DOLPH LUNDGREN This is potentially the greatest picture ever taken. You know you want to touch him.

And by that, I don't simply mean social, cultural or political advances. I'm talking about the literal evolution of humanity as a species into something more than that which we are at present, something of greater physical, intellectual and spiritual power - the Homo Superior. It scarcely needs to be pointed out just how long we have aspired to this condition, from than the art and mythology of Ancient Greece, to the 20th century phenomenon of superhero comics. Many believe there may well already be supermen walking among us today, waiting for their time.

I put it to you that I know of at least one such being who walks among us, here and now, in full public view. He's a six foot five former military serviceman; a Karate black belt, and two-time European middleweight Karate champion; an actor and director; a speaker of over five languages, with a masters degree in chemical engineering. And he's Swedish. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you perhaps the most accomplished man in the world - all the great masculine aspirations realised in one being. I give you Dolph Lundgren.

Now I realise there are many who might regard this as a rather sinister declaration, to suggest that this sculpted, blonde-haired, blue-eyed European - in other words, the Aryan wet dream come to life - is the embodiment of human perfection. But if we were to hold Dolph at fault simply because of the tone of his skin and hair - why, we'd be no better than Nazis ourselves. Let's not forget the man's multi-linguist status, his mastery and respect of Oriental martial arts, not to mention the fact that he was at one point the fiancé of Grace Jones. Clearly Dolph is a man of the future, pointing the way to a more enlightened age.

And yet, we took the first baby steps on that journey with a simple, brutal, five-word utterance: "If he dies, he dies."

Ivan Drago - ice-cold pillar of Soviet strength, destroyer of Apollo Creed, and surely the most formidable opponent ever faced by Rocky Balboa. Dolph may have made his screen debut as a heavy in Roger Moore's inauspicious Bond swansong A View To A Kill, but it was in Rocky IV that he really exploded into the cinematic consciousness, and there could hardly have been a better role with which to do so. Sylvester Stallone, a man who appears to have spent most of his life aspiring to be something more, clearly recognised the unspeakable masculine power of the great Dolph and sought to siphon some of it to himself by staging battle with him on camera. Of course, what we have never seen was the moment in training when Dolph actually did hit Sly - and hospitalised him for four days. Accident, or divine providence? We may ponder...

While Rocky IV may climax with Drago defeated, and Balboa dedicating the win to US/USSR friendship, Dolph was certainly not out for the count, either as a fighter or a promoter of progressive race relations. Think I'm kidding? Check out the bizarre spectacle that is Red Scorpion. It's an all-American gung ho shoot- 'em-up 80's action movie, that's ...uh... set in Africa. And has a Russian character as the lead. Yeah, that sounds like an easy sell. And the whole thing only seems weirder considering it's from director Joseph Zito, ultraviolence auteur of slashers and Chuck Norris flag-wavers. To think that the guy who made the virulent Commie-basher Invasion USA would go on to make a movie with a Ruskie as the hero, and to actually treat with sympathy the character's struggle between his conscience and his duty to his country: it boggles the mind. Such, it seems, is the progressive power of Dolph; paving the way to a time of harmony between African radicals, Commies with peculiar crewcuts, and fat sweaty expletive-spewing Americans in the form of M Emmet Walsh. It's quite literally multiculturalism in action.

Of course, that movie didn't come around until after Dolph took on his second signature role (and there's a sign of legendary status - when there's more than one). It was of course only fitting that pinnacle of man would portray the most powerful man in the universe. I am referring, of course, to He-Man. And for those of you who thought this article couldn't get any gayer - it's about to.

While the Masters of the Universe movie may have borne little resemblance to the action figure line and cartoon series from whence it was spawned, it's got visual treats aplenty all of its own, not least of which were the extravagant weaponry and figure hugging costumes, seamlessly blending the aesthetics of medieval sword and sorcery with that of sci-fi - not too surprising when you learn they were designed, believe it or not, by the legendary Heavy Metal illustrator Moebius. But whereas Chelsea Field's Teela and Meg Foster's Evil Lyn have the spaces between their metallic crotch and chest plates filled out with a modesty-retaining layer of fabric, with Dolph it's just the codpiece, the boots, and the cape. Beyond that, nothing but 100% griddled tenderised man-meat. Yes, I told you this was going to get gayer. Which is fitting here, as for all that Masters of the Universe may lack in invention and directorial skill, one thing it has in abundance is gayness. Most hero/villain relationships have overtones of sexual attraction about them (remember Arnie and Vernon Wells in Commando?), but Skeletor's feelings for He-Man take it to another level entirely. For at least ninety per cent of his screen time, Frank Langella is lounging on the throne, clutching his big goat-headed staff, murmuring obsessively about how he will make He-Man kneel before him. And who can forget the spectacle of Dolph stripped of his armour, clad in nothing but a pair of black butt-shorts that even Daniel Craig would reject as too petite, being whipped for Skeletor's pleasure? Honestly, I don't think we'd have been too surprised if Skeletor had leapt forward and roared, "You shall writhe on the end of my cock, He-Man! I shall rupture your sphincter and make your anus bleed!"

Which, of course, is surely inconceivable. I find it very hard to imagine Dolph being a taker. And if he gave, by god, he would split the recipient in two like a wishbone.

I'm beginning to wonder if I’ve spent too long thinking about this.

One thing that someone definitely should have spent more time thinking about back then was putting together a Thor movie for Dolph. Nordic blonde giant among men - perhaps it would have been typecasting, but still... and sure, it looks like there's one in the offing now, with the surprising actor-director combo of Kevin McKidd and Ken Branagh, but I can't help wondering what camp delights a movie with Dolph in the lead would have resulted in. It surely couldn't have been a great deal worse than his version of The Punisher, which curiously decided that the traditional black spandex with skull motif was a bit too cartoonish, but that an ageing alcoholic British stage actor would make a suitable sidekick. Hmmm. There's also way too much emphasis on tedious Mafia versus Yakuza politics, and not nearly enough Frank Castle dishing out carnage. (Tom Jane's take had similar problems, though I'm given to understand the upcoming Punisher War Zone more than redresses the balance.) A complete misinterpretation of the character, then, and a complete waste of the manliness of Dolph, even if it did have those bizarre tracking shots zooming through the sewer tunnels and up his naked, greased, immaculately toned butt crack. Still, he makes the black hair dye and battered leathers look good. As if there could be an alternative in the matter.

The black hair dye remained for Dark Angel (AKA I Come In Peace), a day glo Miami Vice-era action thriller whose entertainment value never quite measures up to the brilliant Ed Wood-ish absurdity of the premise; big city cop versus drug dealer from outer space. The whole set-up is only made more ridiculous by teaming Dolph with Brian Benben, who looks a bit short at the best of times. But if nothing else, its existence is justified by the climactic dialogue exchange, as the evil alien hisses "I come in peace," and Dolph replies, "And you go in pieces, asshole." What else needs to be said there?

All this should leave us in no doubt as to Dolph's macho credentials, but I suppose one could be forgiven for not seeing much difference between him and the other musclebound action heroes of the eighties. Other than his increased stature (significantly taller than Arnie or Sly, who don't like people to know they're both under six foot), there may not appear to be anything that sets him apart so definitively. Not so, say I. Unlike all those others, Dolph has humility. One thing which he's not given enough credit for is actually making a point of developing as an actor, specifically his concerted effort to master an American accent, which his fellow European imports Arnie and Jean-Claude never even made any pretence of doing. Dolph didn't demand the roles be tailored to fit him; he adapted to fit the roles, like a true actor. Dolph also stands apart from his contemporaries in that he did not let hubris to dominate his career choices, continuing to accept supporting roles. We've already seen how he was willing to play second fiddle to Stallone; witness how he continued to do so, taking second billing behind Van Damme in Universal Soldier, and even the measly Keanu Reeves in Johnny Mnenomic. Some might call this a B-list actor recognising his limitations and taking whatever work he could get. I prefer to see it as a similar gesture to that of the Bodhisattva, who forgoes the bliss of enlightenment for the benefit of all humanity, choosing to remain in samsara that he way help others find the way.

I mean, come on - if Steven Seagal can be recognised by the Dalai Lama as the current incarnation of one of the Tulkus of Tibetan Buddhism, I should think none of us would have any difficulty with accepting Dolph as a deity of some description; a demigod at the very least. No?

Look, I'm not trying to make out like he's an especially talented actor. I'm not pretending his old films are that good, nor do I have any particular interest in seeing his more recent DTV ones. All I can say is, we need the man as a figurehead. In a world that's being torn apart by ideological conflicts, surely we can all get behind an icon of strength, skill, speed, agility, intellect, passion, and all that is good about humankind?

And by ' get behind, ' I don't mean... ahem.

Okay, perhaps not the most universally accepted idea ever. Never mind. If I've reached out to at least one soul who has read these words, it has not been in vain. In the meantime, let us eagerly await Stallone's next directorial effort The Expendables, in which Dolph and Sly will once again do battle, with Jet Li and Jason Statham in tow. Frankly, if the mere thought of that team-up doesn't get you excited, I'd have to wonder if you are indeed alive.

Now if you will excuse me I'm going to do a quick perusal of Youporn and remind myself that I like chicks.