I FUCKING LOVE COLOURING
The strong arm of the law.
A tough-on-crime street cop must protect the only surviving witness to a strange murderous cult with far reaching plans.
This is why you should give this film a pass:
- cutting pizza with scissors
- 'This is where the law ends and I start...........sucker!'
- Matchstick toothpick.
- Dennis Leary once said he wanted a cheese helmet so he could put it on and eat cheese the entire day. This is that.
- There is no plot. This is a good thing.
- Lots of A-team violence.
Brigitte Nielsen is awful. It's like watching an East European shot put athlete trying to act.
Without any irony or that "aware of how silly it is" quality people for some goddamn reason champion in action movies these days, this Sylvester Stallone penned thriller hurls a big sleazeball of post-Dirty Harry fascism at your eyeballs faster than you can say MTV. I would argue that Cannon Films generally, and this film in particular, represent the nexus of low brow exploitation and slick Hollywood spectacle (and perhaps its apex too). This is a nasty and mean piece of work, that, though never overtly graphic, feels as grimy and ludicrous as some of the stuff that played on 42nd Street in the decade prior. It's all coated in a sheen of style from director George P. Cosmatos and…
"Go ahead, I don’t shop here."
The overcompensation of violence when rule of law comes up short.
Sylvester Stallone plays Marion 'Cobra' Cobretti. His gun has a cobra on the handle and he drives a black 1950 Mercury Monterey with the license plate "AWSOM 50". He wears reflective aviators and chews on a matchstick. He gives his coworkers nutritional advice ("Try some fish!") and tells them not to swear in public. He shoves a journalist's face at a corpse when they ask if he used excessive force ("Tell that to their family!"). But more important than anything else, he eats cold pizza with scissors.
Cobra feels like the result of a semi-dystopian 80's crime thriller being made by a recent…
"This is where the law stops and I start - sucker!"
I want to give this 5 stars, but I feel that might be too dishonest (or perhaps it's a new level of honesty I'm not ready to admit yet). Takes the DIRTY HARRY ethos to its logical confusion, as senseless violence begats senseless police work amidst a war-torn wasteland rife with product placement. Although pretty ahead of its time for having a climactic factory shootout years before either ROBOCOP or TERMINATOR 2. The movie tips its allegiances, however, by showing a Pepsi sign obliterated by a shotgun blast while a hero cop enjoys a refreshing Coca-Cola Classic™.
Bonus: This is a Christmas movie!
This was actually better than i thought it would be, some of the more intense scenes are even better made than some of the stuff you see today. This was also the movie where Sylvester Stallone stopped trying to speak like a Sober person and accepted that he sounds like a shitfaced carpenter. Overall i enjoyed this movie and it gets a 3/5
Eh, I wanna call this movie Cobra. It sounds cool.
Ok, Sly. Sure thing. But why is it called Cobra?
I dunno. Who cares? I just wanna call it Cobra.
Well, then can we change his name to Cobretti, so it at least makes a modicum of sense?
Listen, I don't care if we call him Marion so long as the movie is called Cobra.
Gorgeous Cannon 80's action madness.
I'm only three decades behind schedule in catching up with this notorious 80s artifact, an urtext for any number of Pepsi generation conventions, from the warm glow of neon signs giving a cozy Christmas cheer to back alley ass-kickings to the hyper-authoritarian Reagan-era disdain for due process or moral ambiguity. Adapted from the same novel that latter inspired the awful Cindy Crawford vehicle Fair Game (1995), this is a much better made movie than that abomination, thanks largely to Cosmatos, Stallone, and cinematographer Ric Waite treating the underbaked scenario largely as an excuse to execute a series of near abstract visual coups, using fish-eyes lenses and red filters to turn the world into a high-gloss fantasia of pilfered advertising images…
1) I never noticed this is set during Christmas before
2) I love how Cobra keeps a match in his mouth during the whole movie just so he can light the one guy on fire at the end of the movie
Ich hatte mich auf einen einfachen, geradlinigen und unterhaltsamen Krawumm-Film aus den 80zigern gefreut, so im Stil von DAS PHANTOMKOMMANDO. Leider ist DIE CITY COBRA ein schlechter und, was noch unverzeihlicher ist, ein langweiliger Film. Da hilft auch kein Sylvester und keine Brigitte. Die Bösewichter sind unglaublich schlecht und sehen aus, als kämen sie aus einem Duran Duran Video.
Sags when harshness is required
Cobra still holds up as one of the dumbest, most cliché action films of the 80s. It has so many of the hallmarks of cheesy straight to video action films of the era, but with an increased budget, and an A-list star in the lead role.
The character of Lt. Cobretti is definitely one of Stallone's most underrated performances, and he definitely relishes in the excess of the 'badass maverick cop' stereotype with gusto (Cobretti is so cool he wears sunglasses inside, cuts pizza with scissors and eats it with his gloves on). The axe wielding villains are hilarious, Brigette Nielsen is ludicrously wooden and the soundtrack is pitch perfect for it's time (the recurring song about 'working too hard, tryin to make a livin' is hilarious).
Overall, this is a short, very trashy action film that is horrible on many levels, but is great for precisely that. Brilliant.
"THIS IS WHERE THE LAW STOPS AND I START -- SUCKER!" - Marion Cobretti
Cobra is an absolutely perfect filth encrusted feel bad musclebound '80s actioner. Between Stallone's marble mouthed quips, the rager of a shot gun blast supermarket opening, and an MTV edited montage featuring Nagel feather-haired models grinding against robot mannequins (!!!), I couldn't stop smiling. I also LOVED the insane car chase featuring Stallone's nitrous fueled speed demon and the climactic chain fight in an iron smelting plant with a sweaty neo-neanderthal leather jacket main creep. Trash art of the highest calibre. Way to hook me early and keep my butt planted firmly-in-sofa until the end credits rolled, George P. Cosmatos!
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