I’ve been a fan of Guillermo del Toro’s work since his first feature film, Cronos. He’s a director with a singular vision, an unmatched mastery of the macabre, and a true artistic flair.
So when I heard he was making a sequel to his 2004 hit Hellboy, I was thrilled.
But did the sequel manage the elusive feat of living up to the original?
Let’s dive in and find out.
Hellboy II: The Golden Army picks up where the first film left off. Hellboy is still working with his team of paranormal investigators at the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. This time they’re up against a new villain: Prince Nuada, a disenchanted elf determined to awaken an ancient army of magical creatures and wage genocide on mankind.
Del Toro’s visual style is in full force in this film. The creatures, though more fantastic than in the first film, are even more believable. The stunning set designs drip with a sense of secondary world culture and history. And the action hits the next level of intensity, thanks in large part to Luke Goss’ turn as Nuada.
Those action sequences are nothing short of spectacular. Hellboy’s battle with the Elemental is a tour de force of special effects and choreography. And our heroes’ final showdown with the Golden Army captures a sense of the epic that many set piece battles between massive CG armies fail to realize.
But what makes this film stand out is the emotional depth del Toro brings to the story. Hellboy’s struggle to come to terms with his dual nature is a major theme carried over from the first movie. And the stakes of his identity crisis rise to world-shattering heights here.
It helps that the characters are just as impressive as the visuals. Ron Perlman’s Hellboy is as grizzled yet lovable as ever. Doug Jones not only reprises his role as Abe Sapien’s physical performer, he takes on voice acting duties as well. The resulting performance is more mannered than David Hyde Pierce’s, but its warmth and innocence steals the show.
Which brings us to the aspect of this film that readers most wanted me to discuss.
Abe’s romance with Princess Nuala is a highlight of Hellboy II. Unlike the rather forced push-pull relationship between HB and pyrokinetic Liz Sherman, Abe and Nuala have genuine chemistry. Del Toro does an admirable job developing this relationship and making the audience care about these two characters.
Nuala is particularly intriguing. Like Hellboy, she is torn between loyalty to her kin and her own desires. Her relationship with Abe adds another layer of complexity to her character and highlights the movie’s themes of loyalty and sacrifice.
And it’s a noble sacrifice that keeps the promise del Toro makes with Abe and Nuala’s love.
Like its predecessor, what sets Hellboy II over and above other comic book fare is its heart. Beneath all the action and spectacle lies a story about love, loyalty, and sacrifice. The characters are more than just archetypes; they’re fully fleshed-out individuals with their own hopes, fears, and dreams.
Once again, del Toro shows us that what separates heroes from monsters is virtue.
Speaking of which, Luke Goss’ portrayal of Prince Nuada is a woefully underrated masterwork of villainy. Goss brings a regal air to the character that’s as captivating as it is intimidating. Nuada’s relatable motivation, his unshakable belief in his cause, and his sheer ruthlessness in pursuit of his goals make him a formidable antagonist.
Goss’ physical performance is no less impressive. His fight scenes are executed with grace and precision that make you feel every strike. In my book, he beat the odds and presented an even graver physical threat than Kroenen.
But the aspect of Goss’ performance that most resonated with me was his ability to convey tragedy. Nuada is not a heartless killing machine. He’s a Prince seeking the good of his people by any means necessary. That ruthless pursuit of what he believes to be the good leads him to make a terrible choice. And he struggles to come to terms with the consequences of his actions. Those inner conflicts reach a satisfying and haunting resolution in his final scene.
OK, I’ve spent more than a page gushing about this movie.
But contra the impression I may have given so far, Hellboy II isn’t perfect.
Let’s talk about Seth MacFarlane’s performance as Dr. Johann Krauss.
MacFarlane is best known for crass animated comedies aimed at sarcastic Y-ilists. So when he was cast as a serious character in a live-action supernatural horror movie, many were understandably skeptical.
But I have to admit, MacFarlane surprised me. He’s not great in the role, but nor is he terrible.
He brings a dry, sarcastic wit to the character that works well. There are even a few moments when he manages to convey real emotion, which is impressive given that he’s voicing a character with no face.
That said, MacFarlane’s voice work feels out of place at times. His performance tends to slip into cartoonishness, for lack of a better word.
It’s not enough to ruin the movie, but it is noticeable.
Overall, MacFarlane’s performance in Hellboy II is a mixed bag. While not a show-stopper, it’s not a disaster either. Pop Cultists will giggle like schoolgirls upon recognition and start spouting bad Peter Griffin impressions. But if you’re not a fan, his presence in the movie might be a distraction.
Nonetheless, Hellboy II: The Golden Army is a work of art that shines amid a glut of product. Guillermo del Toro outdid his first impressive outing in Mignola’s universe.
It’s a shame we won’t see the long-anticipated Hellboy III. But then again, it’s scarcity that makes great comics and movies precious.
While only a real third Hellboy movie can cure HB withdrawal, you can manage the symptoms by reading my award-winning supernatural horror series.
Apparently the early production disagreements for Hellboy III were so intense it not only destroyed Guillermo del Toro and Mike Mignola’s working relationship but their personal friendship as well, which is what prompted Mignola to strike it on his own and write Hellboy 2019
Which bombed at the box office, showing who the golden goose in that partnership was.
“And it’s a noble sacrifice that keeps the promise del Toro makes with Abe and Nuala’s love.”
What promise did Del Toro make with their love?
Go back and read the sentence immediately preceding the one quoted.
Nuala’s love for Abe served as something to be sacrificed in order to stop her brother?
Nuada? Is that supposed to be Nuada of the Silver Hand, of Irish myth? Maybe that’s just a coincidence, or a poetic allusion, but the name immediately stuck out to me, especially with the whole “Fey Lord” thing.
Yes. But for character and thematic reasons, del Toro gave Nuada’s father King Balor the silver arm instead.
I was wondering how you’d approach Princess Nuala’s sacrifice. On its face, it’s a suicide, which is wrong always and everywhere. Yet, it’s not a human suicide, nor even strictly suicide, I suppose, since she would still have died even if she had stabbed her brother rather than herself. If the Fair Folk exist, but are not spiritual souls in the same way we humans are, does the moral reasoning by which the Church forbids suicide under any and all circumstances still apply to them?
I concur with you about Nuada’s fight scenes. I don’t believe Elves exist, but if they did, that’s how they would fight.
It’s complicated. First of all, a thing’s nature determines what behavior concerning that thing is moral or immoral. As you pointed out, the fae folk have a different nature than humans, so we’d have to know more about them to make a thorough judgment.
Even if we say for the sake of argument that the fae are made in God’s image with rational souls and free will like men, we have the moral object to contend with. The moral object in cases of suicide is murdering oneself. But Nuala’s moral object was not killing herself. It was stopping her brother. All other attempts had failed, and she was no physical match for him. So as the only way to prevent a massacre, killing him was justified. The only way Nuala had to kill Nuada was using their sympathetic twin relationship, i.e. killing herself to kill him.
So her moral object was justified. Both of their deaths were tragic but unwanted consequences of attaining that object. The means she chose remain questionable, though.