"You gotta have faith," a cop played by Sylvester Stallone tells a fearful woman he is guarding. Not only is he stealing George Michael's lyrics, Sly is also pinching his wardrobe: Black leather gloves and matching jacket, tight jeans, boots, reflective sunglasses and chin stubble. What Lt. Marion Cobretti is doing on witness protection detail while he could be cruising men's rooms is beyond me.
"Cobra" is a very '80s film, sort of a stupid cousin to the many "Dirty Harry" wannabes being pumped out at the time. The plot is ridiculous even by the weak standards of this genre. A gang of axe-wielding psychos are taking out those they view as "weak" in pursuit of a New World Order. Man, you couldn't wake up any morning in the 1980s without hearing about some new gang of serial killers busting out.
At least Lt. Cobretti is on the job. Better known as "Cobra" or "the Cobra," he carries a special pistol with a cobra head illustration on the handle stock, not to mention an attitude, "just a little one," as he himself admits. Machine guns, grenades, all are found in his tool box, but he keeps a matchstick in his mouth instead of a cigarette, so kids won't get bad ideas.
The killer gang doesn't seem all that subtle, attacking one waitress inside her car on a city street. Yet they carefully guard their privacy to the point that when their facially-deformed leader is glancingly spotted in the act by a model played by Brigitte Nielsen, he pulls out all the stops to kill her. Sending his minions out to get whacked by the Cobra, the psycho sneaks into a hospital where she is being looked after. We get shades of "Halloween II" as she runs for her life through deserted corridors. You'd think he'd give up, especially as he risks being spotted by others trying to kill this one witness, but no, this guy continues after her through the movie, Ahab in a stocking mask.
Yes, indeed, "Cobra" is one stupid film. It's also unpleasant in its stale echoes of reactionary politics, punchy in its attempts at humor, and threadbare in terms of character and motivation. One police supervisor played by Andy Robinson (one of two actors from the cast of "Dirty Harry," Cobra sidekick Reni Santori being the other) whines about Cobra's strong arm tactics, which Cobretti effectively counters by physically assaulting him - twice.
What's good here? The lighting is very effective, giving the film a glitzy sheen very in tune with the time. Though his acting is stiff, Stallone never looked better, which may be why he does so little with his character too busy vogueing. The cars and equipment are cool to look at, and there are some terrific stunts.
But the stunts are done in service of action scenes that don't work. Cobra fights off human-wave style attacks by dozens of motorcyclists who seem to be competing for the best wipe-out. The big shootout at the end is unbelievably protracted, with Cobra hitting everything he aims at with a snub machine gun while not one of the dozens of shootists firing at him manage much of anything.
"This whole sorry ordeal is some damn sick joke if you ask me," Robinson's police supervisor complains. Actually, "Cobra" isn't played as a joke at all, but very straight, a big part of the problem. One useful aspect of "Cobra" is it gives the lie to the phrase "mindless entertainment." In order to be entertaining, a mind has to be working somewhere. When one isn't, the result is this.
"Cobra" is a very '80s film, sort of a stupid cousin to the many "Dirty Harry" wannabes being pumped out at the time. The plot is ridiculous even by the weak standards of this genre. A gang of axe-wielding psychos are taking out those they view as "weak" in pursuit of a New World Order. Man, you couldn't wake up any morning in the 1980s without hearing about some new gang of serial killers busting out.
At least Lt. Cobretti is on the job. Better known as "Cobra" or "the Cobra," he carries a special pistol with a cobra head illustration on the handle stock, not to mention an attitude, "just a little one," as he himself admits. Machine guns, grenades, all are found in his tool box, but he keeps a matchstick in his mouth instead of a cigarette, so kids won't get bad ideas.
The killer gang doesn't seem all that subtle, attacking one waitress inside her car on a city street. Yet they carefully guard their privacy to the point that when their facially-deformed leader is glancingly spotted in the act by a model played by Brigitte Nielsen, he pulls out all the stops to kill her. Sending his minions out to get whacked by the Cobra, the psycho sneaks into a hospital where she is being looked after. We get shades of "Halloween II" as she runs for her life through deserted corridors. You'd think he'd give up, especially as he risks being spotted by others trying to kill this one witness, but no, this guy continues after her through the movie, Ahab in a stocking mask.
Yes, indeed, "Cobra" is one stupid film. It's also unpleasant in its stale echoes of reactionary politics, punchy in its attempts at humor, and threadbare in terms of character and motivation. One police supervisor played by Andy Robinson (one of two actors from the cast of "Dirty Harry," Cobra sidekick Reni Santori being the other) whines about Cobra's strong arm tactics, which Cobretti effectively counters by physically assaulting him - twice.
What's good here? The lighting is very effective, giving the film a glitzy sheen very in tune with the time. Though his acting is stiff, Stallone never looked better, which may be why he does so little with his character too busy vogueing. The cars and equipment are cool to look at, and there are some terrific stunts.
But the stunts are done in service of action scenes that don't work. Cobra fights off human-wave style attacks by dozens of motorcyclists who seem to be competing for the best wipe-out. The big shootout at the end is unbelievably protracted, with Cobra hitting everything he aims at with a snub machine gun while not one of the dozens of shootists firing at him manage much of anything.
"This whole sorry ordeal is some damn sick joke if you ask me," Robinson's police supervisor complains. Actually, "Cobra" isn't played as a joke at all, but very straight, a big part of the problem. One useful aspect of "Cobra" is it gives the lie to the phrase "mindless entertainment." In order to be entertaining, a mind has to be working somewhere. When one isn't, the result is this.