First Blood
is not a bad movie. It’s actually an
historically important film; it represented a redemption for the antihero. It
also spearheaded the way for America’s closure with Vietnam through cinema.
I say redemption, because while John Rambo is like Travis Bickle on steroids,
enacting violence that makes Taxi Driver seem like Bambi, Travis
was never accepted by mainstream society as a hero.
Most people wouldn’t even consider considering First Blood a film to
discuss seriously. To that, we owe its two sequels, and all of the other super
action heroes that came in its wake. This film was as influential in its
glorification of masculinity through the representation of firearms as Dirty
Harry was a decade earlier.
As directed by Ted Kotcheff, best known for The Apprenticeship of Duddy
Kravitz, First Blood is a somewhat morally ambiguous tale of a
Vietnam vet suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, who’s pushed too
far by a precinct of small town police.
The film constantly reminds us that while the cops treated him with excessive
force, he’s definitely crazy. This is an integral aspect of the film that I
believe has been disregarded -- first, by the populous, who simply saw in him a
hero -- and second, by the critical establishment who remember John Rambo as an
invincible killing machine from the sequels. He was human here. And insane.
In David Morell’s original 1972 novel, Rambo was killed by his father figure
Colonel Trautman. Kirk Douglas, originally slated to play the role before
Richard Crenna stepped in at the last moment, believes to this day that the
politically and artistically correct conclusion was to have Rambo die. It
was shot. The test audiences hated it. The ending was then reshot to feature
Rambo’s nervous breakdown, followed by his arrest.
The original material depicted Rambo as a psychotic who goes on a kill-crazy
rampage through a town. His character was much more in the mold of real life
1960s figures, such as Charles Whitman and Mata. Both were militarily trained,
and then turned on the public. Whitman, a former marine, went on a
sharp-shooting rampage at the University of Texas. Mata, a self-chosen name for
Mark Essex (it’s Swahili for “bow”), was a black radical who went AWOL
from the Navy, and took a Howard Johnson’s hostage.
In reality, both men were ultimately killed on the site of their attacks. In
this movie version we’re given dramatic resolution and hope.
The most noticeable thing about the film is its restrain. It’s grounded in a
definable reality -- small town U.S.A. Most of the weapons used by Rambo are
readily available and, while we all thought he had superhuman strength and could
shrug off any injury, in this movie he screams in pain every time he moves his
injured right arm. Regardless of the fact that he courageously sewed it up in
graphic detail.
Rambo became an icon. I still remember as a defining experience in 1985, seeing Rambo:
First Blood, Part II, on its opening night, and when Rambo, breaking rocks
in prison, turned around to face the camera for the first time, the audience
exploded with applause.
In retrospect, this was dangerous. I think these movies helped to glorify
assault weapons. When I was a kid we all knew about M-60s and M-16s. They were
cool. We knew about them from these movies. There’s perfluence of these
weapons throughout our society today, some 20 years later.
Looking at Part II now (it was co-scripted by James Cameron), it’s
sick, vile trash. We’re rooting for a man to kill as many people as possible.
While the main enemy has switched to the Viet Cong and the Soviets, there’s
still a negative slant on the U.S. government. That’s not my problem. What is,
is the body count. And the constant close-ups of Rambo’s gun firing, as he’s
shooting it -- like he’s screaming: “I’m more masculine than you!”
After First Blood, there was a wave of similarly themed films. There
were, among others, the Missing In Action series starring Chuck Norris as
a vet who goes back to Vietnam to rescue MIAs, Uncommon Valor, also
directed by Ted Kotcheff, about a father who brings a group of soldiers with him
to rescue his son from a POW camp, and The Park Is Mine, starring Tommy
Lee Jones as a vet who takes Central Park hostage. This was subsequently taken
over by the serious-minded Vietnam films Platoon, Full Metal Jacket,
and Hamburger Hill.
What was left in its wake, however, was that superhuman action hero. Sylvester
Stallone ran with it in Cobra, and Arnold Schwarzennegger went even
further in Commando, The Terminator, and True Lies.
Nowadays, it’s in the form of The Rock or Vin Diesel -- though where the 1980s
films were strictly rated R, this new batch is cartoon friendly PG-13.
Technically, First Blood was gorgeously shot on location in Canada by
Andrew Laszlo. His compositions are rarely in close-up, choosing instead to
present the characters within the rustic Northwest setting. There are several
well-staged single-shot setups that favor staging over editing.
Most of the acting is competent. Sylvester Stallone gives his final human
performance before becoming a cartoon; this work belongs aside Rocky and
Night Hawks. Brian Denehy as Sheriff Teasle, is perfectly smarmy. Richard
Crenna as Col. Trautman, is so hammy he makes William Shatner look like William
Hurt by comparison. There are also early appearances by David Caruso and Bruce
Greenwood (try spotting him).
There aren’t many extra features -- a documentary, bios and trailers. The
documentary is good, though it smooths over the actual production, which was
over-budget, its star over-paid, and was filled with injuries and delays. Many
at the time thought this roll would destroy Stallone. He took care of that with
later films.
So, if you’re looking for a well-crafted action film, I’d recommend this.
It’s a step above the norm. Just avoid the sequels. -Jamie Stuart
-Copyright 2002 by
Jamie
Stuart