Zardoz: When an Actor Requires a Paycheck, and a Director Needs Oversight

      Jack Gayer explores the cult classic sci-fi film Zardoz from 1974 featuring Sean Connery... I’d love to see more films starring slightly out-of-shape, middle-aged men. They should have body hair, don nothing but a bandolier and perhaps a striking red diaper. They also need to sport a Fu Manchu, Wolverine-like sideburns, and a long ponytail. After all, representation matters. It should also be made clear early on that this character is a brute and a rapist—lacking charm and any redeeming qualities.

      If this idea has ever crossed your mind, you’re in luck, because Zardoz (1974) covers all these aspects. It’s a film so self-indulgent that there are three brown eyes staring at its own navel. Why anyone would agree to star in such an absurdly pretentious movie is beyond comprehension. What led to its creation? As with many things, it boils down to money. Choices stem from someone making a profit or needing funds.

      It’s a foolish notion to think that just because someone made a successful film, they should be allowed to do whatever they please for their next project (Heaven’s Gate (1980) springs to mind). When scenarios like this arise—a director who sees themselves as an artistic genius, a star in need of cash, and a studio convinced that unrestrained creativity will yield profits—you get Zardoz. This psychedelic sci-fi film is a blast to watch but has the depth of a Bazooka Joe joke.

      Not enough has been written about this film, and it’s time to address this great oversight. Is it for a critical re-evaluation? Absolutely not; the movie is dreadful. What’s needed is a look at a film that has much to say, but similar to Billy Madison musing about lost puppies, the only takeaway from this movie is deciphering what led to its creation.

      While some films are enjoyable and possess a sense of humor (even if the funniest moments aren’t where they were intended), others carry an agonizing self-seriousness. And when such films flop, they become even more humorous. Zardoz is filled with self-importance, thanks to writer and director John Boorman. Before we discuss Boorman, let’s address the star, Sean Connery, who plays Zed.

      Connery, in need of work (and cash), saw the Zardoz script, where a floating head proclaims, “The gun is good, the penis is evil!” and Connery ends up wearing a wedding dress in the climax (amazing), portraying an overall terrible person. He thought, “What a unique take on the sci-fi genre. I have to do this. The Matrix (1999)? Lord of the Rings (2001-2003)? Forget about it," Connery later said. But this project? Absolutely.

      Connery remarked that Zardoz was “one of the best ideas [he’d] come across for ages,” as stated in an interview in Films and Filming in 1974. It wasn’t just the extraordinary script that captivated Connery; it was also the chance to act once again, regardless of his pay.

      As noted in Christopher Bray’s Sean Connery: A Biography, Connery was offered $200,000 for Zardoz—a small portion of what he earned for Diamonds Are Forever (1971). After his Bond tenure, work was scarce, so he couldn’t afford to be picky. According to the biography, Connery even asked to stay with Boorman and his wife while filming Zardoz. Even while paying for his lodging at a rate of 7 pounds a week, a sum that Boorman humorously claimed was more fitting for the 50s.

      While the author highlights how Connery didn’t contribute to the common pool for the required single malt whisky at Boorman’s home—insisting the director drink with him—he did help by ensuring all lights were turned off nightly. Connery, the original environmentally conscious celebrity. The director also responded to Connery’s wishes by firing the actor's driver, and the two shared the cost (150 pounds), prompting one to ponder just how financially strapped Connery truly was. After all, he did star in Zardoz.

      In the biography, Christopher Bray praises Connery's “sheer physical beauty” and “magnificent musculature”—fitting for the standards of 1974. The world was still three years shy of the documentary Pumping Iron (1977). One can only imagine Bray's thoughts about Connery’s physique during his Mr. Universe days, if words could drool.

      The biography also touches on Connery’s co-star Charlotte Rampling (Consuella). Did she share an interesting view on her rape scene with Connery? Indeed. Rampling quipped to the director that the incident “was all over much too quickly.” Why did