Alright, fellow tapeheads, dim the lights, maybe crack open a Tab Cola if you can find one, and let's rewind to a glorious moment in home video history. Imagine browsing the aisles of your local rental joint, maybe a ‘Video Village’ or ‘Mom ‘n’ Pop Flix’. You spot it: Deathstalker II. The cover probably promised brooding barbarian action, maybe featuring repurposed art from the first film or some other fantasy epic. But pop this 1987 gem into your trusty VCR, adjust the tracking just so, and brace yourself. Because what unspools isn't quite the grim-faced sword-swinging affair you might expect. Oh no, this is something wonderfully weirder.

The biggest, most immediate jolt watching Deathstalker II (sometimes subtitled Duel of the Titans, though honestly, who remembers that?) is the tonal whiplash from its 1983 predecessor. Gone is the relatively straight-faced (if still cheesy) Hyborian Age grit. Instead, we get… jokes? Winking self-awareness? A hero who seems vaguely annoyed he’s even in a fantasy movie? Yes, yes, and gloriously yes. Our new Deathstalker, played with a charming smirk by John Allen Nelson (who many might remember from Baywatch or 24 later on), is less Conan and more like a wisecracking rogue who accidentally stumbled onto the set of a Renaissance Faire.
The plot is classic fantasy boilerplate: the evil sorcerer Jarek (John Terlesky, chewing scenery with delightful gusto) has created an evil clone of the feisty Princess Evie (Carla Herd) to usurp her throne. The real Evie escapes, bumps into our titular hero, and convinces him (mostly through sheer force of will and the promise of adventure, maybe?) to help her reclaim her kingdom. Standard stuff, right? But the execution is anything but.

This shift in tone owes everything to director Jim Wynorski, a name synonymous with fast, furious, and often ridiculously fun B-movie filmmaking for producer Roger Corman's Concorde Pictures. Wynorski, known for classics like Chopping Mall (1986) and The Return of Swamp Thing (1989), wasn't interested in making another brooding barbarian flick. He saw the inherent silliness and leaned hard into it. You can almost feel the glee behind the camera.
One infamous piece of Wynorski/Corman lore absolutely applies here: speed and budget efficiency were paramount. Deathstalker II was reportedly shot incredibly quickly, possibly in under two weeks, often utilizing locations and resources in Argentina shared with other Corman productions filmed back-to-back to maximize savings. Keen-eyed viewers (or anyone who watched the first Deathstalker recently) will spot generous helpings of stock footage, costumes, and maybe even props recycled from the earlier film and other Corman productions. It wasn't laziness; it was the Corman way! And honestly, spotting the reused battle scene or familiar monster mask becomes part of the viewing fun. It adds to the film's quirky, handmade charm.


While John Allen Nelson brings a necessary lightness to Deathstalker, the real revelation might be Carla Herd as Princess Evie. She's not a damsel in distress waiting for rescue. Evie is resourceful, sarcastic, and often seems more competent than the hero she's enlisted. Herd plays her with infectious energy, making Evie a genuinely likable and proactive character – a refreshing change for the genre at the time. Their banter forms the comedic backbone of the film. John Terlesky as Jarek also understands the assignment, delivering his villainous lines with maximum camp. And keep an eye out for Wynorski regular Monique Gabrielle in a typically memorable, albeit brief, appearance.
The action? Well, it's… enthusiastic! Forget polished choreography. This is energetic sword-clanging, slightly awkward tumbling, and practical effects that feel very, very practical. Remember those sparks when swords hit? Or the slightly unconvincing rubber monster suits? There's an endearing physicality to it all, a far cry from today's weightless CGI battles. It felt tangible, even through the glorious fuzz of a well-worn VHS tape viewed on a chunky CRT TV. Didn't those slightly clumsy fights feel more relatable, somehow, back then?
Deathstalker II wasn't exactly a critical darling upon its straight-to-video release, and it certainly didn't set the box office alight (because, well, there wasn't one). But it found its audience on those rental shelves, becoming a beloved slice of 80s fantasy cheese for those who appreciated its humor. It knew exactly what it was: a low-budget lark designed to entertain for 85 minutes, preferably late at night with friends and maybe some questionable snacks.
It cheekily sends up the very genre it belongs to, filled with anachronistic gags, fourth-wall-adjacent glances, and a general air of "let's just have fun with this." While the sequels (Deathstalker III and IV) would follow, neither quite captured the specific blend of intentional comedy and sword-and-sorcery tropes that makes this second outing such a peculiar delight.

Justification: Look, this isn't high art. The budget constraints are glaring, the acting is variable, and the plot is thinner than Deathstalker's tunic. However, it scores points for sheer audacity, its surprisingly funny script (credited to Neil Ruttenberg and Howard R. Cohen), likable leads in Nelson and Herd, and its status as a prime example of Jim Wynorski's efficient, entertaining B-movie magic. It achieves exactly what it sets out to do: provide goofy, self-aware fun. It leans into its limitations and becomes more enjoyable because of them, not despite them.
Final Take: Deathstalker II is the cinematic equivalent of finding a surprisingly tasty generic-brand cereal – you know it's not the fancy stuff, but damn if it isn't satisfying in its own uniquely charming way. A must-watch for fans of 80s fantasy spoofs and Corman-esque ingenuity.