Rambo

As soon I saw the posters, trailers and commercials, I was excited to see Rambo because I knew it had the potential to be the worst movie in the history of movies. With Stallone more pumped up than Barry Bonds, and an anything-but-stealthy internet marketing campaign featuring the most grisly scenes of violence I have ever witnessed (Heads were exploding! On the internet!), Rambo appeared to be a movie so bad even Lindsay Lohan would be sitting around some bar breathing a sigh of relief that she wasn’t in it. Rambo doesn't disapppoint.

Set in the jungles of Thailand (I didn’t know they delivered human growth hormone to the jungles of Thailand), along the border with Burma (or Myanmar, which ever you are supposed to call it), John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) tries to live out his life as quietly as possible, even as his inner turmoil and haunting memories of what he has been through make it difficult to sleep at night (but make for a trip down memory lane for Rambo fans as we see highlights of the other movies). A group of missionaries lead by Michael (Paul Schulze) and his girlfriend, Sarah (Julie Benz), ask Rambo to take them up river in his boat, so they can provide medical needs and education to the poor people caught in the middle of the Burmese Civil War (Yes, Rambo wants to escape violence and war, but lives a quick boat trip away from the longest running civil war in modern history).

Rambo knows they shouldn’t go, but Sarah has the kind of pluck, pureness of heart and all around hotness to convince the old war horse to help them out (Give the guy a break. He has been alone in the jungle for about 20 years. Kathy Bates could flutter an eyelash his way and Rambo would be revving up the boat to take her across the Pacific).

When the missionaries encounter danger, and their preacher, Arthur (Ken “The White Shadow” Howard), asks Rambo to help again, is the animal within our hero ready to pounce?

Rambo is one of the most grotesque, gruesome and gory movies you will ever see. Cows are butchered in more humane fashion, and, at least, they are tasty. What’s the point of doing this to humans?

As director and writer (if only performance enhancing drugs helped with your writing, directing and acting skills), Stallone abandons any pretense of creating a story, characters, or plot twists with anything resembling depth. The entire movie is one long crescendo to the moment when Rambo starts to take on the entire Burmese army and the audience is treated to an orgy and celebration of violence featuring the villains getting decapitated, limbs being severed, heads blowing up, people finding themselves eviscerated into two and more! It was so horrifying, I started having ‘Nam flashbacks, and I wasn’t even born then! Can you get Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from watching a movie?

Plus, you have to laugh at the simplistic, two dimensional portrayals of each character and the whole scenario in general. Stallone want us to know Rambo is a real man, so he keeps putting Rambo in scenes that are just ridiculous, but supposedly macho.

Rambo is such a real man, he captures snakes!

Rambo is a such a real man, he fishes with a bow and arrow!

Rambo is such a real man, he pounds metal!

Even Chuck Norris is supposed to quake in his boots a little bit.

Sadly, all of this gives Stallone the Actor a chance to sway wildly between stiff as stone and chewing the scenery, tossing away subtlety along with good taste and sensibility.

Just when you think the acting is bad enough, Stallone the Writer fills the movie with ridiculous platitudes like, “live for nothing or die for something” and “this is what we do”. This writing is thinner than Nicole Richie on the South Beach Diet as he attempts to create slogans that will live on like some of the classic lines from the first three movies because it’s not about the story - it’s about what you can put on a t-shirt. Then, Stallone the Director overdoes all of the background music pounding us with a sweeping, swelling and soaring score that never stops. It completes the utter assault on your eyes, ears and soul.

After watching Rambo, I feel like I need to rent Cinderella, so I can feel clean again.

Rambo is rated R for strong graphic bloody violence, sexual assaults, grisly images and language.