The first half of the title refers to a triple-bladed trick weapon (two of the blades are push-button projectiles, and an additional, fourth blade is concealed in the hilt), and the second half to a genie in a fright mask who speaks at 16 rpm. Neither is put to very much, or very good, use. The nicest inspiration comes straightaway: faces carved on a sarcophagus coming to life when the tomb is violated. But you don't expect great things from special effects when the moviemakers can't even come up with passable wigs, beards, makeup. The actors who suffer these embarrassments (Lee Horsley, Richard Lynch, George Maharis, Kathleen Beller, Anna Bjorn, Nina Van Pallandt, on down to a sort of Rastafarian soldier of fortune) look and speak in too modern-day a way, and the script, as well, allows anachronisms like "Get to the point" and "You handle it" to be mixed in with "It matters not" and "We shall yet crush these rebel dogs." The sloppiness is so pervasive that it would seem the moviemakers were in a rush to get on to the optimistically announced sequel: Tales of the Ancient Empire. They should be encouraged to take all the time in the world on that one. Directed by Albert Pyum. (1982) — Duncan Shepherd
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