If you spent any time scanning the aisles of a Blockbuster in the late eighties or caught the midnight movie rotation on basic cable, you’ve probably seen it. That dusty, sun-drenched poster. A rugged hero who looks suspiciously like Indiana Jones but carries a little more... grit. We’re talking about the Temple of the Sun movie, officially titled Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold. Released in 1987, this movie is a fascinating relic of an era when Hollywood was obsessed with the "adventure serial" revival. It’s weird. It’s campy. Honestly, it’s kind of a miracle it exists at all.
Most people confuse it with a dozen other treasure-hunting flicks. That's fair. The eighties were saturated with whip-cracking clones. But this one? It has Richard Chamberlain. It has a very young Sharon Stone. And it has some of the most baffling production stories in cinematic history.
The Cannon Films Chaos
To understand why the Temple of the Sun movie feels the way it does, you have to look at Cannon Films. Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus were the kings of the "B-movie" empire. They didn't just make movies; they churned them out like a factory. They saw the success of Raiders of the Lost Ark and thought, "We can do that for half the price and twice the speed."
They weren't wrong, technically.
They decided to film King Solomon's Mines and its sequel, Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold, back-to-back in Zimbabwe. It was a grueling shoot. Budget cuts were everywhere. If you watch closely, you can actually see the seams. The "Temple of the Sun" itself—the titular City of Gold—is a marvel of painted backdrops and practical sets that look like they might fall over if someone sneezes too hard. It’s charming, but man, it’s low-budget.
The script was loosely based on H. Rider Haggard’s 1887 novel, Allan Quatermain. But "loosely" is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. The movie traded the Victorian stoicism of the book for 1980s slapstick and pyrotechnics.
Why the Cast Matters
Richard Chamberlain was already a massive star because of Shogun and The Thorn Birds. He was the "King of the Miniseries." Seeing him jump into an action-adventure role was a pivot. He plays Quatermain with a sort of "I can't believe I'm doing this" smirk that actually works. Then there’s Sharon Stone as Jesse Huston. This was years before Basic Instinct. She’s essentially the damsel in distress who screams a lot, a trope that hasn't aged particularly well, but her screen presence is undeniable even then.
👉 See also: Is Heroes and Villains Legit? What You Need to Know Before Buying
James Earl Jones is also in this. Yes, the voice of Darth Vader. He plays Umslopogaas, a fierce warrior with a giant axe. Seeing an actor of his caliber running around a Zimbabwean set with a prop axe is one of those "only in the eighties" moments that makes the Temple of the Sun movie worth a re-watch. He brings a gravitas to the role that the script probably didn't deserve.
The Plot: More Than Just Gold
The story kicks off with Quatermain and Jesse heading to Africa to find his lost brother. He’s supposedly found a legendary white race living in a hidden city of gold. Along for the ride is a cowardly psychic named Agon and the aforementioned Umslopogaas.
They hike. They fight "savages." They fall into pits.
Eventually, they find the City of Gold. It’s ruled by two queens—one good, one very, very bad. There’s a high priest named Agon (played by Henry Silva) who wants to sacrifice everyone to the Sun God. It’s classic pulp. The stakes are simultaneously world-ending and incredibly silly.
What really stands out about the Temple of the Sun movie isn't the plot, though. It's the aesthetic. The costume design is a wild mix of "ancient civilization" and "1980s music video." There’s a lot of gold lamé. A lot of headbands. It feels like a fever dream because it was a fever dream for the crew. They were working in intense heat, dealing with political instability in the region, and trying to finish a sequel before the first movie had even proven itself at the box office.
The Special Effects (Or Lack Thereof)
We have to talk about the gold. In the movie, the "Temple of the Sun" features a literal lake of molten gold. In 1987, CGI wasn't a thing for a budget like this. They used practical effects—basically shimmering liquids and clever lighting. Sometimes it looks okay. Other times, it looks like someone poured orange soda over a miniature set.
✨ Don't miss: Jack Blocker American Idol Journey: What Most People Get Wrong
There’s a scene involving a "lava" pit that is legendary among bad-movie aficionados. You can almost see the stagehands shaking the floor. But that’s the soul of the Temple of the Sun movie. It’s earnest. It’s trying so hard to be an epic with about 10% of the necessary funds.
The Critical Drubbing
When the movie hit theaters, critics were not kind. It currently sits at a pretty dismal percentage on Rotten Tomatoes. People called it a cheap knock-off. They hated the humor. They thought the acting was over the top.
But here’s the thing: time has been kind to this movie.
In a world where every Marvel movie looks like a sterile gray box, there is something deeply refreshing about the Temple of the Sun movie. It’s colorful. It’s shot on location. The dirt is real. The sweat is real. The actors are actually standing in a jungle, not in front of a green screen in Atlanta.
It’s a "guilty pleasure" for many, but I hate that term. If you enjoy it, you enjoy it. There’s no guilt in appreciating the sheer ballsiness of Cannon Films trying to out-Raiders Spielberg.
Practical Takeaways for Fans
If you’re planning to dive back into the Temple of the Sun movie, or maybe see it for the first time, here is how to actually enjoy the experience:
🔗 Read more: Why American Beauty by the Grateful Dead is Still the Gold Standard of Americana
- Watch the Prequel First: King Solomon's Mines (1985) sets the tone. It’s slightly better funded and helps you understand the Quatermain/Jesse dynamic.
- Look for the Goofs: This is one of those movies where "goof-spotting" is a sport. Look for the modern equipment visible in the background or the obvious stunt doubles. It’s part of the fun.
- Contextualize the "White City": The movie deals with some outdated "lost tribe" tropes. It’s a product of 1880s literature filtered through 1980s sensibilities. Acknowledge the kitsch and the colonialist roots of the genre.
- Check the Score: The music was composed by Michael Linn, using themes originally written by the legendary Jerry Goldsmith for the first film. It’s surprisingly good and way more "epic" than the visuals sometimes suggest.
Where to Find It
Finding a high-quality version of the Temple of the Sun movie can be tricky. It occasionally pops up on streaming services like Tubi or Pluto TV for free (with ads). There was a Blu-ray release by Olive Films a few years back that cleaned up the grain significantly, though it’s now a bit of a collector's item.
If you’re a physical media nerd, keep an eye out for the "Double Feature" discs. They often packaged this with the first movie, giving you the full 180-minute saga of 80s adventure cheese.
The legacy of the Temple of the Sun movie isn't one of cinematic excellence. It’s a legacy of ambition. It represents a time when you could get a mid-budget adventure movie into theaters just by promising "action and gold." It doesn't need to be Lawrence of Arabia. It just needs to be a fun ninety minutes of Richard Chamberlain punching guys in the desert. And on that front? It absolutely delivers.
To get the most out of your viewing, skip the modern "remakes" or the later Quatermain TV movies. Stick to this 1987 disaster-piece. Grab some popcorn, turn off the "prestige TV" part of your brain, and enjoy the molten gold.
Actionable Next Steps:
Locate the 2015 Blu-ray release if you want the best visual experience, as the streaming versions are often poorly compressed 4:3 crops. For a deeper look at the production, research the "Cannon Films" documentary Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films, which provides essential context on the madness behind the scenes.