‘Army Of Darkness’ at 30: Sam Raimi’s Action-Comedy Remains One Of The Grossest Mainstream Multiplex Releases Ever

I hate to break it to you, but Army of Darkness, celebrating its 30th anniversary this month, is now basically as old as Jason and the Argonauts was back in 1993 when it first came out. Where, O Where is the Necronomican Ex-Mortis and its page of time-traveling incantations that can send us back?!?!

What’s most remarkable is realizing that Sam Raimi’s 1993 action-comedy doesn’t just work as a loving reflection of Ray Harryhausen’s handcrafted practical effects from the Hellenistic 1963 matinee adventure picture, but it serves as a terminus for an entire craft. With the explosion of CGI just around the corner, Bruce Campbell and his enormous chin fighting Deadites in the Mojave Desert is, by and large, the ne plus ultra for tactile, gross-out effects in a mainstream release. And what a way to go out.

Whereas Raimi’s 1987 cabin in the woods masterpiece Evil Dead II was somewhere between a remake and a sequel to 1981’s The Evil Dead, the new one (sometimes called Medieval Dead by fans, or Bruce Campbell vs. Army of Darkness by those who like to repeat whatever is put up on the screen) picks up precisely where the last one left off. But for newcomers, don’t worry, a quick recap is soon deployed (swapping in Evil Dead superfan Bridget Fonda fo a blink-and-you’ll-miss-her appearance.) All you need to know is that Bruce Campbell is our rough-and-tumble hero who see-saws between crafty and lunkheadedness, and malevolent forces have spit him and his beat-up Oldsmobile back in time with a chainsaw where his hand should be.

He’s landed in the 1300s (best guess) and in the middle of a feudal war between a king named Arthur (but not that King Arthur) and another dude called Henry the Red. At Arthur’s side is a wise man (called Wiseman) who is also not Merlin. Anyhow, this realm has no dragons or faeries, but it does have the Spirit Halloween-ready ghouls known as Deadites that can take many forms. The primary goal of these foul creatures remains a little vague, but their effect is a constant: they use their grotesque, undead powers to annoy Bruce Campbell in ways that would make Woody Woodpecker blush!

Once Ash (that’s the muscle-bound, quip-spitting character Campbell’s playing) wins the respect of the locals, he cuts a deal with Arthur and Wiseman. He’ll retrieve the Necronomican (e.g. The Book of the Dead, which is bound in flesh and printed in blood, and now available to purchase at a premium from licensees at finer comic book conventions) and then the in-house wizard will send him back to Kansas (or, at least, the S-Mart, somewhere in Michigan.)

The problem is that Ash is a little bit of a stooge, is quick to panic (mugging hilariously in the camera), and fall for whatever impish tricks the baddies have up their sleeves. Psychologists might have fun noting that most of his adversaries are literally reflections of himself, like miniatures from shards of a broken mirror, or an evil self that grows out of his own neck. There’s also the battle against his stubborn nature—he doesn’t need to repeat a sacred chant, dammit, he’ll remember it! Naturally, when the time comes, it slips his mind.

The magical phrase—klaatu berate nikto—is a further gift from director Sam Raimi (and co-screenwriter, his brother Ivan Raimi) to genre fans. Those three words are a repeat of the ones used to a similar purpose in The Day The Earth Stood Still. Later in the movie, Ash pops open the trunk of his car, we see a stray issue of Fangoria magazine. This movie is for everybody, but for folks who spend their times in comic book shops or ordering creature feature import DVDs, it’s like a warm hug. 

Bruce Campbell is not, in the strictest sense of the word, what one might call a “fine thespian.” But what he does, he does better than anyone. He’s a splash page come to life, a breathing piece of pop art, and few chomp on buzzy lines of dialogue quite like he can. Phrases like “Gimme some sugar, baby,” “This is my boomstick,” and “Buckle up, Bonehad” could potentially come out as pure cringe from someone less talented, though Raimi’s use of exaggerated Dutch angles and swift pushes to extreme close-up would likely mitigate that. 

One splendid line from the movie (“Hail to the King, baby”) is a little contentious among fans. As with all good cult films, there are multiple versions flying around out there. The original director’s cut does not include a bookend back to Ash telling his tell of battling zany skeletons in medieval times, in which this line is weaponized to wrap things up. The first version, which is widely available, ends with Ash getting distracted, miscounting the drops of the potions needed to send him back to the future, and waking up in a Planet of the Apes post-apocalyptic realm. (A destroyed Big Ben clues him in to this rather quickly.)

Perhaps the funniest thing you’ll ever see is Bruce Campbell in an absurdly long fake beard bellowing “Oh God, I slept too long!!!!!” It’s a wonderful moment, but test audiences wanted something more upbeat. As one whose first exposure was on a glorious night with friends in February 30 years ago, I have a certain fondness for the theatrical “Hail to the King, baby” ending. And yet, one can’t deny the greatness of Bruce Campbell forgetting to set his alarm clock.

Luckily, we all live in a world with options, and can have both. I just wish we had more movies like Army of Darkness coming out in theaters each year. 

Jordan Hoffman is a writer and critic in New York City. His work also appears in Vanity Fair, The Guardian, and the Times of Israel. He is a member of the New York Film Critics Circle, and tweets about Phish and Star Trek at @JHoffman.