This is meant to be about anything/everything to do with Rambo, either the character, the film series or whatever else. Now, I realize a certain level of political commentary is woven into the movies and so it's kind of unavoidable. But at the same time, let's try keeping things reasonable with any discussion that might ensue.
What I tell myself is that I don't know if it's possible to save the world. But if it's possible to save the world, it's not my job to save the world. But if it's my job to save the world, I won't save the world by posting a bunch of stupid political bs on the Internet. And neither will you.
Anyway, so I rewatched First Blood tonight. The reason First Blood plays for me better than any of the sequels is because John has a pretty straight forward set of issues. He was plucked up out of nowhere, taught to fight and kill and survive, sent off into a pointless war that he wasn't allowed to win, got booed when he came home and then got abandoned as he tried reentering civilian life. One day, one too many people mouth off to him and he snaps.
Everything that happens in First Blood comes from those simple facts.
John is not presented as a hero so much as the product of a sick society with a fixation on war. John lashes out against a society that would turn men into killers and killers into useless pathetic drifters. The initial fight in the police station was obviously John getting triggered by the worst case of PTSD I've ever seen. But after that episode ends, he's back in his "right" mind. He knows what he's doing and he doesn't let up.
But at the same time, John isn't above showing mercy. He could've easily killed all of the deputies who pursued him into the woods. But he lets them go to prove a point. Teasle (Brian Dennehy) is ultimately the one who escalates the situation into a full blown crisis. John offers Teasle the last miniscule sliver of mercy he has left. And he utterly wastes it.
There's a school of thought that Vietnam was such a bizarre, insane, tragic episode in America's history that Americans needed a lot of years to process the full magnitude of its horror. Things like First Blood, Apocalypse Now and other things are symptoms of America trying (and arguably failing) to make sense of the nonsensical.
Me, well, as a Millennial, Vietnam doesn't have the same truck with me that it does previous generations. For that reason, I prefer to rise above the weeds a bit and process First Blood as a more general Man Against Society conflict. A very flawed and damaged man. First Blood plays for me for generally the same reason Falling Down does; they're both dense stories about a man at the end of his rope who finally gets pushed over the edge and lashes out. These are not heroic, honorable men. And yet, it's difficult to not have some kind of sympathy for them.
All of this is a long way of saying that First Blood has a heart and a purpose that the sequels just plain lack or, hell, don't even aspire to.
The older I get, the less use I seem to have for sequels. Not for the first time I find myself thinking that First Blood is better off as a one-and-done story rather than the opening salvo of an ongoing film series.
That's not to say that the sequels don't have merit. There are some good ideas going on there. But in First Blood, the bullets and the explosions come from a place of anger, conflict, disgust and, finally, personal vengeance. Whereas, in the sequels, the carnage is meant to be part of the marketing appeal. That's not a bad thing but it's also not really what First Blood was up to in showing John basically singlehandedly take down a small town all by himself.
Anyway.
What I tell myself is that I don't know if it's possible to save the world. But if it's possible to save the world, it's not my job to save the world. But if it's my job to save the world, I won't save the world by posting a bunch of stupid political bs on the Internet. And neither will you.
Anyway, so I rewatched First Blood tonight. The reason First Blood plays for me better than any of the sequels is because John has a pretty straight forward set of issues. He was plucked up out of nowhere, taught to fight and kill and survive, sent off into a pointless war that he wasn't allowed to win, got booed when he came home and then got abandoned as he tried reentering civilian life. One day, one too many people mouth off to him and he snaps.
Everything that happens in First Blood comes from those simple facts.
John is not presented as a hero so much as the product of a sick society with a fixation on war. John lashes out against a society that would turn men into killers and killers into useless pathetic drifters. The initial fight in the police station was obviously John getting triggered by the worst case of PTSD I've ever seen. But after that episode ends, he's back in his "right" mind. He knows what he's doing and he doesn't let up.
But at the same time, John isn't above showing mercy. He could've easily killed all of the deputies who pursued him into the woods. But he lets them go to prove a point. Teasle (Brian Dennehy) is ultimately the one who escalates the situation into a full blown crisis. John offers Teasle the last miniscule sliver of mercy he has left. And he utterly wastes it.
There's a school of thought that Vietnam was such a bizarre, insane, tragic episode in America's history that Americans needed a lot of years to process the full magnitude of its horror. Things like First Blood, Apocalypse Now and other things are symptoms of America trying (and arguably failing) to make sense of the nonsensical.
Me, well, as a Millennial, Vietnam doesn't have the same truck with me that it does previous generations. For that reason, I prefer to rise above the weeds a bit and process First Blood as a more general Man Against Society conflict. A very flawed and damaged man. First Blood plays for me for generally the same reason Falling Down does; they're both dense stories about a man at the end of his rope who finally gets pushed over the edge and lashes out. These are not heroic, honorable men. And yet, it's difficult to not have some kind of sympathy for them.
All of this is a long way of saying that First Blood has a heart and a purpose that the sequels just plain lack or, hell, don't even aspire to.
The older I get, the less use I seem to have for sequels. Not for the first time I find myself thinking that First Blood is better off as a one-and-done story rather than the opening salvo of an ongoing film series.
That's not to say that the sequels don't have merit. There are some good ideas going on there. But in First Blood, the bullets and the explosions come from a place of anger, conflict, disgust and, finally, personal vengeance. Whereas, in the sequels, the carnage is meant to be part of the marketing appeal. That's not a bad thing but it's also not really what First Blood was up to in showing John basically singlehandedly take down a small town all by himself.
Anyway.