Directed by Wake in Fright filmmaker Ted Kotcheff, the 1982 ‘vetsploitation’ flick is brutal, destructive and tragic – just like the world that men created
I
t was the early 80s, and Sylvester Stallone was on a roll. After years of making ends meet with bit parts, background artist work and pornography, he wrote and starred in Rocky in 1976, breaking into mainstream success. Before long he had carved out a new niche, writing, directing, and acting himself into stardom with a string of tough-guy movies including two hugely successful Rocky sequels.
Then came Rambo. The character is peak 80s Stallone, a byword for pure testosterone. An absurd, improbably muscular slab of ham with a headband and an M60 machine gun, spraying bullets at racial caricatures in a jungle or a desert somewhere.
Which is a shame, because the original film is truly great.
