This is Skeletor. [Uncredited imaged, though I'd love to know who...]
He is the Overlord of Evil. He wants ultimate power, to become the one Master of the Universe. None knows who he is or where he came from. Some say he was a human named Keldor. Others believe he was once the apprentice of an evil horde lord from another dimension or planet, or himself a demon lord from another world.
I don't believe any of these stories and dismiss them as attempts to comprehend an incomprehensible force of evil. Perhaps Skeletor was once a man driven by ambitions of power. Whoever or whatever he was, he is now a lord lich made powerful and immortal through sheer force of evil will, stripped of all compassion, empathy, humanity, he feels no pain or fear and is left only with an evil, cold, insatiable hunger for ultimate power.
He knows just where to find it. Behind the ancient walls of Castle Grayskull lies the source of all power in the Universe. If he can control Grayskull, he rules all. Only one can stop him - The Most Powerful Man in the Universe, and the only being worthy of protecting and wielding the Power of Grayskull.
I was seven when the Master of the Universe toy line was released. I don't remember if I asked anyone to buy me these toys or if I was even aware of the franchise beforehand. It must've been a Christmas bounty, and what a bounty it was, especially since I was living in, what seems in hindsight, hard times. I lived in a one-room studio motel with my mom and the guy who was at the time my step-father. There was a lot going on at the time that made it difficult for a kid like me to focus on anything.
Then I got these incredible toys, and looking back I had gotten nearly everything in the first wave of the series - He-Man, Beast-Man, Man-At-Arms, even Tee-La (or Teela). I even got the whole goddam Castle Grayskull playset!
But the character that captivated my imagination the most was Skeletor, Overlord of Evil. It was the most sublime character design I had ever seen in a toy, from the hooded and ghostly skull-face with the red-dotted pupils in the eyesockets, to the blue-skinned hyper-human hulking muscles, the clawed simian fingers and toes, the scant purple armor ornamented with demonic imagery trimmed with bone outlines, and that ram-skull staff.
The dolls came with these amazing illustrated booklets outlining the story of the characters. While He-Man is often seen as the focus of the series, the real central character was Skeletor and his intent to control Castle Grayskull and the ancient power that resided within. The key was a magic Sword of Power that could be used to unlock the power of Grayskull. The sword had been split down the blade into two. One half was lodged in the highest peak of Eternia that Skeletor heroically traversed himself to obtain. The other half was held by the Most Powerful Man of the Universe, a barbarian champion known only as He-Man, whom Skeletor must defeat to obtain the other half of the Sword of Power.
I loved the art style, especially the design of Skeletor. His character evoked an inhuman otherworldly intent oblivious to the suffering and chaos he creates. He neither enjoys for nor cares about the evil he does. It's a mere means to his ends.
The Skeletor in those original illustrations showed an irredeemable kind of evil.
Seven-year-old me was completely seduced by this epic story and the villain who was the center of it all. He was like a somewhat more disturbing Darth Vader whose quest for power had nothing to do with anyone but himself. This is the Masters of the Universe that I fell in love with, anyway.
Then that goddam cartoon came out and nearly ruined everything. I hated it. No longer was He-Man a barbarian champion. No, he had a Shazam-like secret identity, a fucking member of the nobility, a rich, pampered prince (who looked exactly like He-Man except he wore princely-attire) named Adam. His badass war tiger named Battle Cat? That's actually a cowardly old pet named Cringer. Fucking Cringer? Almost everything about that show was terrible, from the introduction of characters like Orko and The Sorceress, to established characters like Man-At-Arms becoming a kind of benevolent father-figure, or Beast-Man becoming a sub-intelligent buffoon.
But the worst of all was what they did to Skeletor. The terrifying force of evil I once knew had become an Elmer-Fuddian foil, a boob, a mere vaudevillian opponent for the hero to defeat in goofy fashion every episode. It was a complete disgrace of the once-sublime presence in a once-epic fantasy made into a childish romp of prats and slapstick. Yes, I'm pretty sure Skeletor received actual pie in his bony face at one time or another. I was disgusted.
Yet something about that original concept kept with me, and I had hoped eventually for a better treatment of the franchise. It never came. There was a live-action movie, and while it had potential with its focus on techno-fantasy, a kind of Star Wars meets Conan vibe, it turned out to be completely terrible. Well, almost. It probably had one of the best depictions of Skeletor yet, but, again, the movie was terrible.
The cartoon reboot in 2002 wasn't bad, except they kept the whole Prince Adam trope in tact, and while much better than the original cartoon, Skeletor still had that similar buffoon-foil-opponent aspect to him. Also, in no treatment has the concept of the split Sword of Power ever been explored.
I still have hope that Skeletor will get the sublime, epic treatment he deserves. I even have some ideas for my own kind of fan fiction just to satisfy my own needs. What is it about this character that captivates me? Is it the aspect of pure, irredeemable evil? Maybe it's the idea of a cold, incompassionate drive for power. It's not that I would want Skeletor to succeed, necessarily, but maybe I just wonder what it would be like if he did.
Whatever it was, it would sometimes disturb the adults around me. I once had a plastic costume set with the likeness of Skeletor complete with skull-face mask and ram-skull staff accessory. I once found the staff in the trash later to find out that my dad had thrown it out because he was concerned that it was a "symbol of the Devil." I suppose it would have been quite shocking for Baby-Boomer parents in the 80s to see their kids' toys depicting images of death, and I suppose that's understandable.
As a kid it hadn't registered as anything that could've been mistaken for reality. It was just a toy, a fantasy, and a cartoon. Yes, a dark and sublime kind of fantasy, but I'm still not sure if there was ever anything wrong with that. In fact, it was likely more healthy to have been exposed to such fantasies, helping to nurture and cultivate the imagination I have today.
Masters of the Universe was my mythology of choice, until it got lame. Now I simply disregard what was lame and only accept what I see as the original sublime and epic aspects as my personal mythology.
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