Some months ago, when it came out on DVD, we rented and watched Rocky Balboa. Whilst it’ll never be regarded as great cinema, it was at least a fitting end to the franchise, emphasising the ‘little tailor’ aspect of Balboa’s character and making allowances for time, age, and a certain amount of nostalgia, not only in Stallone’s portrayal of Rocky, but in the central message that, whilst age may weary a man, it can give him the wisdom to accept that the battles most worth winning are those closest to the heart. Amidst the formula there was warmth, and dignity, and even a little grace. Not great cinema, no, but as the credits rolled, there was no small satisfaction in the journey’s end.

Tonight, we watched John Rambo, the latest and last of the Rambo series of movies.

John Rambo is shit.

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