Monsters & Mullets is Pornokitsch's ongoing project to review each and every 80s fantasy film we can get our grubby little mitts on, and rate them according to various incredibly empirical metrics including, of course, the number of monsters and mullets each movie features.
The problem with any post-1975 cinematic treatment of the Arthurian legends is the long shadow that Monty Python and the Holy Grail casts. Holy Grail isn't just funny, and it isn't just eminently quotable; it's also a carefully executed piss-take of the self-serious, ponderous medieval epic -type films that have infected cinema since Cecil B. Demille launched Geraldine Ferrar as Joan of Arc across screens in 1917.
In such films, the viewer is expected to understand, the combined weight of armor, arms and dirt dragging down the characters is directly proportional to the movie's thematic heft; the more of the former, THE MORE IMPORTANT THE MOVIE, SO SIT UP AND PAY ATTENTION ALREADY. (Symbolic corollary: good guys are always dirty because they're too busy saving maidens and fluffy kittens to bathe, while baddies are always clean because their priorities are wrong and villainous.)