Fourth Blood

Stallone Kills, Kills, Kills in Another Over-the-hill Sequel
 By Morgan P Salvo

Let’s get this straight right off the bat, something I’m sure we ALL know… DO NOT MESS WITH RAMBO. This movie sledge hammers that fact home combining preachy stereotypes and super-gore! After you get over the WHY?, parts of it are alright. Rambo opens with grisly authentic stock footage of the atrocities in Burma (oddly never referred to as Myanmar). Stallone said he wants this movie to carry a “real” message so people will become aware of the genocide that plagues Burma, but then he chucks himself into a fake-ass drama smack-dab the middle of it, allowing him to do a bunch of heroics, “find” himself and kill tons, and I mean tons of people in the meantime.

From the jungle noise and hollow flutes soundtrack, emerges John Rambo (Stallone) thick and beefy, mumbling expletives immediately. Seems he has been hunting snakes to sell, and fishing with his bow and arrow, giving handouts to fellow river-riding Buddhist monks. And apparently that’s all you need to know. Without any plot development the stoic silent now non-mumbling Rambo is quickly dispatched, against his better judgment, to take some religious medical people up river to help the villagers that are being ill-treated by Burmese soldiers in that region. In route they are confronted by wicked Burmese pirates and with a single twitch Rambo goes all Rambo on them, shooting everyone in sight, shocking all involved. He delivers the missionaries and leaves, though a feeling of doom prevails.
There’s a montage/dream sequence (flash backs of 1-3) where Rambo struggles with his inner self…he comes to this conclusion, “I don’t kill for war, I kill for myself.” This being established, he feels all better now. He then gets wind that the missionaries have been captured by soldiers and will be duly tortured. Off goes Rambo with a gruff buncha mercenaries. The attempt to convey these thugs as tough renegade misfits falls flat. They all look like they went to computer school. Except the Scottish guy who squares off with Rambo, only to wimp-out later. The Burmese soldiers on the other hand are portrayed as sadistic fiends. They play a form of Russian roulette (reminiscent of Deer Hunter) wherein captives are forced to run through rice paddies strewn with land mines. Those who don’t blow up are shot. In typical Hollywood and Stallone fashion, there is a sunglass-wearing, cigarette-smoking, mustache-sporting, boy-preferring, super villain commanding and masterminding the bloodshed.

Predictably, as soon as the mercenaries witness the suicide game they hide. Who shows up to exterminate the soldiers with bow and arrow? Yep you got it. After that it’s Rambo’s way or the dead-body-laden highway. With the odds against them (100-10) he still gets the mercenaries all charged up with this Ramboism: “Which would you rather do? Live for nuthin’ or die for sumthin’?” The response is a unanimous battle cry to start the slaughter. They go undercover of night and rain while the Burmese soldiers are distracted, watching Thai women do what can only be explained as “the humiliation dance.”
This movie is a relentless bloodbath, heavy on action and ammo – huge guns, gargantuan explosions and even a devastating Claymore mine. You’ve got your disembowelments, throat ripping, and a plethora of hacked-off limbs. Heads explode, (lots of them) bones shatter, blood spews, guts fly. Suffice it to say this is not for the squeamish.
One scene that really bugged me: when what’s left of the missionaries and mercenaries are captured, about to be executed, they all start equally crying, whining and sobbing their heads off. Mercenaries crying? C’mon Sly. We all know Rambo is THE toughest bad-ass…you don’t have to rub our faces in it. But then in a stereotypical Rambo/Stallone move, there is the inevitable showdown between the most despicable bad–guy and the forlorn good-guy, but done with extra gore. I liked it.
Rambo has a full circle ending which I can take or leave—over the top schmaltzy music, all that “finding ones self and you can never go home or can you” crap. This Rambo lacks the glistening pecs and abs of the other movies…he still has the headband… but he’s kinda chunky, keeping his shirt on looking more world-weary, haggard, and even believable.
This isn’t a great movie by any standards but at the very least showed some insight to Rambo’s character and Stallone’s who can’t seem to toss out the corny with the carnage. Maybe the next one of Sly’s written/ directed/ starring projects can be Rocky vs. Rambo— now that would be something to see. With filmmaking’s technology and Stallone’s sequel record, anything’s possible.

RAMBO

Starring: Sylvester Stallone, Julie Benz, Paul Schulze
Directed: Sly Stallone
2 stars