Rambo: Last Blood is a marvellous example of the stagnant reality some corners of Hollywood are still stuck in
If there were ever a film made with the intention of promoting gratuitous violence, Rambo: Last Blood would own up with both hands raised high. With an absolute obsession for throwing it’s 18 rating around, never does it manage to back it up. Cold and unnatural, the film follows a step by step guide of how to set up a violent ending, throwing any emotion or sequence it needs to, just to reach its destination. It’s A to B as a straight line, through a minefield.
John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) lives a quiet life with his maid and his niece Gabriela (Yvette Monreal). Acting as her father figure, Rambo tells Gabriela she is banned from travelling to Mexico to find her real father. Defying his order, she travels south, ending up in the clutches of a human trafficking gang with no fear of committing murder.
Void of any reality or normality, Last Blood isn’t the soul searching piece Stallone wanted it to be. It’s lack of emotion means this was an entirely un-achievable goal from its set up. These films work best when they either find some quality, and some humanity, or they accept what they are and go out sprinting. Last Blood had an idea for change that was never going to come to fruition, and should have been redirected past its multiple red flags.
Stallone as a lead, it beyond anything considered emotional, and leaves an impression that young Yvette Monreal would have been a far better choice for the film’s lead. Rambo: Last Blood is a marvellous example of the stagnant reality some corners of Hollywood are still stuck in. Don’t rehash ideas; there’s so much still out there, but luckily the rest of the world is beginning to see it.
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