Directed by Marcus Nispel Starring Jason Momoa, Rachel Nichols, Ron Perlman, Rose McGowan, Stephen Lang 112mins, general release, Cert 15a

Back in 1982, right-leaning auteur John Milius brought Robert E Howard’s sword and sorcery narratives into the outsized Reaganite years with a convincing thwack. Howard’s Conan had been smarter than the average barbarian but Milius’s was strong, silent and bookended by quotes from Nietzsche.

“What is best in life?” asks Conan’s master. “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women,” comes the standard, heavily accented response.

The film was the perfect vehicle for young Austrian bodybuilder Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose slaying, humping and grunting seemed to articulate the grandiloquence of the era more than words ever could. A sequel, Conan the Destroyer, soon followed in 1984 but the franchise then languished in development limbo, a victim of its star's increasing box- office might and eventual move into politics.

Unsurprisingly, the newer, sleeker and belated reboot has been shorn of its 1980s muscle beach excesses. Jason Momoa is convincingly growly and buff in the title role but his arms could not easily be mistaken for portside on a yacht; the explicit sex scenes are fewer in number and confined to the one lucky wench; the barbarian’s bloodlust is contextualised by childhood trauma.

In Conan 2011 the drama is post- Game of Thrones, the action is post- Saving Private Ryanbut the psyche profile is Oprahconfessional. Mako's Samurai Jack voiceover and Basil Poledouris's Warnerian score are no more. Where Milius trumpeted will to power, Pathfinderdirector Nispel cares only for high-octane fight sequences and quasi-believability.

In this spirit, the gaudy lighting and lurid Technicolor of the original has given way to fast stock, dark skies and maggoty naturalism. Mostly, this is a welcome development. No matter how one pines for the kitsch of the Milius film it was never going to work in a contemporary cinema governed by faux-vérité. It falls to Ron Perlman and Rose McGowan to fly the flag for comic book hyperbole; he's Conan's dad, she's his occult nemesis – both lively condiments.

But what's this? Just as the 2006 remake of Black Christmaspilfered from its 1974 predecessor and most of Silent Night, Deadly Night, Conan the Barbarianseems to have acquired the plot of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khansomewhere along the way. We can't complain; if you're going to steal, it's always best to go for the big score.