‘Hellboy II: The Golden Army’ and Finding Beauty in a Dying World
Hellboy was a surprise hit, both for audiences that had never even heard of the source material and comic book fans who were not convinced that a series with such a specific style and tone could ever translate to live-action. Guillermo del Toro had already directed masterpieces like Cronos and The Devil’s Backbone, but his first American movie, Mimic, had been a notoriously troubled production. 2002 comic book sequel Blade II, however, quickly became a fan-favorite and remains the highest grossing entry in its franchise. That movie absolutely set the stage for Hellboy. Both are stylish, enormously fun popcorn flicks, but Hellboy tapped into an emotional core, even a sense of vulnerability, that Blade II didn’t quite have.
Hellboy himself was a classic pulp hero painted upon the canvas of 2000s blockbuster spectacle, but with the heartache of a Universal Monster. Del Toro created an audience surrogate, Agent John Myers, as the entry point into a world of Gods and Monsters, which feels almost like a studio note, insistent that Hellboy and his band of weirdoes could not carry a film by themselves. Instead, people fell in love with these eccentric characters and Myers was written out of the sequel.
The success of Hellboy allowed Hellboy II to be a pure, unashamed fantasy film. The first, though del Toro had certainly taken liberties, had been largely inspired by the early Hellboy stories written and illustrated by creator Mike Mignola. The second movie is an entirely different beast. It is a gorgeous, stunning, rich fantasy epic that also happens to star Hellboy. The director played into his strengths with The Golden Army, creating a complex story and a rich fantasy world completely of his own design.
It has a wholly original plot, taking hardly any inspiration from the comics whatsoever, but with Hellboy and the gang dropped into the middle of it. That’s a fantastic way to go about a comic book movie sequel, and it could only work with a title like this one, given that nearly all of Hellboy’s adventures are about the hero and his friends at the B.P.R.D. bouncing from one supernatural encounter to the next. The entire concept is basically The X-Files, if the monsters were the ones doing the investigating.
The decision to place the “freaks” at the center of this story more than the first is not an arbitrary one, either. It’s necessary for the story del Toro is telling. This is a film about being different, about wanting to be a part of a world that rejects you. More than, that, though, it takes this deft fantasy landscape, this world of magical creatures and places, and uses them as a metaphor for the earth’s own diminishing natural beauty under the empire of humankind.
The Golden Army of the title was an army of mechanical, unfeeling, indestructible soldiers that were built to lay waste to the hordes of mankind in a once-flourishing world of magic. They were so good at their job that the Elf King was horrified at what he had created and buried them deep within the Earth. Now, the mystical creatures of the world are forced into hiding while humankind flourishes. They disguise themselves in invisible markets, they meet in the sewers, united in that each of their breeds are dying, and each of them forgotten.
What little of their history remains is auctioned off by people who have no idea of its value, or its story, and would not care even if they did. Our “villain” is the elven prince Nuada, so psychically in synch with his sister Nuala that each feels whatever wound is inflicted upon the other, and all he wants to do is save his kind from extinction. He simply believes, not unfairly, that all of humankind would need to be wiped out in order to do that. The movie is not remotely subtle with its themes, nor should it be. There’s a reason Nuada makes his first attack against the humans at an auction.
There’s a sense of heartbreaking loss across this entire film, even as fun and funny as it often is, and I think that’s its greatest strength. There’s a line, when Hellboy faces down Nuada after killing The Last Elemental, a plant creature that is the last of its kind, where Nuada simply states, “We die, and the world will be poorer for it.” That’s the whole movie. That’s what the entire film is about and it is also objectively true. There are animals, ecosystems, even cultures dying every day and it would be an utter disrespect to them not to admit that some beauty goes out of the world every time they disappear.
One of the most interesting things about this sequence, though, is that The Last Elemental’s death is itself beautiful. It spreads plant life across a city block, it’s bioluminescent and colorful. It’s both fascinating and brave to admit that even in the weight of its sadness, there is a beauty in ending, that the last look at something on this Earth should be meaningful, and that only highlights the bitter tragedy of knowing it is something that you will never see again.
This is also a character focused film that highlights the humanity of its monster protagonists, and that goes hand-in-hand with the general theme of extinction. This is a movie about outsiders finding comfort in one another. Hellboy’s relationship with Liz perfectly embodies this. They have their troubles, to be sure. In fact, they’re fighting throughout the entire first act. But other than their love for one another, the thing they have in common that binds them together is that they both outright, unwaveringly reject fate.
Hellboy is the perfect protagonist for a meditation on the end of the magical world because he is literally the character destined to end the world. Supernatural creatures are a dying breed and yet Liz is pregnant with Hellboy’s children. They are bound together by defying the odds. There’s an incredible moment when Liz is bartering for Hellboy’s soul with the Angel of Death, and the Angel outright tells her that the prophecy is true, that Hellboy will destroy the world, and she basically spits in its face, rejects this supposed future, and brings her lover back to life without hesitation.
It’s the quiet moments that mean everything, because when the world forces you into hiding, the people closest to you become your world, and you have to take care of them. There’s a scene between Hellboy and Abe that is, without question, one of my favorite scenes in a comic book movie, ever, and it’s just the two of them talking about their girl troubles, getting drunk, and singing Barry Manilow’s “Can’t Smile Without You” together. In another, lesser movie, this kind of thing would be filler. Here, this is one of the most important scenes because this is what it’s all about. Leaning on those closest to you, pouring your heart out, without embarrassment and without inhibitions, and having a good time despite the entire world’s attempt to take that away from you.
In the end, The Golden Army is stopped and everything Nuada says comes to pass. The villain dies and the world is, indeed, lesser for it. But that leads to the perfect ending, given what del Toro strives for in this feature, of Hellboy and friends quitting the B.P.R.D. There can be no greater rejection of fate than that, to completely cut ties with any governing entity that tells you where to go, what to do, that treats you as an exception that proves the rule to goad you into killing your own kind. Hellboy, Liz, and Abe walk off into an unknown future, and that’s exactly the point. Finally, no one is telling their story but them, and Hellboy and Liz will bring two children into that future, almost providing a cosmic balance to the two they took away, with the deaths of Nuada and Nuala.
I know Guillermo del Toro wanted to make a third movie, and I definitely wanted to see it for a long time. But with almost twenty years of hindsight, I love the ending we got. I love that Hellboy II ends with optimistic uncertainty. I love that we have a happy ending despite the literal promise of extinction. I can’t think of a better end to the story, at least in terms of everything set up in this film, than that.
