Amazon review:
A friend of mine once stated that Cobra was "one of the greatest works of art ever committed to celluloid". He's dead now, so I feel okay saying that his comment was patently absurd. Cobra is, in fact, the greatest achievement in human history. More to the point, watching Cobra is like peering into the mind of God.
Following all the movie's plot twists and turns is certainly a test of mental acuity, but under the delicate helmsmanship of director George Cosmatos, even a dullard can expect 87 minutes of uninterrrupted rapture. Based on Paula Gosling's criminally Nobel-overlooked novel "Fair Game", Cobra explores the fragile struggle between civilized society's need for a humane justice system versus its innate lust for exacting revenge. In an increasingly violent, hostile, and lonely world, where apocalyptic serial-killing cults are allowed to infiltrate our power structures (in this case, the police force), slaughter our pop icons in parking garages (Peter Cetera), and clink their axes together in abandoned warehouses, where do we draw the line between cruelty and justice? Where Cosmatos stands on this issue is purely speculative, as he tackles the films denouement with characteristic subtlety and restraint: Cobra impales the maniacal cult leader on a hook conveyor to be immolated in a roaring smelting furnace. It's an ending that will no doubt continue to inspire spirited discourse amongst filmgoers and ethicists for decades to come.
At the center of all this wondrous mayhem is Sylvester Stallone as the hard-boiled "zombie squad" toiler Marion "Cobra" Cobretti. And, surprise surprise!, he is once again at the top of his craft. Here he revolutionizes thespianism with a brilliant new school of character development whereby the actor bypasses the diverse landscape of emotions one would expect from his/her character and instead tenaciously embraces a look of fatigue, angst, and confusion throughout the film's entirety. It's a talent only the likes of Burt Reynolds and a young Dolph Lundgren could ever hope to master.
Need romance? Cobra has it in spades. The chemistry between Stallone and damsel-in-distress Brigitte Nielsen recalls classic Tracy-Hepburn and DeVito-Perlman. This is never more evident than in the infamous diner scene, in which Nielsen squirts a viscous lagoon of ketchup on her french fries before an exasperated Cobretti. This stunning use of condiments only hints at the unbearably thick sexual tension between the protagonists and always lights a fire in my shorts.
The only sad note in this film : wardrobe director Tom Bronson's mind-boggling decision to saddle Cobra's partner Gonzalez (played by an unbelievably adequate Reni Santoni) with a tweed cap throughout most of the action. Yes, the dapper fez lends some street-cred and authenticity to the role, but it isn't until a shootout near the end of the film that the heaven that is this man's gossamer follicles are exposed! Shame on you, Mr. Bronson. Anything less than the unadulterated glory that is Mr. Santoni's vibrant plumage is a crime in my book!!!
Aspiring filmmakers take heed: commit "Cobra" to memory...or take up bricklaying.
GOLD!
Originally posted by Palynka[/i]As a piece of kitsch it is simply priceless, indeed.
Cobra is GOLD!
[i]Crime is a disease. Meet the cure.[i]
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/4/41/Cobra_movie_poster.jpg
Gold!
I would strangle someone to get my hands on that poster in original, by the way.