Critique: Film> Reviews.

Before Keanu Reeves set the trend for dodging bullets in slow motion, Sly Stallone was chiselling his iron jaw, rather than putting his mind to a script in 1986's Cobra. Crime was a disease; he was a cure -- it was that simple.

Not enough of a plot analysis? O.K, how about: An army of axe-wielding serial killers led by the “nightslasher” decide one day to terrorize L.A. with absolutely no motive (no, I'm not taking the kidding -- the script never actually bothers to explain to us why these people like killing random civilians in the street). Anyway, this prompts Stallone's character "The Cobra" to throw on a trench coat, a pair of aviators, and chew on a match stick as he takes to cleaning up the streets in his neighbourhood. His primary mission is to protect a fashion model (Brigitte Nielson, his ex-wife) who has managed to escape a random attack unscathed.

Whether director George P. Cosmatos meant it or not, Cobra is full of hilarity, it has to be said. I don't know what was going through his mind at the time when Cobra was being made, but surely he must have seen the unintentional funny side to Stallone's screenwriting. In the opening scene, a bad guy walks into a local supermarket and threatens to blow it up and kill the hostages. "Cobra" walks in, cool as ice, and begins intimidating the madman on the tannoy. The good and bad eventually meet face to face, with the terrorist screaming "I'll kill 'em all, man!" Stallone's reply? "Go ahead. I don't shop here!" I nearly wet myself.

It gets funnier. Because Marion "Cobra" Cobretti is really a sensitive guy, he confesses later on to the women he is protecting that he wished he had been born with a much tougher name... like "Alice". We find out that he even likes health food, and advises his partner (Reni Santoni) to try something natural... like prunes. Perhaps the pick of the these corking lines, though, comes when his female witness asks him "do you believe you can fall in love?" Stallone replies "with a woman?" Evidently, dude is unsure about his sexuality.

Cobra's randomness just never lets up. Cobretti's car, a snazzy 1950 Ford Mercury -- which has the number plate "Awsom 50", by the way -- has the kind of seat belts that you'd normally find on an airplane... or tank; the character also eats left over pizza by firstly cutting it up with scissors (how badass is that?) The film also has one of the most random montages I've ever seen: Brigitte Nielsen, in a ridiculous outfit, starts prancing around a group of robots to the sound of Robert Tepper's 'Angel of the City' as she models for a photo shoot. Erm, okay, whatever gets you off, love.

How bad is Cobra? Bad. Really fucking bad. Apart from Stallone's character, the rest of the cast is lame, and the script is bloody awful. Fortunately, because the film doesn't seem to take itself so seriously (really, how could if ever?) and you can at least have a laugh at the dialogue and gawp at the number of decent balls-to-the-wall shootouts, car chases and fist fights. Cobra isn't quite "so bad it's good", but at the very least it's high on camp value and will fill an hour and half or your time if you've nothing better to do.

(C) Andy Carrington, 2008.