The Movie: Tango and Cash (1989)
The Sly: Raymond ‘Ray’ Tango, a well-read, bespectacled Beverly Hills detective with a hot sister and a conspicuously absent sex drive.
The Plot: When detectives Tango and Cash (Kurt Russell, the loose cannon to Stallone’s uptight prick) brush up against criminal kingpin/rodent fetishist Yves Perret, he somehow gets them thrown in the slammer, from which they must escape and clear their names.
The Feel: Confusing, even for a Stallone flick. The entire sequence of events leading Tango and Cash into prison is a whirlwind of plot holes, and shows a profound misunderstanding of the American judicial system. Compounding on this, the film makes no effort to describe, even in passing, what may or may not be happening between scenes. As a result, whatever anger we should be feeling about Stallone and Russell’s imprisonment is diffused by the fact that we have no idea how long they’ve even been there.
Inexplicably: The role of Tango itself. To put it nicely, the character is far outside the range that Stallone can play believably. Fortunately, the writers recognized this, and limited his “classiness” to the clothing he wears and the newspaper he pretends to read.
Prison?: Yes. Kurt Russell and Stallone even share a somewhat lengthy prison shower scene, in which they compare penises.
The Movie: Cobra (1986)
The Sly: Marion ‘Cobra’ Cobretti, a hyper-violent detective with a strong distaste for “rules”, “laws”, and “talking”.
The Plot: When a cult of serial killers starts terrorizing Los Angeles, the police department has to call upon Cobra to do what they won’t: kill indiscriminately.
The Feel: Very, very dark. The serial killer cult does not mess around, and we get to see them murder a lot of people. The police are completely ineffective at stopping them, mainly because they insist on a bunch of pussy liberal bullshit, like reading people their rights. Fortunately for us, Cobra doesn’t believe in anything but horrible, horrible violence. The closest he comes to proper police procedure is to whisper, “You have the right to remain silent,” before burning a man to death.
Inexplicably: Every one of Cobra’s one-liners is absolute garbage. In one scene, the police commissioner tells Cobra that he has an attitude problem, and Cobra’s response is “Yeah, but it’s just a little one.” Whenever Cobra and his partner try to engage in some light-hearted banter, Stallone mumbles so much that you can’t make out half the things he says. Also, there’s a really strange and overlong montage that cuts back and forth between footage of homeless people and robots.
Prison?: No. I don’t think Cobra would let anyone live long enough to even get to prison.
Movie: Demolition Man (1993)
The Sly: Detective John Spartan
The Plot: Simon Phoenix (played by Wesley Snipes), John Spartan’s criminal arch-nemesis, tricks him into blowing up a school bus full of kids. Both of them are cryogenically frozen, but when someone mysteriously thaws Phoenix out 40 years later, Spartan is reawakened to find and seek his revenge.
The Feel: Lots of jokes about the future, lots of stupid one-liners, lots of explosions, and a little ham-handed social commentary. Despite a number of flaws (some pretty corny dialogue, goofy special effects, Rob Schneider), the movie holds together pretty well – Snipes and Stallone look like they’re having fun, and no one takes the storyline too seriously.
Inexplicably: At one point in the movie, lieutenant Lenina Huxley (Sandra Bullock) asks Spartan if he’d like to have sex. The ensuing minute or so is among the most disgusting things I have ever seen on film, and they don’t even get naked. In fact, they don’t even touch. How? Well, it’s the future, dummy – they put helmets on and make stupid faces at each other from across the room. It sounds tame, but the combination of Stallone’s expressions and the noises he makes is enough to put you off sex for weeks (and I watched all of Party at Kitty and Stud’s). And just in case you can survive the abstinence onslaught that is future-sex, you get to hear Stallone refer to old-fashioned corporeal fucking as “boning,” “the wild mambo,” and “the hunka-chunka”.
Prison?: Yes. Prisons of the future contain all the accoutrements necessary for a good final battle: lasers, guns that shoot electricity, big blocks of ice, cranes, and a machine that instantly freezes anything it touches.
The Movie: Over the Top (1987)
The Sly: Lincoln Hawk (or Hawks, this is never explained), a truck driver/deadbeat dad/professional arm wrestler.
The Plot: Using his wife’s impending death as an excuse, Lincoln Hawk attempts to reconnect with his young son via the staple of American life: road tripping. The wife kicks the bucket, Hawk’s father-in-law takes custody, and for some reason Hawk must compete in the World Championship of Arm Wrestling to get his child back.
The Feel: Kind of a Frankenstein’s monster vibe, like the movie was originally two movies that were chopped apart, sewn together at random, and then electrocuted back to consciousness. Just as the bad-at-parenting storyline hits an insurmountable snag, a new story about arm-wrestling and fat rednecks is introduced, and, conveniently, they resolve each other. Adding to the disjointed feel, the story is all about Stallone’s intense dedication to his son, and yet he is clearly not capable of being a parent (he forces his 10-year old son to arm-wrestle a larger boy with a mullet, lets him drive a semi-truck, and oh, I don’t know, abandons him for most of his childhood).
Inexplicably: The movie is named after Lincoln Hawk’s super-secret arm-wrestling move, where he pivots his hand “over the top” of his opponent’s just as he’s about to lose to gain some mechanical advantage. This move would be a hell of a lot cooler if it weren’t blatantly illegal under professional arm-wrestling rules, something I assume no one in the film was interested in looking in to.
Prison?: Yes, for driving his semi into his father-in-laws living room. This is another obvious example of the whole “wants-to-be/shouldn’t-be a parent” problem.
The Movie: The Party at Kitty and Stud’s, or The Italian Stallion (1970)
The Sly: Stud, aka “The Italian Stallion”.
The Plot: Kitty and Stud have sex. Then they have a party, and have more sex. Then some friends of theirs have sex.
The Feel: Believe it or not (I didn’t at first), Sylvester Stallone’s first movie was a low-quality soft-core pornographic film. It was actually re-released (under the name The Italian Stallion) after Stallone struck it big with Rocky, and it’s obvious that the soundtrack, as well as some of the dialogue, was altered to reference his more successful venture as much as possible. As for the viewing experience, short of seeing Stallone’s penis, the movie is an unarousing mess, mixing equal parts embarrassing dialogue (“I’ll be velvet-mouthed on your shank of love”) and poor editing with long, boring sex scenes in which you can clearly see the actors looking behind the camera for instructions.
Inexplicably: I admit that I’m not well versed in 70′s porn, but there were some things that struck me as very, very bizarre. For one thing, the oboe is not a sexy instrument, no matter what people are doing when it’s being played. For another, there is no discernible value in having a man eat a banana and talk about bestiality while being fellated. None.
Prison?: Thankfully, no.
~ David Groves
