7. Treason, Thy Name is Lesbian
If 80’s Action taught us anything, it’s that our men like it gay – very gay – and the women, well, if they’re not blissfully naked or dead, they’re firm, unalterable lesbians. Not here and there, not sometimes, but always. And if they swing in that direction, they most assuredly believe in violent revolution. Maybe it’s the patriarchy, the oppressed poor, or the usual bugaboo of racism, but whatever the cause, they are not content with the status quo. Take Nancy Stalk (Lee Garlington). She’s so steadfast, so utterly committed, she’s working from the inside. A double agent. Triple, if she takes a feigned interest in a cock or two along the way. Say what you will, she’s the ultimate Method actor: she’s got the voice, the hair, and the attire, all locked down to such an extent that even a battle-hardened cop like Marion Cobretti can’t see through the bullshit. Nancy’s first order of business is to have Brigitte Nielsen sent to Jesus, sure, but she’s also about the long game. A world remade. The fulfillment of a man-hating destiny.
6. Crime: A Kinda-Sorta Problem
The opening narration says it all: “In America, there’s a burglary every 11 seconds, an armed robbery every 65 seconds, a violent crime every 25 seconds, a murder every 24 minutes, and 250 rapes a day.” Given that the director is Golan-Globus stalwart George P. Cosmatos, I have no reason to doubt the numbers. But it’s the final statistic that really stands up and takes notice – 250 rapes. A day! Every day, naturally; 24/7, 365. Round-the-clock sexual assault, and this is with Dutch Reagan in the White House. What the fuck would be unleashed if that Dukakis pansy took power? But that’s the circle that needs squaring. Right-wing fanatics run the show, yet America is still in the shitter. But then you drill down. Of course. Stands to reason. The Judges. The Courts. Maniac juries led by effete cucks and the women who love them. Arrests are made, the fuckers are set free. Over and over again, Even if they kill dozens. Especially if they kill dozens. Flash forward to 2026: meet the new boss, same as the old boss.
5. Battle Axes and Swimming Pools
If a revolution is afoot, grab your weapons. Guns and ammo in a pinch, sure, but if you really want to send the peasants running for the hills, grab an axe. Not to slam into stomachs and skulls, mind you, or to chop down the doors of the damned, but rather to clank. Synchronized, like a Broadway show. In empty swimming pools. Making music, just like the old days. Only this time, the tune is all about the New World Order. Led by the Night Slasher. Fine, it’s not exactly a moniker that took him the better part of a weekend to dream up, but it’ll do. It’s scary and sinister without being head-scratchingly esoteric. Blunt, like the axe blades in that beautiful chorus line. You know the one: like a Village People reunion, complete with lawyers, cops, construction workers, and doctors. Some even swear they saw a few notable athletes. Finally, a group set on conquest that isn’t embarrassingly ragtag. No, these are the best and brightest, polished and spit-shined, hitting their marks. God love ‘em.
4. A Beautiful Pizza Pie
Okay, so it’s come full circle. Back to those infamous scissors and the pizza slice plucked from the world’s most notorious freezer. It’s been talked to death at this point, but will remain the singular obsession of my existence. Two centuries hence, it’ll still be the front and center of any cinematic conversation. I even bought a commemorative t-shirt just to keep up appearances. I’m that nuts. But so is the scene. I’ve seen Cobra dozens of times and still can’t penetrate the mystery. Why the scissors? Why not use your mouth? Or your hands? Or just eat the whole goddamn slice? Who takes just one bite of anything in this life? Cobretti did just that and set the internet ablaze forevermore. It just might be the top unanswered Hollywood question since the days of the nickelodeon. Cosmatos is long dead, so that’s that, but I can always put my faith in a long-lost journal. Or a death bed confession. Or hope to God Sly Stallone appears at a local film festival and I can corner him once and for all. Sadly, time is running out and I’m far from a young man.
3. Taglines from Heaven, Cobretti Edition
“You’re a disease, and I’m the cure.”
“This is where the law stops, and I start, sucker!”
“Hey dirtbag, you’re a lousy shot. I don’t like lousy shots.”
“I don’t deal with psychos. I put ‘em away.”
“As long as we play by these bullshit rules and the killer doesn’t, we’re gonna lose.”
“Like I said, you gotta tell it to the judge.”
2. A Marriage Made in Hell
Sylvester Stallone and Brigitte Nielsen were married on December 15, 1985. According to reports, they had just started filming Cobra in October of that same year. So it stands to reason that for most of the shoot, they were very much in love. That old honeymoon period. Playing grab-ass and having to be pulled kicking and screaming – and naked – from their trailers. Sure, Sly was and is a measly 5’9” and Nielsen, sans heels, topped out at a commanding 6’1”, but they made it work. Kudos to Stallone for not obsessing over the ludicrous physical difference. Fine, it was more Webster and Kareem hitting the town, but it’s obvious Sly put all that macho posturing to bed. So why, then, so little heat generated onscreen? Fuck little, how about none? They may as well have been playing brother and sister. While Tracy and Hepburn popped, or Burt Reynolds and Sally Field sizzled, Sly and Brig sat there as if waiting to die. Even their kisses turned our stomachs. Predictably, the pair divorced a mere 19 months later. No one’s talking, but I blame the first red carpet screening. There’s the proof, up there. The mismatch for all to see.
1. A Cop, By Any Other Name
Marion Cobretti. Sure, as improbable as Clubber Lang or Mason Dixon, but there it is. A name of the ages, in violent opposition to its holder. But then we remember: John Wayne was born Marion Morrison. In Iowa, no less. You calling him a pussy? A fraud and a racist, sure, but he was more man on the shitter than most of us at full speed. Still, had his character been named Iron Jaw McGee or Studs Lonigan, we’d have been spared the endless jokes. And who wants that? We get it. Cobra is tough as nails, chews on a match, and kills without hesitation. And he’s all but named Susie. Brilliance, 80’s Action style. Still, with half the script devoted to this discrepancy, we learn one last bit of information. He wishes he had a different name. Not shame, per se, just something better to get the street cred any cop needs. Something tougher, oozing defiance and manly virtue. Biff? Jack? Knuckles? No, sir. Alice.
Read Matt’s 80’s Action Review of Cobra Here
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.