Tag: Sylvester Stallone

Rambo: Last Blood

Posted on by Jack Hawkins

It’s been 11 years since we last saw John Rambo kill dozens of people with guns, arrows, knives and even his bare hands – and with good reason. Rambo (2008, Sylvester Stallone) was so genocidally violent that we needed this respite, this breather.

Stallone had seemingly gone mad, directing a film that was far more vicious than the previous three films combined. He lifted the stark, savage aesthetic of Saving Private Ryan (Steven Spielberg, 1998) and applied it to the pulp of the action genre. There wasn’t a single memorable character in it, granted, but as a spectacle of murder it was something to behold.

So when the teasers for Rambo: Last Blood did the rounds, I had flashbacks of gore drenched .50 cal machine guns and all the other wanton gratuity that had so amused me as a 15-year-old boy. Surely Rambo had been a one-off, a moment of madness? After all, The Expendables 3 (2014, Patrick Hughes) was a 12A.

The BBFC’s issuing of an 18 certificate, then, came as a very welcome surprise. Not even the litany of negative reviews – or Rambo creator David Morrell’s abject disgust – could dissuade me from spending £8.50 at the Tottenham Court Road Odeon (there were no press screenings).

Well, the results are mixed. It starts off strongly with Rambo breaking a man’s clavicle, digging his finger into the wound and roughly fiddling with the bone until it breaks off. It’s nice – you don’t see that everyday.

Rambo then visits a brothel wielding not his signature 10” blade but a big metal hammer, which he proceeds to bury in the heads – and crotch – of several punters. This was a bold move to take, because whether it’s Drive (2011, Nicolas Winding Refn), Kill List (2011, Ben Wheatley) or You Were Never Really Here (2017, Lynne Ramsay), we live in a culture that’s saturated with hammer-based brutality. And I’m delighted to report that John Rambo, although being late to the party, decidedly holds his own here.

After remorselessly stabbing and even beheading a few more loathsome goons (he used his knife for that one), Rambo invites the cartel back to his ranch, which sits upon a labyrinth of weaponised tunnels. It is here that John reminds us of the full extent of his bloody ingenuity, using a variety of blades, tools and bombs to dislocate, dismember and destroy. However, while there’s some good stuff in there, it doesn’t match the sheer scale of Rambo’s Burmese massacre (perhaps that should have been the title?), and it’s for that reason that Rambo: Last Blood isn’t quite the send-off I had hoped for.

It is, even to the most nostalgic fan, a shockingly empty piece of work. The revenge plot is the tritest fodder imaginable and the dialogue was clearly written by someone in a catatonic state. Speaking of catatonic states – Sly Stallone’s performance borders on the inanimate. Of course, John Rambo has never been a character of great range, but Stallone’s work here is barely distinguishable from that of The Expendables, Escape Plan and his other recent, derivative efforts. In fact, the whole film is barely distinguishable – and that is a sure sign that John J. Rambo should go on permanent R&R.

Rambo: Last Blood is in theatres in September. On Sky Cinema and NOW on Friday, May 21st (2021).

Backtrace

Posted on by victorfraga

Macdonald (Matthew Modine) attempts to rob a bank, but it goes terribly wrong. He’s left as the only surviving robber, with full-blown amnesia and a $20m stash hidden somewhere in an abandoned concrete factory. A group of young criminals release him from prison and attempt to restore his memory, whilst the police, led by Sykes (Sylvester Stallone), chase them down. The 72-year-old New York actor, despite being top-billed, doesn’t do much here other than just wander around as a gruff detective, as stiff as the abundant botox on his face.

Modine, on the other hand, is one of the film’s few saving graces. He throws himself into the role with relish, taking what is a relatively thin concept and giving it plenty of flavour and also a touch of pathos. It’s soon revealed that he’s no hardened bank robber, but a blue-collar worker forced by financial desperation to take on the role of a criminal. Macdonald and his accomplices used to work in a concrete factory, where bosses have siphoned off pension funds in order to get big loans from the bank, bankrupting the company from the inside. The robbery is some form of revenge.

Vulture capitalism as the culprit behind criminal activity is a recurring theme in heist films (such as Zach Braff’s Going in Style, 2017). In Backtrace, it gives Modine an extra layer of depth to play with. The locations – a world of foreclosed homes, abandoned factories and decaying lots – give the film a creepy feel and also a certain edge.

Despite these effective elements, Backtrace is a mostly drab experience. The dialogue is almost exclusively descriptive. Lines are often repeated, lest audiences too are afflicted from amnesia. The action scenes are hamstrung by a limited budget blown on hiring Stallone and Modine. It’s often the sheer lack of imagination of the filmmaker that shines the most. The gunfights at the opening and the closing of the film consist mostly of men firing at each other from behind a shelter. The camerawork is also quite repetitive and unimaginative. The camera is constantly moving and spinning around, even in the very basic shot/reverse shot sequences. It gets a little nauseating and dizzying after a while.

Ultimately, Backtrace isn’t a disaster. Modine’s performance is strong enough to keep you going. It’s a pity that the director’s hands aren’t as talented and skilled. It’s available on VoD in January 2018.