Rambo

Sylvester Stallone is a special case. He started as an actor in a pornographic film and the professional critique expresses itself about him in the style of "master of monosyllabic sentences" or "master of one expression," but Stallone doesn't mind at all, and neither do his fans. For his work in front of the camera, which I wouldn't call acting, he has received an incredible amount of Golden Raspberries for worst acting performances. He has won it ten times and has been nominated thirty times. Among other things, I think he won one for Rambo 2. He is an honorable holder of the title of Worst Actor of the Century. Even the first Rambo movie is rough in terms of his acting performance, but it was compensated by a relatively decent screenplay that dealt with the post-war syndrome, and several character actors were involved. This Rambo has none of that; it's unnecessary to talk about the screenplay. The acting performances are practically non-existent, and the whole film can be reduced to an endless series of fight scenes in the most fairy-tale-like spirit of action movies. I didn't enjoy this kind of fairy-tale story for adults even when I was fifteen. It lacks even the slightest satire or realism. It's just a celebration of killing. It has relatively decent camera work and editing, so I'll give it one star for that. Overall impression: 15%. This kind of film is interesting more from a sociological point of view. People go to see it for the same reason that viewers once flocked to gladiator matches or why professional boxing or wrestling matches are so popular. It's not worth pondering why such productions have such high ratings and effortlessly defeat Oscar-winning films; it's more proof that any rankings are purely indicative, and one must continuously engage their brain. (10/03/2008)

It is evident that Rambo's pump is working for now, he doesn't need a cardiologist and he’s aging with his own grace, i.e. he doesn't argue with it in any way and takes it with gusto. The problem is that from the second episode it follows the same routine (with minor nuances): somewhere something has gone wrong, Rambo is asked for help, he flinches for a while, but then in a fit of altruism he gives in and a liberating, uncompromising fight ensues until the closing credits. Obviously it would be naive to expect anything else from him, but for me, the same tea, brewed for the third time, just doesn't taste as it should. That something is a "total carnage" and "slaughter" is no measure of the quality of a film, although I admit that the rawness, filthiness and to some extent realism of the action is probably unparalleled in the current cinematic mainstream. In fact, if I wanted to make a comparison, Rambo's final "heavy machine gun sermon" looks like a short sequence from Saving Private Ryan (the moment when the landing boat opens up on Omaha Beach and the soldiers inside are under machine gun fire), except that here it is stretched out to about 10 minutes, with all clean gunshots and falling body parts, which gives it a surreal dimension that cannot be taken seriously. For lovers of brutal action sequences, this must be nirvana. PS: If this film pissed off the real Burmese despotic junta, I'd give it 10 stars. (02/03/2008)

A bloody band aid on the helplessness, suffocated hatred and frustration one experiences when watching more and more haunting scenes of genocide. Sly knows the artery of the action genre well and knows that when a person cuts into the right place, then the spilled blood and the lively flying intestines can have a strong therapeutic effect. All the more so because their authorship is the work of a man for whom war was the only known home. I appreciate how little Rambo bets on nostalgia – such conceived action in the 1980s would stand up only in the dream of a mad butcher – how little excess psychology we find in the film, and how few moral questions we can find. It's as bloody as the Old Testament, ethically, of course, completely crazy, yet cleansing and literally pressurized by the most idiotic and most seductive heroic romanticism. Rambo looking down on the battlefield (and his out-of-war defeat) is one of the best images of the series. The series went through some correctness to mature into a delicate meat cut, which is best described by John's "fuck the world". It's all about feeling, and mine was very euphoric watching Rambo. It's completely idiotic at its core, but it's not really about the core. (10/08/2010)

The hardest action movie of all time delivers incredible brutality, presenting the legendary hero as we have never seen him before: full of sadness, anger, and resignation, only a woman will put him back on his feet and show what he is made of. Stallone knew exactly what to shoot and how to shoot it. The plot is simple, dynamic, and more than enough. The action is balls to the wall, and the fact that they highlight these killings as a result of the war-torn Burma only helps the cause. A film that is unbeatable for fans and a must-see. A success on all fronts for Stallone and confirmation that he is far from finished. And when he stands in a jeep behind an anti-aircraft machine gun, feeding it with fist-sized bullets and firing a salvo, you realise you have never seen anything like it before. So far, the best film of the year. (23/02/2008)

The eighties strike back! The most brutal pensioner on the planet makes a return, this time staying somewhere half way between the believable rawness of part one and the B-movie over-the-topness of part two. What it lacks in terms of story, it makes up for with high marks for style of presentation. It’s true that at the beginning you laugh a couple of times over occasional laughable dialogs “worthy of thought", but you have fun all the same. However, after the “metaphor" with the box, it all reverts to its old ways. Just considerably more brutally. Much more brutally. The elderly ferryman is as efficient at his work as he was when he was young, and especially Rambo’s fighting symbiosis with the School Boy could have done with a greater number of scenes. Although Stallone as a screenwriter was disappointing, as a director he maintains solid craft until the very end by scattering images reminiscent of past episodes throughout this movie. And as an actor? A classic. One expression, a hard stare, muscles pumped up with steroids (he really needs that canon at the end because he couldn’t even put the logs he has instead of fingers on any regular trigger), excellent physique and his one and only acting invention of “half-closed eyes" for expressing sadness in scenes where he isn’t allowed to kill anybody. An A-grade brutal B-movie with a rejuvenated testosterone-pumped mastodon with all the trimmings. And if you don’t like that, then, in Rambo’s words: Go home. This makes the fourth Rambo the second best in the series. Who would have believed that about two years ago? --- P.S.: Thank you for the strangely missing episode number which made the Hardened Viewer festival at the Aero movie theater in Prague even more fun than expected. (20/02/2008)