Rambo: Last Blood

This B-movie works thanks to nostalgia for John Rambo and Sly. And also thanks to the sufficient work with emotions (however basic they may be). Last Blood takes its time and gives plenty of space to all of its few characters in the simple story. Because of that, the climax is surprising and seems unpleasantly rushed, while lacking the energy accumulated in the build-up and coming up short with the catharsis that the film was aiming for and which should have been substantially more powerful. (01/08/2020)

Rambo could actually choose between two genres. Either following in the footsteps of the first installment, it could have been a drama about war trauma or the godless action carnage of an unbreakable machine along the lines of all the other installments. Except it doesn't have a second option because of the protagonist's limitations, and it's too stupid for the first one. Because of the protagonist's limitations. Sylvester Stallone is one of Hollywood's most annoying stars. His incessant need for self-presentation, dabbling in scripting and production, grandiose declarations and the gloriola of his own supposed wise old man's modesty twisted the entirety of Rambo: Last Blood into a very agonizingly twisted corpse that is incapable of meeting even the simplest expectations of an action movie. The first twenty minutes are a celebration of honest work, in which we watch a sweaty Stallone exercise a horse, a sweaty Stallone hammer a nail, a sweaty Stallone spin some wheels, or a sweaty Stallone forge an iron bar. There are no action scenes in the film, just a bunch of shots of the protagonist hitting someone with a hammer or a knife. The final confusion, where we watch fifty people casually walking down identical corridors and randomly falling into some traps, is the most disturbing film finale of the year. Most importantly, please make this 'old-school and honest' spectacle all animated next time. Who's supposed to watch those digital flames and funny pools of blood? (12/21/2019)

Eighty minutes of tired old-man melancholy without a drop of action and fifteen minutes of a sped-up Home Alone ripoff. This is, in short, Rambo: Last Blood. Did anyone actually want that? After a high-quality, action-packed and especially ballbusting fourth movie, which should have ended the series with all its dignity intact, came this practically unjustifiable lullaby, built on a banal script and forced emotions for one-dimensional supporting character shoehorned into an established series, who the audience is expected to feel for. A forgettable sequel with ugly CGI effects and a picture undeserving of the character John Rambo. (01/12/2021)

The story is simple as a Justin Bieber fan, but surprisingly it does makes sense. Like the previous episodes, this is a prime Republican flick, where even the Bulgarian production background doesn't matter. And Stallone, even though he's over seventy, is still badass, he doesn't come across as over-the-top in his iconic position, and it never occurred to me while watching that he should call it a day. And many thanks for the lack of political correctness, Sly never gave a toss about that. (09/20/2019)

A solid farewell to Rambo, and even though the critics are grumbling I'm almost excited. Sylvester Stallone still has it, and he's as respected as an angry bull. Story-wise the film brings nothing new and follows the revenge template, but thankfully it takes place in the unpleasant setting of Mexico, which I simply enjoy, and the ubiquitous filth is portrayed quite solidly. The biggest asset though is of course the final half hour, which takes the best of Home Alone and Saw and is literally a parade of gore scenes that will have you drooling and sweating. In the finale, Rambo: Last Blood becomes an exploitation horror film, and there hasn't been a bigger carnage since Evil Dead. I felt physically uncomfortable as I haven't in a long time when he breaks that collarbone. Those who want to find faults will find them, and those who want a great 90 minutes will enjoy the film. 85%! (09/25/2019)