Somewhere between Dirty Harry and Lethal Weapon is a man called Marion Cobretti, aka Cobra. Released in 1986, at the height of Hollywood hard bodies action cinema, Cobra re-teams writer-star Sylvester Stallone with Rambo: First Blood Part Two director George P. Cosmatos. Like that film, Cobra features much violence, one man who knows better than all his superiors, and a menacing band of adversaries. Unlike that film, Cobra offers little variation, socio-political commentary or engaging ideas – and Rambo is a pretty low bar to start with.
What could make Cobra interesting is the type of adversaries Corbretti faces. Rather than a lone psychopath like Scorpio in Dirty Harry (played by Andrew Robinson, who plays a senior cop here), or a gang of drug smugglers in Lethal Weapon, the villains here are a cult. Cults are more common in horror cinema, whether it be The Wicker Man to Martha Marcy May Marlene to the more recent Apostle and Mandy. The presence of a cult in this LA-set action cop film provides opportunities for charismatic leaders, spooky rituals and inventive set pieces, and it does resonate with the Satanic Panic of the 1980s. However, the cult never receives much in the way of motivation other than demanding a New World Order, because the strong need to filter out the weak. Tattoos on wrists and some ritual banging of axes in rooms characterised by dust motes in shafts of light is the extent of the occultism here, which is a shame because developing this angle could have given the film some depth. Instead, we are treated to Stallone drawling his way through terse meetings with his superiors, wearing sunglasses even when the light is dim, until he takes them off dramatically (was this a precursor to Judge Dredd?), and whipping out his gun (which, surprise surprise, has a cobra emblazoned on the handle) to take out assailants who naturally cannot shoot straight.
Not that all of this nonsense needs to be a problem. The hard body, one-man army action film can be fun, as evidenced by Rambo as well as the films of Stallone’s rival at the time, Arnold Schwarzenegger. But action films like these work best when they have a sense of their own ridiculousness, such as Commando in which a character comments ‘I can’t believe this macho bullshit!’ and The Running Man’s (prescient) satire of reality television. Tango & Cash as well as the subsequent Demolition Man demonstrate that Stallone is not above laughing at himself, but the extent of ‘Cobra’s self-awareness is when Cobretti admonishes his partner Gonzales (Reno Santoni) by saying ‘You’re too violent’. Pause for laughter at this ironic self-deprecation, or wait for the next clunky line or obvious cut.
Obvious cuts and pedestrian direction are also the order of the day, as combat sequences and car chases are handled in a stilted fashion that fail to place the viewer within the scene and therefore create little sense of jeopardy. Early on, there is a hostage sequence in a supermarket that is so telegraphed you can practically hear the dots and dashes, and with product placement so blatant you wonder if it is again being ironic. It is one thing for this type of cop to be a loose cannon, but pausing to open a carefully angled beer before checking on the hostage taker? Do me a favour.
Another source of trivia is that the female lead here is Brigitte Nielsen as Ingrid, wife of Stallone at the time. Ingrid starts out as a witness to a murder, making her important to the police, but they are of course incompetent at protecting her, aside from Cobretti. Any chemistry between the couple of the time is neutered by the leaden script and sterile direction, although it must be said that director of photography Ric Waite can light a moody scene while the production design of a motel where our heroes hide out showcases the skills of Bill Kenney.
Possibly the brightest spot in this general dirge is Brian Thompson, who plays the role of the Night Slasher. Yes, that is all the name he gets. Presumably inspired by the actual serial killer Richard Ramirez, who terrorised LA between 1984 and 1985, Thompson is the ostensible leader of the New World Order cult. His Schwarzenegger-like face and hulking physique make him an intimidating screen presence, and in a face-off between him and Stallone, Thompson emits genuine menace and palatable hatred. It is one of the film’s many shortcomings that Thompson does not get more to do, as focusing on one psychotic figure such as that seen in Maniac or Summer of Sam might have given the film a more compelling antagonist. As it is, Cobra is tedious and confused, a film that fails to commit to any of its clichés and ends up satisfying none of them.
a film that fails to commit to any of its clichés and ends up satisfying none of them.
Perhaps in keeping with the film’s cult status, Arrow have produced a comprehensive 4K release. Along with a brand new 4K restoration of the film, the release includes a TV version of the film with deleted and alternate scenes. There are three audio commentaries, the first by film critics Kim Newman and Nick de Semlyen. They discuss the production history of the film, such as the shift away from shooting in Seattle due to Stallone’s aversion to mosquitos. They also raise intriguing points about the importance of different sized bodies between heroes and how far to take a conspiracy narrative. Their lively banter shows affection if not admiration for the film. Another commentary features film scholars Josh Nelson and Martyn Pedler, who describe the film as 87 minutes of glory. They contextualise the film within 80s action cinema as well as the prominence of films like ‘Cobra’ in video store culture. Their self-deprecating humour balances their critical reading of the film that references theory as well as other readings and analyses, such as Stallone’s assurance that there would be no toys related to ‘Cobra’ after the controversy surrounding ‘Rambo’ toys. A third commentary by director Cosmatos is included from a 2001 release, where he describes aspects of the film that did not satisfy him, his fondness for filming footsteps, the prominence of neon lighting and preference for quick fight scenes. His discussion of the action set pieces highlights the methods for capturing car chases with motorcycles and the editing together of footage shot in different locations.
As is often the case with Arrow, there are multiple interviews. These include ‘Slashing the Night Away’, a new interview with composer Sylvester Levay. Levay details being a musician all his life and the impact of such films as The Glenn Miller Story and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, as well as the influence of classical and jazz music as well as rock guitar. The interview is more of a monologue presented over footage from the film, but without the music, there is little connection between Leavy’s words and the images. However, the composer’s story does provide an interesting account of how a musical career develops through different genres and types.
Further retrospectives are provided in archive interviews, one with actor Marco Rodriguez entitled meet ‘Meet the Disease’, in which Rodriguez explains his being nicknamed ‘the Disease’ on set. ‘Feel the Heat’ features actor Andrew Robinson while ‘Double Crossed’ and ‘A Work of Art’ with actors Lee Garlington and Art LaFleur, respectively, all with their own perspectives and anecdotes. LaFleur especially has nice things to say about Stallone, while a more critical perspective comes from actor Brian Thompson in ‘Stalking and Slashing’. Thompson recalls his experience on The Terminator as being ‘perfect’, and the importance of having a big hit like that on his resume. Thompson’s insights into auditioning and what he learned in acting school are revealing and quite touching, while his recall of the lines from Cobra after decades is impressive. His account of the moment when he learned that he got the job on Cobra is nothing short of endearing, while his anecdotes from the set range from the hilarious to the incredulous.
There are also two visual essays, both recorded for this release. The first, ‘Dark Glasses, Violence & Robots’, by film critic Abbey Bender, discusses Cobra and 80s maximalist cinema. Bender describes Cobra as an intersection of gritty 1970s and slick 1980s, with Cobretti constituting a Reagan-era dream. She highlights Stallone’s cinematic preoccupations and makes a strong case for the photo shoot sequence being the ‘greatest scene’ of the film. Bender notes the influence of MTV and Miami Vice on the film and highlights Stallone’s regrets over the film. She also makes the interesting comment that concerns over the film’s violence were odd since the violence is so stylised that it would be hard to reproduce. Her mention of Stallone’s suggestive tucking of his gun into his trousers indicates the latent homoeroticism of 80s action, and she makes a compelling argument for the film’s sincere cheesiness.
Bender also mentions the superhero archetype in relation to Cobra, as does film critic Martyn Conterio in the visual essay ‘White Line Nightmare’, who analyses Cobra and the “Maverick Cop” genre. Conterio argues that the whole film is viewed from a distance, pop art cinema viewed through postmodernist stylisation and revelling in cartoon chaos. He describes this version of Los Angeles as a mythic vision and a hell-scape of lawlessness, in which Stallone’s maverick man is a call-back to western heroes while also being a proto-hipster of metrosexual identity who can look both tough and good. There are many references to Rocky and Rambo, although, despite the references to superheroes and comic books, and Cobretti being judge, jury and executioner, there is no reference to Judge Dredd. Like Bender, Conterio identifies influences such as Miami Vice and Dirty Harry, as well as slashers and Mad Max. While both essays are insightful, there is little visual invention in the interweaving of voiceover and film footage. Closer visual analysis of key moments might have been interesting.
The extras are rounded out with a teaser and theatrical trailer along with TV spots and an image gallery, as well as a 1986 promotional featurette ‘The Making of Cobra’, which is snappily edited footage largely captured on set, but is light on insights. The release is packaged with a reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Tommy Pocket, an illustrated collector’s booklet containing new writing on Cobra by film critics Clem Bastow, William Bibbiani, Priscilla Page, and Ariel Schudson and a double-sided fold-out poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Tommy Pocket. All in all, it’s a more impressive package than the film it relates to, which remains an interesting curio of its time rather than a cinematic classic.
COBRA IS OUT NOW ON ARROW VIDEO 4K BLU-RAY
