7
After the months of costume tests, rewriting dialogue, and traveling back and forth from California during filming, Frank Langella was excited to show his children Masters, the movie he made just for them. “In the end, they couldn’t care less,” he said. “I had a screening for them, and they both fell asleep!”8
Twenty years after Masters of the Universe was released, things began to look very different, yet very familiar at the multiplex. The year 2007 saw the release of Transformers, the first in a series of live-action films based on the toy line that had followed He-Man onto television. Optimus Prime, Megatron, and the rest had made their leap into live-action now as well, but they’d taken their time doing so.
Hasbro’s Transformers animated series ended about the time Mattel’s Masters movie was leaving theaters in 1987, but its toy lines and comic books continued on for years. New cartoons like 1993’s Transformers: Generation 2 and 1996’s Beast Wars achieved varying levels of success, but they kept the brand going strong. The most dedicated fans were kept involved, and the new incarnations even recruited more. Unlike Masters of the Universe, the toy-buying public was never completely burned out on Autobots and Decepticons.
Despite the new toys, new comics, new cartoons and video games, Transformers always belonged to the past. While the brand could keep up with the modern expectations of a cross-media franchise, it always remaining a remnant of the 1980s. So when the nostalgia wave crested higher than ever before in the mid–2000s, Hasbro found itself with a very mutable property, a time-tested product already on shelves, a dedicated existing fan base, and a brand name that would be recognized by those seeking to relive their childhood, no matter if they were a child of the ’80s, ’90s, or ’00s. All of the right pieces were in the right places for Transformers to go to the big screen.
From the get-go, the Transformers film had more in its favor than Masters did a generation before. While Goddard and his crew were given a substantial amount to make their film by Cannon’s standards, $22 million in 1987 was generally not considered to be enough money to bring a movie full of monster costumes, lasers, alien planets, explosions and invading armies to life. The fact that Edlund’s company was not paid for every SFX shot they completed, or that Goddard had to pay out of pocket to complete the last sequence, couldn’t have been a surprise to Hollywood insiders in the late ’80s.
Even adjusting for inflation, the budget for Transformers was astronomical compared to what Goddard was given to work with. The stated amount spent was $150 million, before marketing and other costs, but it was still considered lower than it could’ve been. By the mid–2000s, it wasn’t uncommon for blockbuster action films like this adaptation to be upward of $200 million. Producers called the smaller budget a “bargain” and watched the money roll in from box office receipts.9
Like Masters before it, the first Transformers’ star power was visible but still minimal. Former Disney child star Shia LaBeouf was cast as he was beginning to emerge into more prominent, less child-like roles. The film would be his breakout performance in the second phase of his acting career, allowing the producers to sign him to a multi-film contract for less money than an already established leading man. The love interest would be played by Megan Fox, who was best known for appearing on an ABC sitcom called Hope & Faith. She was signed for cheap before the movie would rocket her to stardom as well.
The other faces of Transformers, like former R&B singer Tyrese Gibson and seasoned character actor John Turturro, were recognizable to audiences without being an actual draw. Academy Award winner Jon Voight showed up to sleepwalk through a minor role as the Secretary of Defense.
The most high profile names attached were behind the camera. Director Michael Bay had already become well known for his shallow, flashy style where image tended to trump the story. His films were often lambasted by critics. Still, he could speak to the mainstream audiences like few others, already having massive box offices successes with films like Armageddon (1998) and Pearl Harbor (2001). The adaptation would also be executive produced by Steven Spielberg, whose input was minimal but involvement was heavily touted.
With actors cast to appeal to the youthful demographic, a director who practically guaranteed a big opening weekend, and the name of one of Hollywood’s modern legends, the only thing Hasbro had left to do was secure the hardcore Transformers fan base with the new renditions of the old characters.
Technology had finally reached the point where a live-action movie starring cars that turned into robots was a possibility. George Lucas’s Industrial Light and Magic, the most sought-after special effects company in Hollywood was hired to bring the robots of life. They were instructed to make the Autobots and Decepticons appear realistic, though recognizable to fans, and to be sure their personalities shone through.
Putting the project over the top in the eyes of Transformers fans was the inclusion of voice actor Peter Cullen, who had voiced the heroic Optimus Prime in the ’80s. Though Bay cast Hugo Weaving to portray Megatron and replaced the other robot’s voices, Cullen was brought back to add some legitimacy in the eyes of the nostalgic. Fans responded very positively to this bit of pandering. Though not all were happy with the alternations Bay’s film made to the tone or characters, the inclusion of the “real” voice of the lead Autobot was enough to make fans give the film their seal of approval.
Transformers was a perfect pop cultural storm. It hit all the right notes and appealed to all the right markets, so nobody was surprised when it grossed well over $700 million. Paired with the special new movie-specific toy line, tie-in comic books and paperback novels, a new video game, and a relaunched cartoon series, not to mention the prerequisite t-shirts and fast food promotions, the movie all but reinvented the media franchise wheel.
That first Transformers movie in 2007 also showed the world that a movie based on an action figure was nothing to scoff at. It was one of the biggest releases in years, and its impact on the way movies are created and marketed in the modern area deserve recognition. The media franchise formula gelled in a way it never had before, but that was quick to be emulated.
Hasbro followed the film up two years later with their other popular, nostalgia-laden ’80s property, GI Joe. Like the Transformer franchise, the Joe figures had remained a constant, more or less, on toy store shelves. They’d had several cartoons since the original in 1985 as well, keeping the new versions of the brand name in the public eye while similarly marketing to the nostalgia audiences with special retro-styled anniversary toy lines. It too was primed for a jump to the big screen. After the success of Transformers, Hasbro hurried along the production on GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra.
The high hopes of the toy company, and Hollywood in general, were visible in the title alone. Unlike the first Transformers film, the Joe’s one featured a colon and a subtitle, warning viewers in advance this would be the first of an ongoing series of films. Perhaps producers had Masters of the Universe in mind when creating Transformers with no such subtitle; the movie could’ve been a flop, so the studio stayed a little cautious. This time, though, the budget was cranked up to $175 million and there was no doubt GI Joe would get a sequel.
By 2009, audiences didn’t blink at the idea of a major motion picture based off of a toy property. They did not, however, embrace cartoonish military action-adventure flick the way they’d fallen for a tale of a boy and his car.
GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra offered little of the fan service Transformers had, leaving the lovers of the toys and animated series cold with the new interpretations. Much of the characters and mythos were altered for director Stephen Sommers’ vision. As the fans grumbled, critics rolled their eyes at the plot holes and lackluster special effects. Hasbro’s second attempt failed to capture the same lightning in a bottle. Though it turned a profit, it was nowhere near as successful as the first attempt, and the inevitable sequel was trapped in Development Hell for several years.
The Transformers film’s own sequel, this one subtitled Revenge of the Fallen, had come out just weeks earlier. It boasted a higher budget, at $200 million, but it lacked the carefully crafted rollout of its predecessor. The film was sloppily constructed, full of pacing issues and plot holes, unintelligible special effects, and as was immediately pointed out by filmgoers, many of the robot’s personalities had been condensed into offensively racist caricatures. While it was torn apart by critics and not-quite embraced by fans, it still pulled in more money than the first one.
The franchise turned out another two sequels by 2016, of varying degrees of quality but both cracking the $1 billion mark in terms of international box office grosses. As Hollywood fell under more pressure to create these massive cross-media branded movies, and multiple sequels and spin-offs and cinematic universes became the norm, Transformers was still setting the standard.
And so, 20 years after it was first attempted, live-action films based on toy brands became culturally acceptable, if not insisted upon. But this book was not written to suggest that Masters of the Universe was more deserving of the success that Transformers achieved. The latter achieved things the former never could, due to advances in computer generated effects and more importantly, timing. While Mattel attempted to strike while the iron was hot, it hadn’t foreseen the immanent downfall of the toy line. Masters was a swing and a miss. Its successor was much more sure in its execution, waiting to accumulate a full generation’s worth of good will and fond memories before taking the leap.
Transformers also had more support from Hasbro, as the company was willing to invest more money to attract the top talent and best special effects to bring the franchise to life. It was also more willing to step back and allow the folks it had hired make the adaptations needed for the live-action medium. In 2007, every move the toymakers made felt confident and surefooted as they expanded the brand across various media to capitalize, and it all came together perfectly. Mattel on the other hand, had been fumbling in the dark throughout every stage of the Masters of the Universe, from toy to cartoon to film. When it succeeded, it was masterful and revolutionary. When it failed, it was an absolute train wreck. Hasbro’s success all came from the benefit of not being the first ones to attempt something risky.
What this book was written to support is the pivotal role Masters of the Universe played in the genesis of the Transformers film franchise, board game-based films like Battleship (2012), and the current Marvel Studios cross-media strategy that has become the norm for speculative fiction franchises. Successful films are not pulled from the ether, whole and uninfluenced. This goes double for an expansive cross-media brand whose spearhead is a live-action movie.
It is noteworthy that the Transformers brand was influenced by He-Man: the toys and cartoons debuted in America after He-Man first braved those waters, and animated series like Transformers fell into the tested mold of He-Man and the Masters of the Universe for the sake of survival. Hasbro merely had to look at what Mattel was doing right, namely a children’s cartoon acting as marketing and produced for five-episodes-per-week syndication, and then try to improve the process to maximize their profits. They did the same with their GI Joe brand, as Playmate Toys would do with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in 1988, and Saban Entertainment would do with Mighty Morphin Power Rangers in ’93.
Masters of the Universe started that trend, just as they attempted to start the trend of the toy-based live-action movie. If Goddard’s film in 1987 had been successful, it is very likely that it would’ve quickly been followed by imitators the same way. Instead, it became a cautionary tale for overzealous toy companies. Along with the collapse of the toy line, Mattel was offered up as an example of how not to market your product, alongside its example of how to market it correctly. While the cartoon was mimicked, the movie was avoided.
This does not mean it was not influential in that way. Development is impacted by failures as well as successes, and more so, a first attempt that failed due to marketing issues rather than quality can teach quite a bit. If Mattel had not flooded the market with He-Man figures and playsets, not utilized frustrating sales gimmicks for expensive toy accessories, and perhaps selected a less shady film studio, the audiences may have shown up. The movie might have grown the brand as it was intended to. It could have been as pivotal to He-Man as the Filmation cartoon had been. There could’ve been a sequel, maybe Cannon’s strange, earthbound one or Goddard’s dream of an epic, Tolkienesque fantasy. The completed movie was more than competent enough to serve its purpose if it had not been undermined from the start.
However disappointing the actual results were, Masters of the Universe occupies an important place in the history of media franchises. The film was the cornerstone in the foundation laid by Mattel, Filmation, and He-Man himself. It may have taken 20 years for the set-up to pay off, and it may have paid off for another company and franchise, but it finally happened. When the second blockbuster film based on a toy franchise hit, it hit big and changed the media landscape forever.
And it couldn’t have happened without He-Man.