Rambo: First Blood Part II

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John Rambo is removed from prison by his former superior, Colonel Samuel Troutman, for a top-secret operation to bring back POW's still held in Vietnam. Rambo's assignment is to only take pictures of where the POWs are being held, but Rambo wants to get the POWs out of Vietnam. Teamed up with female Vietnamese freedom fighter Co Bao, Rambo embarks on a mission to rescue the POWs, who are being held by sadistic Vietnamese Captain Vinh and his Russian comrade, Lieutenant Colonel Padovsky. Rambo falls in love with Co Bao, and when Co Bao is killed by Captain Vinh, Rambo wants revenge, so he starts killing every enemy in sight while still focusing on his intentions to rescue the POWs. There are also corrupt American officials involved in the mission, including Marshall Murdock, one of Rambo's superiors. (official distributor synopsis)

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Necrotongue 

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English Unlike the first First Blood, the creators didn't let the viewer discover the movie's message on their own. Instead, they continuously hammered it home, which, in my eyes, somewhat devalued the entire experience. In contrast to the previous film, this time, it was all about action, and as such, I suppose I should forgive it for many things. The movie was filled with clichés, which I can't fault because these films were the birthplace of such clichés. My critique is directed at the creators who persist in using them today. I get that Soviet technology might not have been accessible during the Cold War, but if an Aérospatiale SA 330 Puma could stand in for a Mil Mi-24, why not use another machine produced in Europe instead of the overused Bell 212? The action itself was well-executed and satisfying, but I couldn't overlook the mishandled details. The sound accompanying the firing of each arrow was so loud that Rambo could have been running with an AK. Artillery mines fired from mortars would probably have to hit someone directly because the creators purposefully omitted their terrifying fragmenting effect. And here's a piece of advice: never, I repeat, never use any rocket launcher in a small enclosed space. Aside from these issues, it was a typical 80s action fairy tale, which I sometimes find laughable, but I enjoy it nevertheless. / Lesson learned: If you're too young to remember 80s movies, go for something more recent. ()

DaViD´82 

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English The change in style away from the low-key and raw part one is perhaps a little too extreme. John Rambo’s second battle for survival unfortunately degenerated into a pure B-grade action movie. Although the truth is it’s quite fun. Here in the Czech Republic, though, Rambo: First Blood Part II will more likely be remembered as one of the first VHS cult movies, rather than a movie known for its qualities. ()

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Kaka 

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English Not nearly as good as the first one, Rambo II is a typical example of the sequel syndrome: a bigger budget, more action, more visual effects, less story, less atmosphere. The beginning is still quite interesting, as it practically starts right where the first part ended, but then it goes downhill. ()

Lima 

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English I have a lot of nostalgic memories of my childhood, when the "forbidden" Rambo was a myth for me and my friends during the Bolshevik era, a film that circulated on poorly dubbed cassettes. I'll never forget how we watched it at a friend's house and I felt like the biggest dissident under the sun, or like Rambo. When I saw it again years later, I had to laugh at what a naive but still brisk action film it is, and the fond memory of the weird 80s, full of bad taste :) ()

Marigold 

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English Rambo destroying computers with a shower of lead is one of the most beautiful mementos of the 1980s, as if Stallone was taking revenge on what would destroy his beloved genre. Paradoxically, in terms of psychology and ideas, the second film doesn't seem so far behind the (already quite retarded) first film, even though, instead of subjective nostalgia, programmable agitations are coming out of Rambo's mouth at the end. Cosmatos's film fits much more into the archetypes of the action 1980s and is irresistibly wooden and theatrical (or entertaining) in the most heated moments. The number of explosions is enormous, the pilot of the largest possible Soviet helicopter has not one red star on his helmet but two (so there is no confusion), and a POW with a machine gun in his hand, as if to remind the viewer of the beautiful ideological mishmash that ruled action Hollywood at the time. Can such a film not be loved even a little? ()

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