Hard to believe this is the film Sly wanted to turn "Beverly Hills Cop" into. You'll notice a "based on the book" credit in the opening titles, but I feel that was just a courtesy. Paula Gosling's novel was (apparently) based on a woman who falls in love with her cop-protector. The amount of the book used probably amounts to that previous line.
From there, Sly puts his own unmistakably vain 80s stamp on this gut-busting mess, which he at least makes watchable in that "what a POS" kinda way. Penned by the man himself, in full self-serving flower, he plays yet another near-comatose renegade. Always adorned in mirrored sunglasses, scratchy beard, and obligatory mouth-matchstick, he mumbles his way through dialogue I can't imagine him not howling at as he typed it.
Obviously inspired by the "Night Stalker" killings of the previous year (1985), he gives his villain the similar moniker of the "Night *Slasher*." His change to the actual events is that it's not just one psycho, but a group of them, who spend countless hours in a factory, clanging hatchet blades together and spouting interminable rhetoric about "The New World." Our first evidence of this is the utterly infamous opening sequence involving a supermarket nutbag.
Upon randomly blasting a number of Charmin and Cocoa Pebbles buyers, Stallone's "Cobra" is called in to put a stop to the madness. No mention is made of him being a hostage negotiator; he just roars up in an aged car and storms the building, to the dismay of his cop-detractors. Several memorable one-liners later, we're off to the main plot involving Nielsen's character being targeted by said wacko regime.
Throw in some Rambo, Friday the 13th slasher elements, and Halloween II hospital madness, and you have "Cobra." You know you're in bad shape when the first MTV montage is only about twenty minutes in. Then at the hour mark the film's tank hits empty, limping to its 600 shot-dead motorcyclists and steel factory finale.
With all that said, if you like embarrassing star-trips, you may last through the whole thing. Sly's knee-slapper characterization (bumping gang-bangers cars, using a remote control despite being inches from his TV) has enough stunningly stupid moments to pull you along. There's also eye-squinters like the bad lady cop who speaks at times like a drag queen, and the innumerable amount of back-up nutcases who show up on motorbikes, who had not been seen to that point.
Not to be overlooked, Sly even gives himself John Wayne's original given first name: Marion. The ultimate thrill would be to sit down with him to watch this thing, no doubt counting the times he puts his hand up over his face in shame.
From there, Sly puts his own unmistakably vain 80s stamp on this gut-busting mess, which he at least makes watchable in that "what a POS" kinda way. Penned by the man himself, in full self-serving flower, he plays yet another near-comatose renegade. Always adorned in mirrored sunglasses, scratchy beard, and obligatory mouth-matchstick, he mumbles his way through dialogue I can't imagine him not howling at as he typed it.
Obviously inspired by the "Night Stalker" killings of the previous year (1985), he gives his villain the similar moniker of the "Night *Slasher*." His change to the actual events is that it's not just one psycho, but a group of them, who spend countless hours in a factory, clanging hatchet blades together and spouting interminable rhetoric about "The New World." Our first evidence of this is the utterly infamous opening sequence involving a supermarket nutbag.
Upon randomly blasting a number of Charmin and Cocoa Pebbles buyers, Stallone's "Cobra" is called in to put a stop to the madness. No mention is made of him being a hostage negotiator; he just roars up in an aged car and storms the building, to the dismay of his cop-detractors. Several memorable one-liners later, we're off to the main plot involving Nielsen's character being targeted by said wacko regime.
Throw in some Rambo, Friday the 13th slasher elements, and Halloween II hospital madness, and you have "Cobra." You know you're in bad shape when the first MTV montage is only about twenty minutes in. Then at the hour mark the film's tank hits empty, limping to its 600 shot-dead motorcyclists and steel factory finale.
With all that said, if you like embarrassing star-trips, you may last through the whole thing. Sly's knee-slapper characterization (bumping gang-bangers cars, using a remote control despite being inches from his TV) has enough stunningly stupid moments to pull you along. There's also eye-squinters like the bad lady cop who speaks at times like a drag queen, and the innumerable amount of back-up nutcases who show up on motorbikes, who had not been seen to that point.
Not to be overlooked, Sly even gives himself John Wayne's original given first name: Marion. The ultimate thrill would be to sit down with him to watch this thing, no doubt counting the times he puts his hand up over his face in shame.