“Ator, we are brother and sister.”

Justin’s rating: How much keefe is in this movie? Miles O’Keefe!

Justin’s rating: This is a love story for all ages. A love story between a man… and a woman. Between a hunter… and a villager. Between a brother… and a sister.

I mean, I’m usually not one for Conan-esque swords-and-sorcery movies. They only serve to remind me of how many muscles I lack and how much of my life I haven’t spent wading knee-deep in the gore of my enemies. But when there’s sister marrying going on, well, I’ll make the time, if just to spit out my breakfast cereal in disbelief.

So our incest-happy hero is Ator, a guy with far more hair than brains. He was born a chosen one and sequestered away to a tiny little village to grow up in peace. And, of course, to fall in love with his sister — whom, he is delighted to discover, is his adopted, rather than blood sister. Does that make it better? No, not really, but Ator the Fighting Eagle has a whole lot of territory to cover after this off-putting introduction, and so we must be away without a glance back.

After Princess Leia is kidnapped away from her Luke, Ator goes on a meandering road trip to get her back. Well, that and to fulfill his “destiny,” find some sweet gear, and defeat the Cult of the Spider. Who are the Cult of the Spider? Just a bunch of dudes who bought tarantulas from the exotic pet store and spend their days letting them crawl all over their bodies. Ator is distinctly anti-spider, so a squishing is in session.

Without a sister to marry, Ator focuses his attention on his newfound friends: a small bear and an ’80s fitness coach-turned-thief named Roon. They hunt down stuff like “the Shield of Mordor” without any regard to copyrights, hang out with fellow barbarians in bars, and investigate oh-so-many caves. Also, every woman who appears in this movie is legally obligated to throwing herself at Ator as if he was a $20 Kohls Cash card.

Not that Conan the Barbarian was Oscar-worthy material, but Ator the Fighting Eagle makes Arnold’s entry come across as Renaissance-era art. Ator is full of lackluster acting, lackluster combat, and lackluster explanations. Often, there’s no reason given for what’s going on or who is who, but you kind of roll with it because it’s the mock-worthy kind of dumb that makes you feel smugly intelligent.

Hey, I need that smug. If I don’t get my daily dose of smug, I’ll deflate and collapse in upon myself like a 10-year-old gym kickball. And yes, I spent two minutes sitting here while writing this thinking, “What is a believable length of time for a kickball to become worn and unable stay inflated? Eh, 10 years sounds good.”

Anyway, Ator the Fighting Eagle kicked off a series of these Italian-produced films that left litter all across the movie highway and then demanded that you pick it up. If you’re up for bad spider puppets and genuine shadow fighting, it might be worth a laugh, but otherwise it’s only a movie to be used to crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women.