SECRET OF THE INCA'S EMPIRE

1987
Italy
aka Alla ricerca dell'impero sepolto (I), Inka Man - Fluch der Todeshöhle (WG)
Cinesuerte, Effe Kappa
Director : Frank Kramer [Gianfranco Parolini]
Story & screenplay: Gianfranco Parolini
Music : Walter Ritz
Cinematography : William Mancori
Cast : Conrad Nichols [Luigi Mezzanotte], Kelly London, Ann Karin, Francis Scott [Gianfranco Parolini], Vassili Karis, Lyka Ugarte, Max Laurel, Frank Vitale, Willy Morales

This is really a pretty paltry enterprise which takes it's starting point from the Indiana Jones films that were mopping up the box office in the early 80s. Considering that it was made much later in the decade it could realistically be described as a throwback in exploitation terms. Whatever, it suffers from all the afflictions to be found in Italian films of the time: an annoying cast, poorly conceived attempts at 'Hollywood-isation' and excessive frugality at the cost of perceivable style.

Annoying bimbo Linda Logan (Kelly London) comes into possession of an Incan treasure map when her boss is murdered. The last message he can pass on to her is that it must be delivered to Professor Rivera (Frank Vitale), possibly the only man who can correctly decipher it. This seems slightly peculiar seeing as it is simply a picture of a house and some mountains with a path through it - an image that could easily be comprehended by a dim-witted two-year old.

Nonetheless, she sets off in search of the estimable linguist and soon arrives in Peru, only to discover that he has already buggered off in search of a secret buried kingdom. Luckily she hooks up with his assistant, Bradbury (Conrad 'Walking Bicep' Nicholls), who agrees to accompany her as she sets of into the jungle to find him.

Of course, lots of other people are also looking for this archaeological booty and are therefore determined to lay their hands on the map, heroine or a decent strong martini (whoops no, that's just me - reaching for the drink in a pitiable attempt to stave off the mediocrity). Chief among them are Angel Lansky (Vassili Karis), a randy thug, and his camp boss Professor Alex (J Francis Scott). Also blundering around is a troupe of portly natives guided telepathically by a mysterious individual who has zappy, green rays coming out of his eyes. This goon's supernatural power is further demonstrated by the fact that he is always shown playing a wurlitzer organ - the instrument of Beelzebub.

After braving all of the terrors that we've become used to from the genre - plastic alligators, rickety wooden bridges, piranhas and a Michael Berryman lookalike - Brandon and Linda finally discover the mysterious 'Machete' tribe, guardians of the titular empire and part-time inventors of a nifty decapitation machine.

The whole sorry mess is crippled before it can start by having two of the most annoying leads I've been unfortunate enough to stumble across. Conrad Nicholls (a Tonino Ricci regular) is his usual comatose self - when God created a personality for this guy he must have accidentally used the formula for Dairylea cheese slices. But he is as nothing compared to Kelly London, a human irritation.

Matt Blake