Watching Rambo for something brainless.
For a moment there, I almost did a web search to find movie “flaws” on it. I’m sure some CSI nerd has done a treatise on why trajectory science means it’s impossible for Rambo to have pinned that Vietcong’s head to the post with an arrow like that, given he was crouching in the bushes. I mean, that’s some magic bullet bullshit.
But thank god I stopped myself just in time.
CONVENIENTLY, the Russian Lt-Col speaks fluent English and the Vietcong understand. Because everyone speaks English, of course!
The only people who think everyone speaks English are English-speakers. I once tried to order tweaks in a shawarma place in Madrid, so a Persian guy asked a Spaniard to ask a German if he could translate for us. He could not. A Frenchwoman translated for me to the German, who told the Spaniard, who told his Persian coworker to give me half falafel, half shawarma.
Sure, you electrocuted him and tortured his buddy, but you killed Rambo’s girlfriend AND made him get muddy in the tropical downpour while burying her. In short, you’re fucked now, Charlie. You can’t run and you can’t hide, ‘cos Rambo’s on the rampage now, Chuck.
Wondering if this is a Rambo-Harry Potter mashup, because Rambo has a curiously regenerative supply of arrows for his bow, for a guy who had to cut his pack off when he got caught mid-jump from his plans.
It’s magical! All the arrows you could need!