Three '80s icons converge at the point that is Cobra to reveal its pop cultural significance. One is star and screenwriter Sylvester Stallone, the poor man's Clint Eastwood doing a warmed-over "Dirty Harry" act. Another is David Rasche, who has a one-sequence role as a sleazy photographer and would take to the airwaves a few months later as the star of single-camera sitcom Sledge Hammer!—Alan Spencer's wicked parody of pictures like Dirty Harry and Cobra. The third is none other than President Ronald Reagan, whose cameo takes the form of a conspicuously looming portrait in the office of grenades-first, ask-questions-later LAPD cop Lt. Marion "Cobra" Cobretti.
But how could I forget the opening credit, one that strikes fear in the hearts of cable viewers everywhere: "A Cannon Group, Inc./Golan-Globus Production." As Golan-Globus pictures go, Cobra actually looks as if a few bucks were spent on it, though that's not saying much (Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus were notoriously cheap). Aggressively dark and seedy, Cobra wears its dirt as a badge of pride as Stallone and director George P. Cosmatos go about the business of a lurching plot (adapted by Stallone from Paula Gosling's novel Fair Game), macho banter, and absurd romance. Stallone's perpetually-in-trouble, perpetually-in-demand Cobretti is "the pride of the zombie squad...the bottom line" able to take on the worst of L.A.'s scum. Of late, that would be the Night Slasher (Brian Thompson), the serial-killing leader of a supremacist cult calling themselves the New Order (no, they don't do synth pop—they meet nightly to clink axes together: don't ask).
Cobra's idea of wit is to rip off Dirty Harry even as it recasts that film's serial killer (Andrew Robinson) as this film's Detective Monte. As if they came straight out of the can, Reni Santoni (Seinfeld's Poppie) plays Cobra's loyal, sorta funny partner and Stallone's then-wife Brigitte Nielsen plays Cobra's beautiful witness to protect. Meanwhile, Stallone gives what can only be called an anti-performance, as he wanders the set with delusional self-confidence and coasts on presumed star power (witness the scene in which he picks up an oversized fake burger and attempts to do prop comedy—actually, better not). Dated and unintentionally laughable, Cobra will always be best known for the catchphrase "You're a disease and I'm the cure." Ironically, any audience foolhardy enough to brave this ugly movie is liable to stagger out feeling mighty sick.
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