This man is the 1980s.
Heartbroken and dejected, Tarl departs campus alone in his shitty Volvo. Before long, a mysterious storm comes upon him and, blinded by the rain, he rams his car into a tree. The camera pans slowly over the wreckage, until it reaches the driver's seat and we realize - he's not there! Tarl has been transported to the magical world of Gor! So...yeah, that's the mechanic we're working with here: Mystical caves, enchanted books, magical phrases - fuck 'em. The only way to trigger pan-dimensional teleportation to
Where there are no epic set-pieces to distract you from all the impending Physics professor buttcheeks.
Tarl barely has time to take in his surroundings before a scream rips the air, and he spots some sort of commotion in the distance. A band of raiders, who look more like the event staff at Spartacus: Latex and Leather, are busy attacking a village in order to steal their Homestone, the soul of their community. Overseeing the massacre is the sinister Priest-King Sarm, pictured here with his elite warlords...
The Ministry of Silly Hats.
Eventually, one of the horsemen spots and pursues our hero. There's a good solid minute of Tarl spastically running in front of horses, tripping over nets, and flailing in panic, which is more than enough to unhorse and defeat several of the most skilled and vicious warriors of Gor. When the blood rage (and probably asthma attack) fades, Tarl is left wounded and unconscious, but has also killed the bandit's leader: The son of Priest-king Sarm.
He's a third degree black belt at the Jerry Lewis School of Fighting and Froinlavening.
When he awakens, Tarl is being tended to by a slave girl, Talena. Sluts, loincloths, vaguely ethnic women with giant hair - everything the '80s considered sexy is strapped onto some breast implants and set loose to do what she does best: Lust after khaki-clad, pasty nerdflesh, and find new and interesting ways to bend over.
Now, at this point, Gor has all the makings of a rather brilliant little comedy. The premise has a novel sort of potential: A modern day nerd sent back in time to engage in awkward shenanigans with a barbarian horde. But Gor is not a comedy, so instead of an hour of Tarl teaching hulking berserkers the importance of Calculus, we get the shortest, least believable training montage in cinema history.
The montage takes roughly thirty seconds, and consists of only two scenes: Tarl cowering away from a sparring session, then dodging thrown spears without looking, and Tarl fumbling with a quiver of arrows, then splitting them Robin Hood style. Even by the movie's time, he goes from power-nerd to elite warlord in just under an afternoon. To commemorate his entry into soldier-hood, Tarl is given his very own set of armor. It's just too bad all they had left were child's sizes.