Caffeinated Clint
Seems “Last Blood” isn’t so much a gush as a trickle, but for fans of the long running “Rambo” franchise any time at all with the sautéed Jimmy Lile knife will likely suffice.
The fourth sequel to Ted Kotcheff’s gloriously captivating survival thriller “First Blood” – and based on the book by David Morrell – is cinema’s latest equivalent of a large bag of potato chips; sure, there’s some tasty stuff at the bottom, but most of it is filled with vacant air and promise.
Arizona, Bulgaria (a staple of Millennium Media). Farmhouse. Occupants? A silver-haired vet, ‘Uncle John’ Rambo (Sylvester Stallone), his old friend, Maria Beltran (Adriana Barraza), and her granddaughter, Gabrielle (Yvette Monreal).
He spends most of his time working on underground tunnels – “just in case” – that run around the property, while young Gabrielle nags her grandma about going to to Mexico to meet her biological father.
Needles to say, she ignores the request to stay on this side of the border, and after crossing into Mexico, falls heads prey to a horrible slavery ring, one that ‘Rambo’ will have to soon rescue her from.
The piercings in Adrian Grunberg’s film are likely only more noticeable because we expect more from both the headline act and the man that wears the banana. The last film in this series, 2008’s Rambo, was such a solid, commendable instalment, as was Stallone’s Rocky finale “Rocky Balboa” (2006) – a delicately handled, full-circle conclude that served as the perfect end note for Stallone’s iconic boxer.
Like that film, “Last Blood” has also been marketed as the final film in its series. And with that, a certain expectation to tie up the character’s forty year journey fittingly, satisfyingly and grippingly. Unfortunately, none of that occurs here — with the libretto playing out more as simply ‘another chapter’, something that might have worked fine had it had been the pilot episode of a new Rambo spin-off TV series.
There’s little focus on Rambo’s journey and what he’s endured, nor is there a much-needed bookend or sense of peace; instead, there’s a middling plot – one we’ve seen a zillion times before – that feels as old hat as it does, at times, out of place.
Take away the title, and call him something else, and there’s nothing here to suggest a “Rambo” movie. Stallone, at times, doesn’t even seem to be playing the same character from the previous films – with this guy a talkative, meekly chirpy and protective poppa-type, more than anything.
Yet “Last Blood” does come alive – if even a little too late – and it’s ironically during a pivotal death sequence. From here, ‘Uncle John’ leaves the picture and the unstoppable, indestructible boogeyman from the hit series returns – guns illuminating, blades penetrating, bombs ahoying. And it’s that last half-hour of film that saves “Last Blood” from comparisons to any, movie of the month from ‘92 starring Wings Hauser or Oliver Gruner.
A third act that can only be described as “Home Alone with an R rating” is an outrageously gory but super fun time, the kind of jaw-dropping sequence we expect from the vet series. It’s also amazingly shot and superbly choreographed, with the screen an orgy of eye-diverting fireworks that never lets up and seems determined to give audiences their money’s worth.
They will get it, but a better first half – and a plot more resembling a “Rambo” film and less “an all new drama coming to FOX Fridays” would’ve also covered transportation, snacks and the prazosin a few may need after the film’s shockingly violent final moment.
