Directed by:
George P. CosmatosCinematography:
Jack CardiffComposer:
Jerry GoldsmithCast:
Sylvester Stallone, Richard Crenna, Charles Napier, Steven Berkoff, Julia Nickson, George Cheung, Andy Wood, Martin Kove, William Ghent, Dana Lee, John Pankow (more)Plots(1)
Second film in the Rambo trilogy. Former Green Beret John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) is serving time in a federal prison when his old commander, Colonel Trautman (Richard Crenna), arranges his release. A group of American soldiers are still being held as prisoners of war in Vietnam, and Trautman wants Rambo to return to the killing fields on a daring rescue mission. (StudioCanal)
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Reviews (12)
This is an installment I've seen before and I thought this was the actual first Rambo. Now I know my mistake, and I'm quite glad that I clarified this chronology. However, the second film is probably more well-known, partly due to its parodies, such as Hot Shots! Part Deux. Sly and James Cameron wrote a script that isn't just a shallow slaughter; there is something more to it. John Rambo is no longer a man who needs to come to terms with the dark shadow of Vietnam; he must now deal with the consequences of the previous film. But he may pay too high a price for their freedom.
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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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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.
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It's all here - action, corpses, Rambo's stone expressions, blood, of which there is much more than in the first one. Unfortunately, however, there is noticeably less quality filmmaking. The producers tested the audience's reaction with the first film and found that a significant part of moviegoers fall into the category of teenage boys, for whom this is simply enough. The film also had a strong propaganda dimension in the mid-80s, which today can only evoke an indulgent smile. Overall impression: 20%.
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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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