Cobra
| Year: | 1986 |
| Studio: | Warner Bros |
| Director: | George P Cosmatos |
| Writer: | Sylvester Stallone |
| Cast: | Sylvester Stallone, Bridgette Neilson |
Vintage Stallone. How so? He's once again the personification of American foreign policy during the entire later stage of the Cold War; fuck the bleeding hearts and apologist pinkos, carry a big stick and use it. As the tagline says - 'crime is a disease, meet the cure.'
Cobretti (Stallone, playing another Italian-American superman) is a plain clothes cop who chews matchsticks, drives a 1951 Ford Cobra and talks with his trigger, giving his department the sort of property destruction grief that's long since become a cliché in police movies.
After the requisite introductory sequence of him bringing down a random psycho with his attitude and superpowers, we're launched into a pat plot of Eurotrash villains who carry out killings in the name of sort of cult. When they're seen by innocent bystander Bridgette Nielsen (Stallone's wife soon thereafter) and targeted for death, he takes her under his dubiously over-masculinised protection.
It's not just the politics of the time that infuse (infect?) the whole thing; bad rock music from a band you just know have a synthesiser and big hair frames the emotional scenes, Stallone's full of the same corny quips Schwarzenegger convinced himself his fans loved and the script is littered with shocking jokes designed to make you warm to characters everyone in this day and age should find offensive.
The whole thing is a very poor cousin to Rocky, Rambo and a million supercop shows that remain part of the legacy of the blockbuster age.
Cobretti (Stallone, playing another Italian-American superman) is a plain clothes cop who chews matchsticks, drives a 1951 Ford Cobra and talks with his trigger, giving his department the sort of property destruction grief that's long since become a cliché in police movies.
After the requisite introductory sequence of him bringing down a random psycho with his attitude and superpowers, we're launched into a pat plot of Eurotrash villains who carry out killings in the name of sort of cult. When they're seen by innocent bystander Bridgette Nielsen (Stallone's wife soon thereafter) and targeted for death, he takes her under his dubiously over-masculinised protection.
It's not just the politics of the time that infuse (infect?) the whole thing; bad rock music from a band you just know have a synthesiser and big hair frames the emotional scenes, Stallone's full of the same corny quips Schwarzenegger convinced himself his fans loved and the script is littered with shocking jokes designed to make you warm to characters everyone in this day and age should find offensive.
The whole thing is a very poor cousin to Rocky, Rambo and a million supercop shows that remain part of the legacy of the blockbuster age.