After a long hard night being partied away at the Walkabout in Islington, I needed a pick-me-up. My throat hurt, my wallet was empty and I ended up chatting to a drug addict at a bus-stop trying to sell me some petrol. Today, I watched "Red Sonja" and I can honestly say that I felt much better last night than I do right now. Brigitte Nielsen leads a bunch of ass-kicking warriors in various shapes and sizes to recover a green rock from some evil queen whose motives are never fully explained. Yep, it's that good.<br /><br />"Red Sonja" isn't in a genre known for great films until Peter Jackson came along with a certain Oscar-winning trilogy. In fact, the best swords-and-sorcery film I could think of before "Lord Of The Rings" was George Lucas's kiddie-friendly "Willow". Perhaps, in view of this, one should go a little easy on this film. But I can't - it's poorly written, badly acted (with the exception of Paul Smith, who's just average) and dreadfully put together. The film is as convincing as an episode of the Flintstones, with costumes and scenery seemingly lifted straight outta Bedrock. Considering the comic-book source material, it is easy to forgive the various plot inconsistencies. Why Sonja insists on saving the most annoying kid, in this world or that one, is bewildering. His personality seems to flick from spoilt brat to polite gentleman at the flick of a switch. Schwarzenegger displays less charisma than a field full of cows and just goes through the motions, a perfect actor for his breakthrough role in "The Terminator".<br /><br />It's simple to kick a film when you're down but the fact remains that this is not a good film, by any stretch of the imagination. When Nielsen mourns the death of her sister and Schwarzenegger tenderly places his hand on her shoulder to comfort her and then blurts out, in that distinctive Germanic accent, "she's dead" then you know you're in for a rough ride. A few smiles were raised at inappropriate points, such as the priestesses of a temple who, when sent plunging to their deaths in a hole in the ground, seemed to enjoy the experience - at least, judging from the orgasmic moans that seemed to echo around the place. If you have to watch an Eighties fantasy film that wasn't porn, watch "Willow" (but never take that as a ringing endorsement). For the real thing, take yourself to your local multiplex and show Peter Jackson what a great job he did with "Lord Of The Rings". Trust me, 11 Oscars really does mean it's a great film - unlike bloody "Titanic".