There's something about Reg Lewis. Maybe it's his ultra cool (though totally out of place in ancient times) bleach blond rockabilly pompadour. Maybe it's the fact that he sort of looks like a buffed up Rick Moranis, if you can imagine such a thing. Or maybe it's simply the fact that he carries himself with such good-natured goofiness despite being a man who squash most other men like an overripe grape while still keeping one arm free to carry around some beautiful princess. He was the picture perfect Muscle Beach dude. It’s so easy to picture him with his cool guy hair and a bikini-clad beauty on each shoulder. Born in Niles, California in 1936, Lewis racked up a pile of bodybuilding awards before joining up with the infamous Mae West Revue (and in fact continued to rack up the awards well into the 1980s!), where he worked as both a member of the cast and the personal escort and bodyguard for Mae, accompanying her to all the gala events, or at least whatever gala events were inviting Mae West in the 1960s (I have a feeling they were the kind of gala events being MC'd by Paul Lynd).

Fire Monster Against the Son of Hercules sees Maciste in prehistoric times. There are a lot of cavemen capering about, and Maciste has to help a tribe of good cavemen battle a tribe of evil cavemen. He teaches the good guys how to make fire while the bad gang acts like a bunch of bikers. They holler a lot, listen to loud music, and do a lot of that stuff where the hairy main guys are all sitting around with various women lying in their laps or go-go dancing around the hang-out. With the big furs and general behavior, I swear for a minute I thought I was watching the requisite "partyin' scene" from any of two dozen 1960s/1970s biker films. When you combine the biker-esque appearance of the evil tribe with Maciste's rockabilly haircut, you half expect Maciste to challenge the evil caveman leader to a drag race at sunrise or a game of chicken in supped-up hotrods.

Maciste has to fight not just the surly cavemen, but also a hydra and a couple other dinosaur-type monsters. He also gets to woo the princess of the evil tribe, since she herself isn't evil, and as is par for the course, he gets to be tortured. At some point in most peplum films, our humongous hero will be tied up, tied down, buried in the sand up to his neck, or somehow restrained and forced to endure various forms of torture and annoyance. Audiences seemed to love watching the greased-up, stripped-down muscleman heroes bent over a table covered in spikes and whipped mercilessly by some foppish henchman. Whether it was because people enjoyed seeing a tough guy take a licking, or whether they simply enjoyed seeing someone rise above adversity and cast off the shackles of oppression is a question I cannot answer.

S&M fetishes aside, Fire Monster is as top-notch as they come in the bargain basement. Lewis is likable, the plot makes no sense, and there are many boulders hurled at cool looking monsters. And then a volcano erupts.

Labels: Set: Warriors