Treasure of the Four Crowns (1983)
“In the universe there are things man cannot hope to understand. Powers he cannot hope to possess. Forces he cannot hope to control. The Four Crowns are such things. Yet the search has begun. A soldier of fortune takes the first step. He seeks a key that will unlock the power of the Four Crowns and unleash a world where good and evil collide”. So reads the Star Wars-esque opening crawl for the 1983 3D action movie, Treasure of the Four Crowns. It’s worth noting that when it appears on screen, this text is written in capitals and devoid of any punctuation. The movie is also a Cannon Films production. These facts may give viewers an inkling of what is to come over the next 100 minutes. It is certainly best to abandon expectations of linear, narrative filmmaking. Treasure of the Four Crowns is unique, batshit crazy and yet curiously entertaining.
Soldier of Fortune, J.T. Striker (Tony Anthony), is hired by Professor Montgomery to assemble a group of professional thieves to retrieve gemstones which are hidden inside two ancient and Mystical Crowns. These crowns are a part of four. One is already in the Professor’s possession. The other was destroyed by the Moors when they attempted to access its “power”. Striker recruits professional thief Rick (Jerry Lazarus), as well as acrobats and circus performers Liz (Ana Obregon) and her Father Socartes (Francisco Rabal). They are joined by Striker’s friend and Professor Montgomeries agent Edmond (Gene Quintano). The team must infiltrate a heavily fortified compound in a small mountain village that is home to a religious cult. Its leader Brother Jonas (Emiliano Redondo) has the crowns protected by an advanced and deadly security system.
The aforementioned plot sounds fairly straightforward on paper, but what transpires is nothing of the sort. The film begins with Striker infiltrating an old Spanish castle to the strains of a wonderfully portentous soundtrack written by the great Ennio Morricone. There is no dialogue for the next twenty minutes as Striker is subject to a succession of attacks from vultures, wild dogs, rubber pterodactyls, floatings swords and crossbows, balls of fire, all while being mocked by ghostly jeers and cries emanating from the skeletal corpses of long dead knights. And when he finally escapes with a gold key, the entire castle explodes for some particular reason. It makes very little sense and nothing is explained as to why the castle is booby trapped, haunted or contains prehistoric flying reptiles. There are however more 3D effects in this opening sequence than there are in other entire 3D feature films.
The film then continues in the same vein. Scenes of exposition appear from time to time, linking a series of increasingly crazy 3D set pieces. The key appears to have supernatural powers causing at one point Rick’s cabin to erupt into mayhem. This includes teapots and dried food storage jars exploding in slow motion and showering the camera lens in beans and lentils. The dialogue desperately tries to be hard boiled but often comes off as rather sarcastic as if the very cast are passive aggressively trolling the very film they’re appearing in. When Brother Jonas finally appears he is presented as a Charles Mansonesque faith healer with a cult of armed followers, wearing a mixture of World War II partisan clothing and pig masks. In a scene where he allegedly heals a crippled follower to impress a group of new converts, the rather disturbing atmosphere is quickly mitigated when he clumsily winks at the afflicted to telegraph the fact that the entire ceremony is just an act.
The final act of Treasure of the Four Crowns sees the team assemble a series of cables, pulleys and ad hoc trapeze to bypass the security features in the hall where the crowns are kept. The ominous statue that houses them is inevitably booby trapped and triggers an alarm. Brother Jonas and his cohorts arrive, just as Striker grasps the magical jewels contained within the crowns. The film then strays into another genre as he is possessed, his head spins round and half of his face becomes monstrous. He then proceeds to unleash fire and pyrotechnics as Morricone score desperately tries to apply some musical dignity to the spiralling insanity. Viewers are then treated to several full burn stunts and the laser alarm system turns fatal and starts cutting Brother Jonas into pieces. It is a massive tonal shift that will either delight viewers or invoke their scorn at its preposterous nature.
Treasure of the Four Crowns is clearly designed to ride on the coattails of Raiders of the Lost Ark. 3D films were also a cinematic trend at the time and Cannon Films has already made the successful and equally silly film Comin’ at Ya! two years earlier. The production team behind Treasure of the Four Crowns were clearly only interested in a vehicle that could facilitate a plethora of action set pieces that showcase the 3D format. Like many Italian co-productions from this decade, the prevailing attitude is “never mind logic and continuity, throw everything in, bar the kitchen sink”. So the film goes large with the practical effects and culminates in a singularly bizarre cinematic postscript featuring a pulsing sac which spawns some sort of monster which leaps toward the camera. It is all quite mad and yet strangely compelling. Morricone’s score does much of the heavy lifting. Treasure of the Four Crowns is the very definition of a cult film. If you choose to watch it you’ll either love it or loathe it.
