The Adventures of Hercules (1985) – Review

Some movies defy logic. Others defy physics. And then there’s The Adventures of Hercules, which loads logic and physics into a giant paper-mâché boulder and hurls it into space while Lou Ferrigno flexes at the camera.

This 1985 Italian-American fever dream (a sequel to 1983’s Hercules) picks up where the last left off: with Hercules (Lou Ferrigno) living it up as a celestial being. But that can’t last; it seems that things aren’t all that great up on Mount Olympus -or whatever celestial habitat this film is passing off as the home of the gods – and Herc will have to handle a classic cosmic dilemma. Turns out that Zeus (Claudio Cassinelli), the father of the gods, has had his Seven Mighty Thunderbolts stolen by a quartet of pissy gods: Aphrodite (Margie Newton), Hera (Maria Rosaria Omaggio), Poseidon (Ferdinando Poggi), and… Flora (Laura Lenzi)? (Yes, the goddess of gardening, because, why not?) Apparently, they don’t like how Zeus is running things, and this is their idea of how to orchestrate a palace coup.

The Legion of Doom?

Without his magical bolts, Zeus is reduced to a toga-wearing retiree yelling at clouds. Worse, the Moon is now on a kamikaze path toward Earth, because, naturally, lightning bolts were somehow holding that in place too. Down below, humanity is panicking (as one does), and two sisters, Urania (Milly Carlucici) and Glaucia (Sonia Viviani), consult the mysterious Little People—tiny, sparkly advisors who speak in vague riddles and glitter. They declare only one being can stop this lunar disaster: Hercules! But Zeus isn’t so sure. He’s hesitant, probably because last time Herc was on Earth, he left behind a trail of broken pillars and broken hearts. Still, desperate times call for immortal muscle, so Zeus finally teleports Hercules down from the heavens to punch things until the problem is solved.

“Excellent, it was so boring being a constellation.”

Not to be outdone, the rogue gods counter by reviving King Minos (William Berger), a dude known for dooming people to the labyrinth of the Minotaur, who teams up with the ancient inventor Dedalos (Eva Robbins), because what better way to beat divine power than with SCIENCE? (Insert dramatic thunderclap.) With monsters hiding the thunderbolts all across the galaxy, Hercules embarks on a star-hopping, bicep-flexing adventure to retrieve the bolts, punch some cosmic beasts, and maybe teach the Moon some manners.

Let the mythological madness begin.

First up on Hercules’ intergalactic to-do list: wrestle a giant ape-like creature that looks like it escaped from a low-budget Bigfoot documentary. Herc flexes, punches, and probably yells something heroic, and boom, thunderbolt #1 is his. One down, six to go. Meanwhile, the four petty gods are off in the background cooking up their evil plan, which is running into a few snags as the recently resurrected King Minos isn’t quite following orders, and his team-up with a mad inventor could lead to even more complications for the gods.

Pinky in the Brain, an early Greek version.

Back on Earth, Hercules joins forces with Glaucia to save her sister Urania, who’s been kidnapped by what can only be described as the rejected cousins of the Putties from Power Rangers, only even more disgusting. They’re gross, slimy, and show up in large, squishy numbers. Outnumbered and out-gooed, our heroes make a dramatic escape into a conveniently placed cave full of ominous stone statues (which is never a red flag).

“Sure, it may look like a knock-off Zardoz, but I bet it’s safe.”

Inside, they meet Euryale (Serena Grandi), who at first seems friendly until she casually strolls off and transforms into a scorpion-tailed, snake-haired nightmare with the personality of a disgruntled Medusa on a bad hair day. Yep, she’s a Gorgon. Time for Plan B. Luckily, Hercules is prepared with his shiny shield mirror trick, and after some classic mythological manoeuvring, he avoids turning into a lawn ornament and turns Euryale into a pile of scaly regret. Cue thunderbolt #2, which he plucks like a prize from a claw machine. Two thunderbolts down. Several monsters, a rogue king, and possibly more slime to go.

Hercules vs. Bargain Basement Medusa.

Hercules and the two sisters hop on a boat to yet another ominous island because clearly, peace and quiet are not on the itinerary. They wander into a haunted forest where creepy human dolls dangle from trees like nightmare-themed Christmas ornaments. Things escalate quickly when a demonic sorcerer-knight (looking like a goth Lancelot with anger issues) jumps out swinging. Hercules, unfazed as always, pins him to a tree with little to no effort. That’s one evil knight down, and thunderbolt #3 up for grabs!

Did this knight wander in from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?

But no time to rest, Glaucia gets snatched by soldiers working for a high priest who’s really into volcano-themed sacrifices. She’s about to be flambéed for the glory of a fiery beast named Antaeus, but Urania swoops in with the rescue. Meanwhile, Hercules suplexes Antaeus around the Earth like a mythological WWE champ until the fire monster crash-lands in the ocean like a soggy sparkler. Ta-da! Thunderbolt #4!

Hercules vs. a Bug Zapper.

Next stop: An Amazon smackdown. Hercules and Glaucia run into a tribe of fierce masked warrior women who don’t care for uninvited guests. Why do they wear creepy masks? Who knows? Who cares? Sadly, Hercules is caught in an electrical net and knocked out and soon found tied up (standard procedure at this point) in a strange web in the lair of Arachne (Pamela Prati), the Spider Queen, but Urania gives him a wake-up call just in time. He breaks free, strangles Arachne and retrieves Thunderbolt #5.

Note: Hercules strangling a woman to death is probably the most character-accurate thing this movie has done up to this point.

With five bolts in hand, our mythic trio blasts off into space…because, why not? Urania helpfully reveals thunderbolt #6 is hidden in a rock, like a cosmic Easter egg. But plot twist! Glaucia had been murdered by Poseidon and replaced by an evil doppelganger, who threatens to kill Urania if Hercules doesn’t get with the program. Enter King Minos, again, who’s somehow still in the game and wants Hercules to join “Team Evil Science.” Classic villain move. It’s here that things go fully bananas: Minos turns into a space dinosaur, because sure, that’s science now. Not to be outdone, Hercules turns into a space gorilla with galaxy-sized muscles and absolutely wrecks Jurassic Minos into extinction.

Well…um, yeah, this happens.

Finally, Urania drops a bombshell: she’s Hera’s daughter (surprise family drama!) and the seventh thunderbolt is literally inside her. She nobly sacrifices herself by letting Hera give her the “kiss of death,” which sounds romantic but is more “lethal smooch from your vengeful goddess mom.” Supercharged with all seven bolts, Zeus helps Hercules go full cosmic—he grows so big he can literally reposition planets like furniture. He gently nudges the Moon back into orbit like it’s a beach ball and saves Earth from becoming cosmic roadkill.

Superman, eat your heart out.

With the universe saved, Zeus forgives Hera and the other gods for rebelling so that peace can reign now and forever on both Olympus and Earth. He also resurrects Urania and makes her the Muse of space and astrology, which is kind of like winning an Oscar but with better perks. And Hercules, well, he goes back to Olympus and pretends to be a constellation again. The end. And yes, that all really happened. Sort of.

“I’m shocked that people down there still pray to us.”

But how does this film stack up against the Greek mythology? Well, let’s say it’s less a faithful retelling of Greek mythology and more a disco-flavoured fever dream with lightning bolts. It gets just about everything wrong—but it’s gloriously, cheesily wrong. Think of it as a Hercules movie made by someone whose only exposure to mythology was a comic book scribbled on a napkin in a laser tag arena.

1. The Thunderbolts Are Just… Lying Around?

In the film, Zeus loses his thunderbolts (yes, plural) and tasks Hercules with recovering them. Greek mythology treats the thunderbolt as one, not a Pokémon collectible set. It’s the singular, divine weapon of Zeus—crafted by the Cyclopes—and not something you misplace like TV remotes.

2. Zeus and Company as Literal Space Gods

The Olympians reside atop Mount Olympus, an actual mountain in Greece, but in this film, the gods chill on a variety of planetary bodies, with vibes somewhere between Flash Gordon set and a disco ball. Mount Olympus? That’s for amateurs.

3. The sisters Urania and Glaucia.

These characters are completely made-up. Urania is a Muse in Greek myth (of astronomy, not astrology), but here she’s a cosmic sidekick and only becomes a Muse after dying. Glaucia has no mythological basis and mostly serves as damsel bait.

4. The Villain King Minos.

Minos was a complex character; sometimes wise, sometimes cruel, but he wasn’t a mad scientist sorcerer. Here, he’s basically a campy Bond villain who wants to conquer the universe with “science.” Giving us such wonderful tidbits as, “Science and chaos have given me the power to eliminate you all!”

So, these are the enemies of science?

This film plays like Greek mythology filtered through a ‘70s prog rock album cover, written by someone who once skimmed a mythology book—upside down. But you don’t watch it for accuracy. You watch it for glowing thunderbolts, bad dubbing, slow-motion fights, and the sheer audacity of its nonsense.

Stray Observations:

• As was the case with 1965’s Hercules the Avenger, which consisted mostly of footage from previous films, The Adventure of Hercules consists of about 35 minutes of new footage.
• Minos is resurrected by having the blood of a slain warrior poured over his desiccated skeleton, which seems more like a Dracula thing, if you ask me.
• The fire monster called up by the high priest is reminiscent of the Monster from the Id from the movie Forbidden Planet when it first appears.
• Hercules is told that Urania received her powers from her adopted mother. I’m not sure if that’s how inherited traits work.
• The “Space Dinosaur” and “Space Gorilla” fight was clearly borrowed from the classic T-Rex vs Kong fight in the original 1933 classic King Kong. And by “borrowed,” I mean they blatantly traced the fight sequence.
• The two “little people” who advise Urania reminded me more of the twin fairies from Mothra than anything from Greek mythology.

“We need you to go and fight Godzilla next.”

Director Luigi Cozzi once again proves that if you can’t make it good, you might as well make it weird. And Ferrigno? He’s having a great time, possibly unaware that the monsters were added in post-production, perhaps aware but beyond caring because he’s Lou freaking Ferrigno. And, once again, Ferrigno is dubbed by a man who sounds like he just woke up from a nap, struts through the film in a loincloth, lifting things, flexing meaningfully, and punching problems until they go away. Ferrigno’s Hercules is less a cunning hero than a musclebound wanderer, solving nearly every problem by lifting, throwing, or punching it into submission.

“Look, there’s a boulder I could throw.”

Thematically, the movie plays fast and loose with classical mythology. Greek gods mingle with sci-fi gadgets and cosmic prophecies. Zeus is portrayed like a weary CEO of Olympus, and the “thunderbolts” resemble glowing batons from a disco-themed light show. There is little concern for fidelity to mythological source material. Cozzi’s script treats mythology as a buffet of cool-sounding names and vaguely magical artifacts, mixed and matched for maximum spectacle. While the film lacks the polish of its Hollywood counterparts, it compensates with creativity and enthusiasm.

Well, enthusiasm on a budget.

In conclusion, The Adventures of Hercules is a fascinating example of low-budget fantasy filmmaking. It may not honour the Greek myths in any traditional sense, but it honours a different tradition: that of the campy, colourful, and completely bonkers adventure film. For those willing to suspend disbelief and embrace its glorious absurdity, it offers a unique and strangely lovable viewing experience, part sword-and-sandal, part space opera, all glorious nonsense.