The
most sensitive and intelligent movie about nuclear war ever directed by
Sylvester Stallone. The Ruskies are shooting up all their athletes with
steroids so they can dominate the Olympics, wiring people up to Radio
Shack computers and turning em into killing machines. That's what happens
when Ivan Drago (Dolph Lundgren of Red Scorpion and Masters Of The Universe) comes to Vegas to fight Apollo Creed. Ivan was a mere
7-foot-2, 280-pound boxer before the Russians started working him over
with hormones and turned him to a breathing Caterpillar tractor. So he
turns Apollo's face into a Grape Nehi fountain, and Sly Rocky Rambo has to
put on a set of Ray-Bans and deliver the eulogy: "There's a lot I could
say about this man, but I don't guess it matters now." There's only one thing to be done: fly to Siberia with Burt Young, leave your wife at home cause she doesn't understand stupidity, wrestle some oxen to get in shape, run up to a mountaintop, throw out your arms, and start screaming like Julie Andrews during an electrolysis treatment.
In other words, time for 30 solid minutes of paint-the-ring-red Sequel Fu in Moscow.
Two breasts (Rocky's).
Nineteen gallons blood.
Twenty-two beasts (all Communists).
One dead Apollo Creed.
Gratuitous James Brown.
Kung Fu.
Robot Fu.
KGB Fu.
Pour-a-bunch-of-water-on-Rocky's-face-and-watch-him-sling-it- off Fu.
With the ubiquitous Burt Young, as the sidekick with no purpose who sits around listening to Singing Chipmunks Records,
Brigitte Nielsen as Drago's wife,
Dolph Lundgren as "The Siberian Bull" Ivan Drago,
Carl Weathers as Apollo Creed moonwalking to his death in Vegas,
Talia Shire even though she doesn't have anything to do for the second "Rocky" in a row, and, of course,
Sylvester, who stars, writes, directs, beats people up for world peace, and says,
"We're changing--we're, like, turning into ordinary people."
