Well, it’s been a week or so, and official confirmation has been delivered. Jason Momoa, he of Baywatch, North Shore and Stargate Atlantis, follows in the illustrious footsteps of such magnificent thespians as Arnold Schwarzenegger and Ralph Moeller, as the latest to don the proverbial throne-treading sandals of the most iconic barbarian in modern fiction.

Well, no time like the present to offer my thoughts on the situation. Beware, landlubbers: these seas be rife with snark.

Let’s first address the 800lb. Gray Ape in the room: Jason Momoa isn’t exactly who springs to mind when you think of the cold, dark land of Cimmeria. Jason is of Hawaiian ancestry on his father’s side, and Hiberno-German-Native American heritage on his mother’s. Well, at least he’s a percentage Gaelic: that’s something, right? The problem to me is that Momoa doesn’t just happen to be Hawaiian, he looks Hawaiian: not merely in terms of ethnicity, but in his whole bearing and being. Everything about him speaks of sun-kissed beaches, azure waves, verdant tropics, and all the other silly stereotypes one sees on Honolulu postcards.

In contrast, Cimmeria is not exactly the sort of place one books for the holidays. It is a “land of darkness and deep night,” a land whose sky is darkened by the “grey clouds’ leaden everlasting arch,” a “gloomy land that seemed to hold/All winds and clouds and dreams that shun the sun,” and “dark woodlands brooding over all, Not even lightened by the rare dim sun,” and so forth. Momoa just doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who could’ve been born anywhere as relentlessly gloomy and grey: he looks every bit the Hawaiian-born man.

Obviously, the magic of cinema can address issues like eye colour, hairstyle, and the lack of scars adorning Momoa’s skin, as demonstrated by a Photoshop-abled Robert E. Howard Forum member. But what of his build? Despite descriptions of pantherish suppleness and cat-like movement, Conan is consistently described in terms like “massive,” “giant” and “broad.” He’s clearly a buff lad no matter which way you look at it. Two months isn’t a long time to pile on the muscle, and even then, all the development in the world isn’t going to make his shoulders any broader, his chest deeper, or his fists more massive. So on the purely physical front, Momoa isn’t ideal: however, one could argue that, like the eye and hair, it’s something that can be done with movie magic. For all the working out the actors playing the Spartans in 300 did, Snyder nonetheless added a little CGI and makeup assistance to make them more reminiscent of the marble statues most people think of when they imagine Greek history and mythology.

All this talk of his appearance is superficial, you may protest: what of Momoa’s acting prowess? His skill in the theatrical arts is difficult to gauge: he was the requisite Proud Warrior Race Guy – which seems to be standard for science fiction television ever since Lieutenant Worf in Star Trek: The Next Generation popularized the archetype — on Stargate Atlantis, but that doesn’t reveal much in terms of range. As Ronon Dex, he didn’t really do much apart from scowl, brood and beat Wraith up with his impressive fight choreography. At least we don’t have to worry about his swordplay skills, though if Empire is to be believed, his equestrianism – or lack thereof — needs to be improved, post haste. (Seriously, Lionsgate, what the hell?) I haven’t had the luxury of seeing his work on beach-based soaps Baywatch and North Shore, but something tells me they aren’t exactly challenging roles. Based purely on SGA, he isn’t a bad actor: just not the first I’d pick, and I’m reserving judgment on whether he can carry an entire film on his shoulders.

So from an appearance and acting point of view, Momoa is a tough sell for me. Nonetheless, there’s a certain contingent that argues the very idea of casting a person of strictly Gaelic descent, or who could at least look like they’d fit in with the population of Rathcullen, County Derry, is tantamount to racism. Apparently, wanting an actor who resembles the character they’ve been signed to portray shouldn’t extend to ethnicity, and saying otherwise makes you no better than the Klan. Usually they point to the Frazetta pictures, arguing that Fritz’s Conan looks almost Native American, never minding that Howard was explicit in characterizing Conan as a white boy.

Such aggressive warping of the reasoning behind political correctness leads to consideration of a black James Bond as perfectly reasonable, not to mention the popular choice of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson as our favorite Cimmerian. When a rumor making the rounds suggested that Jamie Foxx be cast as Frank Sinatra in a Martin Scorcese biopic, “enlightened” hack journalists applauded this example of “color-blind casting,” arguing that outside of a little thing like ethnicity, Foxx would be “perfect” for the role. (Of course, this proved to be a case of subtle parody being undetectable by the average British tabloid journalist, an event that comes as absolutely no surprise to this Scot.) I have to wonder if these proponents of “color-blind casting” would be perfectly alright with, say, Wes Studi as T’Challa in a Black Panther film, or Jackie Chan as Tonto in a new The Lone Ranger, or Danny Trejo in a new Shaft adaptation.

Danny Trejo is an impressive actor. He has close to two hundred screen credits to his name, and his style of “dangerous tough guy” in Heat, From Dusk Till Dawn, and Robert Rodriguez’ “Mexico Trilogy” exudes an air of intimidation few could match. He has genuine street cred, having been in and out of jail as a teenager, and regularly works out, boasting an impressive build–all the more impressive that he’s 63 years old. More than a few –including Robert Rodriguez, though he might have been facetious — have mentioned Trejo would be a good Conan, even considering how quintessentially Mexican his features are. Well, if Conan’s ethnicity isn’t worth considering, then why should Shaft’s? If we’re going to be colour-blind in our casting, then that should extend to all characters. Yet nobody would dream of making a Hispanic Shaft, because Ernest Tidyman wrote the character as a hard-as-nails black dude from the mean streets of Harlem, specifically as a black counterpart to James Bond and Frank Bullitt. Just as Shaft’s ethnicity and background is inextricable to his character, so the dark hills of Cimmeria and the grim people who dwell among those hooded hills are intrinsic to Conan.

It’s a slippery slope to go down. Once you decide to recast a character’s ethnicity, what’s to stop going even further in that PC-oriented direction? What if we decide to quell those tiresome “Conan the Sexist” libels once and for all by casting an actress as Conan? Lucy Lawless has the volcanic blue eyes and dark hair, she’s tall and powerfully built, she can certainly handle a blade, and her stare is phenomenally intimidating. Xena: Warrior Princess was a cult phenomenon, so she’s proven she can handle a starring role with aplomb. Xena herself fits the character of Conan in just about every way except her gender. What does it really matter if she isn’t, strictly speaking, a man?

Pam Grier’s another tough customer. She also has a dominating presence, formidable acting chops, and is one of the first prominent female action stars in cinema, long before Sigourney Weaver and Linda Hamilton. Her many accolades — an Emmy, a Golden Globe, and Screen Actor’s Guild among them — are testaments to her thespian qualities. Heck, compare her to Frazetta’s Conan: the resemblance is so uncanny, they could be brother & sister. So what if she’s black, a woman, and quite a bit older now than Conan was ever described in a Howard story? To paraphrase a comment made against a Howard fan on another board, “all I see is someone who’s tall, strong, and intimidating, and all you’re concerned about is her skin color, age and gender. And I find that sad.”

As you can see, if we’re going to play the “it’s all relative” game, things can get silly really quick. Besides, the other problem I would have with casting a non-Caucasian as Conan–or any Caucasian character–is because it’s self-defeating. If the aim is to introduce more ethnic characters into the arena of popular entertainment, then why not take existing characters originating from such minorities, or make up new ones? What does it say when the only way to get ethnic minorities onto cinema screens, is by riding the coattails of a white character? I may have problems with casting a Hawaiian Conan, but that’s absolutely nothing to do with not wanting to see ethnic minorities on screen. Far from it: a great character is a great character regardless of where he was born or who his mama was, and they shouldn’t need “tweaking” to get on the screen.

It’s just unfortunate this situation has come about at all. It’s utterly bemusing to me that the three finalists to play Conan in a multi-million film were Twilight, Baywatch and Supernatural alumni. With the best will in the world, I can’t believe that there wasn’t a single actor available who more closely resembled Howard’s description. Yet when one remembers the other factors–the script, director, and film company–it starts to make sense. If we had a script that stuck closer to Howard, or at least one that was intriguing enough, would it attract a higher calibre of actor?  Yet even Bassett scored James Purefoy, Max Von Sydow, Pete Postlethwaite and Alice Krige with his Solomon Kane. With unproven Momoa as the star, it bodes ill for the supporting cast. We might be looking at Kull the Conqueror-level dire.

I’m sure some would ask why I’m so bothered about Momoa’s casting, when the script and director are as important, if not moreso. Unfortunately, these people don’t seem to have read the casting sheet, let alone the various scripts wafting through the aether. If we had a great script, solid character breakdown, and powerhouse director, I’d be taking more of a “let’s give them the benefit of the doubt” approach. Such was the situation which led us to Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight: Nolan had proven himself, so he earned the fans’ trust, despite their (in my opinion, groundless) reservations. However, we don’t have any of those things: Nispel hasn’t shown he can do a great Conan film, Momoa doesn’t have any Oscar nominations under his belt, and the scriptwriting team doesn’t inspire any degree of confidence. This isn’t the one thing which will “ruin” the film, it’s merely the latest in a string of disappointments. It’s the straw that broke the mastodon’s back.

To be frank, part of me is actually glad that Momoa got the part. At least this way, we won’t be wasting a perfectly good Conan for a future Howard adaptation. If we got the perfect Conan actor for this train wreck, that would poison the well irrevocably, and that actor simply couldn’t be in a reboot. In a way, it’s a blessing in disguise. Given the choice of having a man who looked like he stalked fully-formed from Howard’s subconscious, and Momoa (or Padalecki or Lutz for that matter), I’d rather save the former for a film that deserves it. A perfect Conan wouldn’t save this film, and this film would waste that perfect Conan.

All in all, it’s probably better this way.