Rambo

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)

It’s been a very, very long time since I regretted that a film about nothing other than killing isn’t longer. The last Rambo is a B-movie with Russian digital effects shrouded in nostalgia that is more physically intense than any megalomaniacal blockbuster by Michael Bay. Two spectacular scenes (the first ascent with a bow, the bomb), perfect genre purity and the character of John Rambo – that’s what it’s all about and it’s more than enough. “Don’t say anything and just go.” Nothing more needs to be said about the closing musical motif by Jerry Goldsmith. Had Stallone added more minutes and developed the characters more, this could have been the best action film of the year. (26/02/2008)

The renowned humanist John Rambo is back with everything that made him famous in his glory days. There are more wrinkles and Rambo is no longer a handsome and brutal killer, but just a brutal killer, yet at the same time everything is compensated by a huge effort to prove that even at the blessed age of 60 a man can be an untouchable action icon. I don't know about you, but for me the 80 minutes full of brisk action, blood and flying limbs, in which the first ten minutes are spent talking and the rest uncompromisingly destroying "unfortunate" enemies, was proof enough. Sly rulez!! (14/08/2012)

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)

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)