Alright Deadites, gather ‘round the flickering glow of the old CRT. Remember that feeling? Hunting through the aisles of the video store, the plastic clamshell cases promising adventure, horror, maybe a little bit of both? And then you stumbled upon it. That iconic cover: a chainsaw-handed hero, a damsel, a horde of skeletons, and a title that screamed pure B-movie brilliance: Army of Darkness. If you were anything like me, you slammed that tape into the VCR with giddy anticipation, ready for whatever glorious madness Sam Raimi had cooked up this time.
### Hail to the King, Baby
Picking up (sort of) where Evil Dead II left off, Army of Darkness throws our beloved idiot hero, Ash Williams (Bruce Campbell, in the role he was literally born to play), back in time to medieval England. Gone is the claustrophobic cabin-in-the-woods horror, replaced by a swashbuckling, Three Stooges-infused fantasy epic. It was a jarring shift for some expecting pure terror, but man, what a ride it turned out to be. Ash, the S-Mart housewares employee, finds himself prophesied as the hero who will defeat the Deadite scourge plaguing Lord Arthur's (Marcus Gilbert) kingdom. All he wants is to get home, but first, he needs the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis. Simple, right? Klaatu... Barada... Necktie? Nectar? Nickel? Definitely an 'N' word...
What truly elevates Army of Darkness is Bruce Campbell’s full-throttle commitment to Ash’s evolution. He’s no longer just a survivor; he’s a blowhard, a cad, a wisecracking buffoon who accidentally becomes a leader. Campbell’s physical comedy is phenomenal, whether he’s battling tiny versions of himself (a sequence Raimi reportedly loved directing) or delivering iconic lines like "Gimme some sugar, baby" to the initially unimpressed Sheila (Embeth Davidtz). He is Ash, embodying that perfect blend of incompetence and sheer, dumb luck survival instinct.
### Where Practical Effects Reigned Supreme
Let's talk action, because that's where Army of Darkness truly shines with that glorious, tangible 90s energy. Forget seamless CGI armies; this was the era of stop-motion skeletons, exquisitely crafted miniatures, and gallons of fake blood (though notably less gore than its predecessors, thanks partly to studio demands). When that Deadite army rises, led by the wonderfully malevolent Evil Ash (also Campbell, hamming it up beautifully), it feels real in a way modern effects often struggle to replicate.
Remember those skeletal warriors? Crafted with painstaking love by companies like K.N.B. Efx Group (who also worked on Reservoir Dogs the same year!), they were brought to life using techniques directly inspired by the legendary Ray Harryhausen. You could feel the jerky, unnatural menace in their movements. It wasn't smooth, but it was tactile. The climactic castle siege, with its catapults flinging everything imaginable and Ash’s tricked-out "Deathcoaster" Oldsmobile Delta 88, is a masterclass in chaotic, practical fun. Raimi, even working with a modest $11 million budget (peanuts by today's standards, though a step up from the previous films), knew how to stretch every dollar for maximum visual impact. His kinetic camera work – those signature zooms, whip pans, and canted angles – makes every punch, explosion, and chainsaw rev feel immediate and visceral.
### Studio Battles and Cult Status
Getting Army of Darkness made wasn't exactly a walk in the park. After the indie success of Evil Dead II, Raimi and producer Robert Tapert found themselves wrestling with Universal Pictures for creative control. This famously led to multiple endings being shot. The original, bleaker ending saw Ash overshoot his return trip and wake up in a post-apocalyptic London – a classic Raimi gut-punch. But the studio, wanting something more upbeat (and potentially sequel-friendly), opted for the now-standard ending where Ash returns to his S-Mart job, shotgun in hand, ready to battle any Deadite that dares to mess with the value shoppers. Finding that original ending on certain VHS releases or later DVDs felt like uncovering lost treasure!
The film even went through title changes – Medieval Dead was floated around for a while. Upon release in early 1993, it wasn't a runaway blockbuster (grossing around $21.5 million worldwide), and some critics didn't know what to make of its genre mashup. But like so many VHS era gems, it found its audience on home video. Kids like us rented it, taped it off late-night TV, and quoted its endlessly repeatable lines ("Shop smart. Shop S-Mart!") until they became part of our lexicon. It cemented Ash as a pop culture icon and proved Raimi, who would later helm the first Spider-Man trilogy, was a director with a unique, irrepressible style. The score, primarily by Joseph LoDuca but featuring that unforgettable "March of the Dead" theme by Danny Elfman, perfectly captured the film's blend of heroic bombast and quirky horror.
### Final Verdict
Army of Darkness might lack the raw horror bite of the first Evil Dead or the perfect horror-comedy balance of the second, but it compensates with sheer, unadulterated fun. It's a boisterous, endlessly quotable adventure fueled by Bruce Campbell's legendary chin, Sam Raimi's hyperactive direction, and a treasure trove of fantastic practical effects that feel refreshingly made. It's a movie that absolutely knew what it was and leaned into its own absurdity with glorious results.
Rating: 9/10 - A near-perfect slice of 90s action-fantasy-comedy chaos. The studio tinkering and slightly lighter tone might deviate from its roots, but the sheer entertainment value, Campbell's iconic performance, and the practical effects wizardry make it an absolute must-watch from the era.
Final Thought: In an age of polished pixels, Army of Darkness is a gloriously grimy reminder of when movie magic felt like it was held together with spit, wire, and sheer lunatic passion. Groovy.