Sunday, January 27, 2008


My favourite film of the year so far is one of extreme mayhem, violence and righteous devastation of murdering and raping genocidists.
Rambo's back.
It was a touching, sentimental, representation of a feeling, tortured war veteran escaping his past by meditating at a chamomile farm far from civilization. Sort of an "Under the Tuscan Sun" for men.
And I loved it - especially seeing what CGI can do with a large band of evil-doers and a 50 Cal MG.

Geoff Pevere of the Star, an irritating mugwump of a film reviewer, of course, had to make a political point of it:
Will he settle in this time, or will he once again find himself "going Rambo" somewhere deep in the heart of his home? And what will he make of all those newly minted Rambos, the next generation of walking wounded coming home from yet another unpopular and seemingly unwinnable war?
But from what I can see, the resisting deserting walking wounded of this next generation (all volunteers), ran away to Canada to chase hippy chicks.
Here's what I have to say about them.

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