City fetishism: The ineptitude to create pure and concentrated filmic energy with respect to marketed property. So, instead of pouting - they thrust unsure characters into a contemporary social structure and rake in the profits as we witness awkward turnabouts. This very legacy of impotent films spans from The Lost World: Jurassic Park to Jason takes Manhattan to even pseudo-Tarzan territory with the sadistic George of the Jungle. This normal fable of eccentric character in an unfamiliar environment is obvious to the fact of fiction but when they pluck eccentricities out of their well-suited environments and place them in commonly used urban areas e.g. New York, things tend to get a little sloppy. Take Jason takes Manhattan for a pathetic example. Sure the idea and tag line gave us a clever marketing scheme and imposable images that are branded forever with the icon of Voorhees but take the product in consideration. Half the film was spent on a boat and the lack of style was impudent upon my visceral fantasies of Jason slashing pesky degenerates.
As autopsied, city fetishism is exactly what had happened to Masters of the Universe but the kicker is that the final product is a film that doesn't feature as many bourgeois individuals as you'd like to anticipate. The curing agent is rather quasi-faithful material that is big on explosions and Lundgren holding plasma rifles with one arm as parodied in Tropic Thunder with Ben Stiller's character as he compromises accuracy for theatrics. This decision wasn't the stake in a grave but rather a driving force to jettison familiarity to the tale of Eternia. Masters of the Universe is immensely entertaining due to the fact that it transforms into a Right Said Fred video by finale that is equally met with light tricks, sweaty muscled men, and primitive ass chaps. Easily one of the most homosexual action films since Commando or the early draft of Starbeast.
So when you have lost faith in mankind, know that you can turn to He-Man to passively assure your survival aided with Dolph's suave brick voice that he uses to woo the metaphorical panties off of Kevin's piece of pie, Julie. Armed with "lazer" weapons and swords that look as if they are made of aluminum, He-Man finds his quest nearing completion when he decides to enter battle with a Skeletor-turned-Midas godlike manifestation of what Galactus should have looked like in the second Fantastic Four film. If you can forgive the "mortality" beset upon the film in dire attempt to connect with a mortal audience, it's rather easy to become immersed into the fantastical swords & magic realm of Masters of the Universe. If this isn't enough reassurance, the logo of Cannon films should be enough to coerce you into favoring this film and weeping for the regrettably one-note career of Dolph Lundgren, who really put a soul into every character portrayed, even when the script offers the original material up for sex trafficking. For a final note let's be honest with each other. Can you actually think of anything more hilariously contrived than Lundgren bellowing "I have the powwwer!"? I can't.