Steel Dawn

Tagline:
“He is the desert warrior, carving the future with his
sword.”

Entire Story in Fewer Words than are in this Sentence:
Patrick Swayze stands on his head for freedom.

Homoeroticism:
Swayze always did his best to cater to the leather
crowd, and he tips his cap once again to those who
need to see him in tight pants and glorious chaps.
There’s a great deal of padding going on in the crotch
area as well, and our hero is blissfully bronzed,
rippled, and beaded with sweat while swinging heavy
equipment under the hot sun. Thankfully, Swayze also
has an extended bathing scene, where we not only spend
a great deal of time staring at this chest, but get to
hear the line, “What’s the matter? Never seen a grown
man naked?” Of course, he’s surrounded by dusty hunks
at the time. There’s also the bit part of the village
doctor who is an even gayer version of Jamie Farr, but
he’s overwhelmed by the villain who is a dead ringer
for Nikki Sixx. He has several lengthy battles with
Swayze, including a climactic clash of orgasmic
proportions. The pair heave, huff, growl, and flex,
all while poking, prodding, jabbing, and thrusting.
The film is also kind enough to include hay carts and
a windmill, giving the two lovers ample opportunity to
fall to the ground in ejaculatory despair. Swayze
manages to receive a brutal gash near the groin, but
he triumphs with a savage blow to his rival’s heart.
Boys, you’ve earned those cigarettes.

Corpse Count:
Sixteen filthy beasts are dispatched in the film’s 101
minutes, including at least one decapitation and a
knife to the throat. The unfortunate bastard who
received the blade also fell back into razor wire,
further enhancing the bloodlust.

How bad was it really?
The opening sequence set the stage, as Swayze spends
at least ten minutes fighting off demented sand
creatures with swords, somersaults, and a karate chop
or two. Eight poor saps are sent to their maker during
the battle, and Swayze manages to keep a straight face
throughout while looking eerily like Frank Stallone.
There’s another ridiculous scene involving the head
baddie, an old fop who wants water and will stop at
nothing to get it. So when he rides into the village
to scare everyone shitless, what does he do? Why, he
has his henchmen overturn a large barrel filled with
burning trash! But why single out a particular
character? This is one of the era’s silliest efforts,
complete with atrocious dialogue, pitiful acting (the
worst of all by Swayze’s wife, who clearly slept
through her cue card classes), and an awkward romance
so lifeless that it all but forces the audience to
conclude that heterosexual intercourse is worse than a
root canal. And did I mention that, once again,
Swayze’s character is into meditation? As such, he
stands on his head to clear away the demons. Fine, I
guess I’ll give you some sample dialogue as well:
“You’re a big, fat, slimy pig!”
“Do you ever wonder what people did before the 
sandstorms?”
“Before you fight, you must first learn to meditate.”
“You used to be faster!” “You used to have hair.”
“It’s not you, it’s me! I attract violence!”

Post-Mortem One-Liner:
After a laughable sand boat race involving a young boy
and at least two pirate-like bad guys, the one dude
wearing pounds of eyeliner is slammed in the chest by
a massive blade. Assessing the situation with a cold
eye, Swayze announces, “I told you not to play with
sharp objects.”

Stupid Political Content:
In a decade full of pro-Reagan idolatry, Steel Dawn is
rather subdued politically. Sure, we can assume that
liberals appeased the Soviets, brought about nuclear
war, and gave us a post-apocalyptic planet, but
there’s less overt grandstanding than we’d come to
expect. Still, this is the desert and whites are
fighting ethnic types for a precious resource, so
perhaps this is a blueprint for Operation Desert
Storm. But as our hero risks it all for a hot mom and
her Aryan son, this could just as easily be the
ultimate triumph of the hard right of the political
spectrum.

Novelty Death:
During the opening fight, Swayze sticks his sword deep
into the sand, a cry is heard, blood flows, and he
finally pulls out his blade, which is remarkably shiny
and clean. What on earth did he kill down there?
Still, kudos are in order for anyone who can look out
on 100,000 square miles of endless desert and find the
one spot where evil lurks.

What You Learned:
Crimped hair and mullets remain fashionable well into
the 23rd century. And fuck, man, the Reagan years were
kind to foley artists. Very kind.