Rambling Rambo
BURMA TAKES SHOTS AT JOHN RAMBO
A Burmese magazine issued a harsh critique of Sylvester Stallone’s performance in the latest installment of the Rambo franchise.
The Voice, a privately owned magazine subject to censorship, says the American actor, whose character saves Christian missionaries being held in the jungles of the country also known as Myanmar, “looks funny fighting a war even though he’s so fat with sagging breasts.”
Burma is jinked. First, it is a convenient villain, one of the few countries that is politically correct and economically safe to attack. Many equally repulsive regimes have the redeeming feature of a surplus of oil. Other monstrous countries can claim a historical excuse for their butchery. For instance, any atrocities in Africa can be rationalized as a reaction to European colonialism; the massacre of 800,000 Tutsi has something to do with Belgian chocolate. But Burma has neither oil nor a plausible grievance against British imperialism. (The Burmese were treated much better than the Irish.)
Even worse for Burma, Hollywood just doesn’t have any more young leading men. The Age of Swashbucklers is over. Johnny Depp, Leonardo DiCaprio and Orlando Bloom don’t look like they could lift a sword; they need computer graphics just to fabricate that exertion. To be intimidating, Matt Damon really should be as tall as the Burmese. Will Ferrell looks more a conventional leading man, so we might as well surrender now.
But perhaps one of our middle-aged actors could terrorize the Burmese. George Clooney certainly has the build and looks of the traditional Hollywood hero, but you know that he would rather be a one-man death squad against Halliburton’s Board of Directors. (And yes, I’d buy a ticket to see that movie.) Tom Hanks never was particularly physical; he is more the type to coax and tutor the Burmese junta into behaving itself. There is Brad Pitts, but we all know that Angelina is the tougher of the two.
For some sociological reason or demographic fluke, all of our homicidal stars happen to be grandfathers. Bruce Willis, Harrison Ford or Sly Stallone may not really look good in loinclothes, but how else can they reassure us that they aren’t wearing Depends? And I find it gratifying that my fellow geezers could still wipe out the Burmese army. So what if Rambo now needs his ammo belts for a brassiere.
A message in a bottle from Dave Traini:
How about sending Carmen Electra over there to have
sex with everyone in the junta? She would give
everyone a venereal disease, perhaps a good case of
Crabs Rangoon. Their brains would turn to mush, like
Al Capone. Democratic groups would take over and
happiness would reign forever.