If we judged movies solely on their promotional posters, then Héctor Olivera’s 1985 fantasy Wizards of the Lost Kingdom would have to be one of the greatest films of its decade. It is a beautifully painted artefact, showcasing a Luke Skywalker-esque hero atop a winged, semi-reptilian tiger. Adorned around him are a lavish castle, a storm-wracked ship, a distant mountain, an alien planet, a helmeted wizard, and – most curiously – the Garthim Master from Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s The Dark Crystal (1982). I was ten years old when this film hit home video in Australia, and could not have been more eager to watch it.

Unfortunately the best storytelling in the film is entirely on that poster, since not one element appears in the actual movie – or, if it does, it a much less impressive fashion. There is a brief appearance by a sort of winged lion, but it is an unconvincing puppet. The helmeted wizard is present, but his helmet has been replaced by a glamorous sort of disco headdress. The Garthim Master, I am sorry to report, does not turn up at all. Instead we are in the world of legendary independent producer Roger Corman, whose filmmaking talents are legendarily surpassed by his frugality with production budgets.

Wizards of the Lost Kingdom is a low-budget fantasy adventure, shot in Argentina because it was cheaper than shooting it anywhere else. It joins a string of South American fantasy films Corman shepherded into production, starting with 1983’s Deathstalker, and capitalises on Hollywood’s brief but intense love affair with epic fantasy in the early 1980s. To save money, footage from Deathstalker is inserted into action scenes and flashbacks. For even further savings, Corman re-uses much of James Horner’s musical score to Battle Beyond the Stars (1980). The sets and costumes are garish and cheap, giving the entire production an odd sort of pantomime vibe.

Its a low-budget, low-value affair, so much so that with the right frame of mind it is all rather delightful and charming. The various prosthetics and costumes used to create an array of fantasy creatures are all rather comical, particularly the faithful sidekick Gulfax (Edgardo Moreira) who resembles a sort of squeaky Wookiee crossed with a poodle. One of the numerous villains wears a comically large Spaceballs-sized helmet, and when he removes it his enormous cyclops-like head is revealed.

The cast have my sympathies, but it is impressive how game they all appear to be. Vidal Peterson is deeply earnest as Simon, a young wizard-in-training called upon to save his kingdom from the evil Shurka. Bo Svenson is remarkably relaxed and casual as the swordsman Kor, and his breezy attitude is strangely infectious. As for the diabolical wizard Shurka, he is played with exaggerated menace and delighted cruelty by Thom Christopher. Of the entire cast, he is the sole member to be unironically entertaining: suave, witty, and wonderfully camp.

You should not misinterpret my amusement: Wizards of the Lost Kingdom is bottom tier entertainment. It was featured on cult comedy series Mystery Science Theater 3000, which is as good an assessment of its quality as any. At ten years old I felt terribly betrayed by this movie. At 48, I am oddly delighted. The film was even successful enough back in 1985 to warrant an in-name-only sequel a few years later. You know it was the poster than earned it that money.