Pick the worst Hercules movie among the 19 the Italians made from 1957 to 1965. Hell, you can even include the Ursus, Samson, Goliath and Maciste adventures if you like. Whatever your choice, it’s better than 1969’s tiresome Hercules in New York, starring a 22-year-old Arnold Schwarzenegger, second-billed as Arnold Strong in his film debut. It’s a wonder he was asked back for another.

Not an adventure, but a family comedy with the production values of a porn, the unfunny film cast Arnie as the half-mortal Hercules, who seeks permission to leave Mount Olympus, but his dad, Zeus (soap actor Ernest Graves), won’t let him, yet throws a thunderbolt at him anyway, thus sending Herc to New York City, where he’s befriended by a waterfront pretzel salesman, Pretzi (comedian Arnold Stang, neither comic nor relief), and romanced by a professor’s daughter (Deborah Loomis, 1976’s Blood Bath).

In the Big Apple, Hercules tips over a taxi, wows collegians with his discus skills, does that bodybuilder thing where he flexes his boobies individually, throws a guy into a river, participates in a televised barbell contest, wrestles a guy in a bear suit 600-pound escaped grizzly bear and, finally, drives a chariot down through Central Park. Isn’t that just a fucking riot?

What little fun the flick offers is witnessing Schwarzenegger face his greatest foe: dialogue. He can’t properly pronounce Zeus or Athens, let alone his own character’s name, and rarely does a shot include him saying more than one line at a time. Still, some of those are unintentional gems as he:
• sees a forklift: “Fine chariot! But where are ze horses?”
• is told he better watch his mouth: “I can hear my talk, I cannot vatch it.”
• marvels at an automat: “This fine food for only a few small coins?”
• is asked whether his mother dropped him on his head as a baby: “Once I strangled two serpents in the cradle.” —Rod Lott

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