If there has ever been a film that showcases the hypocrisy of the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) more than Sylvester Stallone’s Rambo I’m pretty positive I’ve never seen it. The organization responsible for the ratings system, it has been a longstanding truth that violence and gore have always been given an easy go of it while sex, sometimes even if it is only implied, is many times given the puritanical seal of disapproval.

John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) returns to kill again in Lionsgate Films' Rambo

All you have to do is look at this rebooting of Stallone’s militaristic 1980’s action superhero for proof. While a picture as profound, intricate and ultimately tragically moving as Ang Lee’s stupendous 2007 opus Lust, Caution got the dreaded NC-17 because of some rough sex, this film, full of blood, gore, eviscerations, beheading, severed limbs, ripped out throats, gauged eyeballs and constant cruelty, gets an easygoing R. It makes absolutely no sense, and for those wondering if the line in the sand for cinematic brutality has been effectively erased I give you this.

Don’t get me wrong. This is a movie about John Rambo, after all, the man a monolithic killing machine who went from wiping out an entire Oregon town, to successfully re-fighting the Vietnam War, to single-handedly dismantling the Russian war machine in Afghanistan, all of it in a little less then a decade. As he states in clunky voiceover, war is in his blood, and if you thought all this time away from civilization (or movie screens) had changed that then you’ve got another thing coming.

But that didn’t make me prepared for this. Bodies explode via landmines in the first five minutes, the film only getting more grotesque and violent from that point on. Right about the 30 minute mark blood is an all-consuming constant, Stallone quite literally going for the jugular and not even remotely afraid to spurt as much arterial fluid across the camera lens as is humanly possible. By the time the bullet-riddled climax it all becomes nihilistically numbing, the disintegrating body parts and exploding heads all looking the same after about the seventy-fifth or so one.

For those who need to know (and why you would is beyond me), Rambo finds the titular loner on the Burmese border having spent the past twenty years eking out a living running a longboat and trying to avoid the ongoing civil war. Against his better judgment, a group of missionaries (led by “Dexter” and “Angel” actress Julie Benz) convince him to take them into the country to deliver much needed medical supplies. After they go missing, the brooding warrior straps back on his trusty longbow and leads a group of hard-core mercenaries into Burma to rescue them. Lots and lots and lots (and lots and lots) of killing ensues.

Listen, this isn’t rocket science, and while the script feels as if it was written in about ten minutes (and probably contained just as many pages) it’s not like anyone is going to walk into it expecting No Country for Old Men. More, to Stallone’s credit it seems as if age has made him a far more confident and visually dynamic director, both this and his fine (almost excellent) Rocky Balboa ample confirmation there. For the hardcore action crowd this is almost a no-brainer, and while I could nitpick large portions of it to death doing so is pointless.

What I can cry foul about is that frustratingly blatant hypocrisy of the ratings board. I have no problem with movies like this being made (lord knows I’ve somewhat embarrassingly enjoyed my fair share of them), I just have a problem with holding them to a lower standard. This movie is not worthy of an R-rating, no way, no how. It makes no sense (much like a Stallone monologue), and in the grand scheme of things all Rambo does is prove that the MPAA isn’t just clueless, they’re practically asleep at the wheel.

-Review reprinted courtesy of the SGN in Seattle

Film Rating: êê (out of 4)

Additional Links:

-  Rambo Theatrical Trailer