<Review by: Sailesh Ghelani>

Directed by Adrian Grunberg. Starring Sylvester Stallone, Yvette Monreal, Paz Vega, Adrianna Barraza, Sergio Peris-Mancheta, Oscar Jaenada

Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes

For all of its stabs at extreme violence and gore, Last Blood comes across as depressing, hopeless and no fun at all.

After several decades of not being Rambo but paranoid enough to prepare for the worst – he builds a network of tunnels underneath his ranch – John Rambo, old and decrepit, must protect his adopted daughter Gabrielle (Yvette Monreal) from her quest for an answer and some very nasty gang lords when she goes in search of her real father in Mexico.

When you think that Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Terminator had more charisma in his left arm than Stallone has in this film, you realise something: that evolution of an actor over time is important. I’m not thrilled at the thought of watching Arnie in yet another Terminator film either. But I’m glad he did films that showed him in a different light and tested his acting muscles instead of his gym muscles. And while Sly isn’t at an age (73) to take off his shirt anymore, he is also not in a position to be ripping out a guy’s heart with his bare hands (and yes, he does this!).

Mexico is portrayed as a land of drug dealers, pimps, gang lords and prostitutes. Donald Trump would be pleased. There’s a journalist (Paz Vega) whose sister was kidnapped and forced into prostitution and killed, who tries to help Rambo save Gabrielle from the evil guys. Instead of going to them, he decides to bring them to his ranch, which he booby traps to the hilt and then mows some 30 or 40 of them down after they’ve been hit by axes and 9-inch nails. It’s gross, senseless violence that makes you cringe at points.

There is no joy, happiness, salvation or real pleasure of revenge here. I remember in John Wick, after they kill the puppy, how he goes on the rampage to destroy all the men who did that; it was cathartic and satisfying as well as being fun and pleasurable to watch. Last Blood feels empty and its production values are terrible. Even the man who wrote the original Rambo book, one which the first film was based, disavowed this latest instalment saying he is ‘embarrassed’ by it. (Read that article here)

The only good thing about it is the end credits montage of clips from the first four Rambo movies. It makes you want to go back and watch those to wash away the bitter taste of this pessimistic and joyless piece of over-the-top carnage that is as vapid as Stallone’s eyes. I dread the thought of the new Terminator film and watching Linda Hamilton and Arnie as geriatric killing machines. Go retire to some place please and stop killing our childhood memories!