Cult classics are a tricky lot, especially when it comes to psychedelic cinema. There's always the chance that a film with a large following will simply fail to live up to the hype when viewed without the assistance of a bag of hallucinogens. All the same, there are times when one comes across an entry in this genre that amounts to more than just a trippy collection of pretty colors set to acid rock. 1977's Wizards is definitely responsible for blowing the minds of more than a few burnout college kids, I'm sure, but that's not to say that there isn't something worth exploring beneath the surface. One of the more tame creations of animation legend Ralph Bakshi (who proved that animation could be used for more than just cheery Disney children's films with such X-rated fare as Fritz the Cat and Heavy Traffic), Wizards paints an extraordinarily out-there portrait of a far-off, fantastical future over a subtextual exploration of morality and the power of propaganda.
The plot in this is a bit much to take in, but I'm going to do my best to sum it all up as succinctly as possible. In the future, the Earth is annihilated by nuclear weapons and terrorism, eradicating all life on the planet. However, over the next two million years, human life begins to re-emerge; those who populate the idyllic good lands regress into humanity's true ancestors, fantasy races of elves, dwarves, and fairies. In the heavily irradiated bad lands, humans devolve into hideous mutants, ogres, and goblins. After thousands of years of peace, two wizards are born; the good and kindly Avatar (Bob Holt) and his brother, the sinister mutant, Blackwolf (Steve Gravers). After many years, the two eventually do battle, with Avatar emerging victorious. His brother leaves for the dark lands of Scorch, vowing to return one day and reap his vengeance. If this sounds like the entire plot of the movie, I think it's worth noting that this is all mere backstory, established within the first five minutes.
The incredibly dense prologue sets the tone for the adventure to follow, letting the viewer know that they're watching something that's about to get very strange very quickly. We then flash a few thousand years further into the future; Blackwolf is still consolidating his power and Avatar has grown old and somewhat cynical. The peaceful kingdom of Montagar has long since outlawed science and technology while Blackwolf reigns as the ruler of Scorch, excavating ancient relics from a time before the nuclear holocaust. One such relic is an old film projector loaded with Nazi propaganda; using the ancient footage to motivate his dimwitted troops (and to traumatize his enemies), Blackwolf puts his plan into motion and declares war on the peaceful free states. It is up to Avatar, the fairy princess Elinore (Jesse Welles), the reprogrammed robot assassin Peace (David Proval), and the elfin spy Weehawk (Richard Romanus) to seek out and destroy the "dream machine", putting an end to Blackwolf's sinister machinations and preventing the second coming of the Third Reich.
I did say that this film went to some far-out places, didn't I? It would be very easy to simply brush this film off as hyper-stylized stoner fodder, packed to the brim with Tolkien-esque fantasy creatures and rotoscoped footage from World War 2 movies, but there's really a great deal more this has to offer just beneath the surface. To write Wizards off as "something cool to watch while high" (or even worse, with the old-as-time "woah, they must have been on drugs to come up with this!") is a tremendous disservice to the clear amount of deliberate thought and imagination Bakshi and company implemented when making this film. There's a reason the plot creates a false sense of build-up towards an anti-science moral, the same way there's a reason so much Nazi imagery is used throughout; Wizards is a puzzle, and it's up to the viewer to put the pieces together. Just about everything we're given serves some sort of a greater narrative purpose, even if it doesn't appear so at first glance.
It seems to be a recurring theme in fantasy fiction that there is no greater force in the universe than generic feelings of love, but Wizards is having absolutely none of that. Make no mistake, love matters a great deal, but the film shows the importance of balance in both beliefs and morals. The good creatures place far too much reliance on love, peace, and harmony, and are thus wholly unprepared for the ruthless enemies that seek to do them harm. Meanwhile, the slovenly mutants are completely devoid of such emotions, and thus end up nothing more than dull cowards with no drive or conviction. This is where the power of propaganda comes in. The propaganda used by the villains is so overt, it's easy to miss that the "good" creatures make use of it as well, albeit through subtler means. It's fascinating how quickly one is able to accept something as egregious as outlawing science and technology as no big problem at first glance; perhaps it's because so much media exists warning us of the dangers of valuing technological progress over nature, but Wizards shows flat-out that both sides of the primary conflict are equally indoctrinated in their respective dogma.
This is, again, where a sense of balance comes into play. The film pokes fun at the superstitions and rituals associated with organized religion, yet also levels with the audience, stating that a silly, complicated moral code is better than no morals at all. We see countless creatures slaughtered by superior firepower, despite their belief in love, magic, and the natural world. In the end, the side that claims victory doesn't win because of their superior morals, but because they are willing to bend and change as is necessary, without losing a sense of who they are. This is a story where the most powerful weapon is literally the use of propaganda; it can be used to inspire both hope and fear, to keep populations complacent or rally them to commit acts of violence. The film inspires the viewer to take a hard look at their own beliefs and ponder whether or not the viewer is just as indoctrinated as those they would call enemies. By painting morality as anything but gray, the nuances of a given conflict are buried and obscured, all in favor of saber-rattling and battle cries, ensuring that a peaceful resolution remains elusive to those who need it most.
While Wizards certainly offers a lot to think about, there are other aspects of the film that don't hold up quite as well. Ralph Bakshi is a legend of animation for a reason, yet while the character designs and backgrounds are sheer works of art, the animation quality tends to wildly fluctuate from good to bad and back again. The voice acting is also relatively hit-or-miss and the plot completely falls apart when viewed as anything other than a surrealist parable on the dangers of indoctrination. It's definitely a cult film for a reason, as I could very easily see someone not picking up what the film is putting down. Personally, I was somewhat lukewarm on it at first, yet I find myself loving and respecting this film more and more the more I think about it. While it's not for everyone, Wizards is most definitely a well-crafted, thoughtful, and thoroughly bizarre work of art that has earned its place of recognition in the annals of animation history.
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