Project Stallone: "Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot"

Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot
By Peter John Gardner

Do you ever have those awkward moments with your parents where they temporarily forget that you're an adult and treat you like you're ten years old again? I'm 26 years old, have been living on my own since 18, and my mom still regularly asks me if I've been brushing my teeth and eating right. When I lived in Vero Beach, my mom would always start cleaning whenever she came by for a visit. That got annoying because she would organize my belongings and throw out what she thought was loose paper and junk mail on the kitchen table. The papers on the kitchen table was usually my schoolwork.

Picture a whole, 90 minute movie based around these awkward and annoying moments, and you have the punctuationally challenged "Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot". This movie thinks those moments are funny, and perhaps with the right writer they are. Thing is, the movie just makes the viewer feel uncomfortable and awkward as you watch scenes of Stallone and none other than Sofia from "The Golden Girls" as mother and son.

You can pretty much guess the plot from the title of the film and the cover of the dvd. Stallone's a cop, his mom comes to town, ends up getting involved with his police work, hilarity ensues.

There is a scene where Stallone is trying to talk a man out of jumping off a building. Defying any sort of logic, the police let Stallone's mother, a character that hasn't even been introduced to his coworkers yet, take control of the megaphone while Sly is up on the ledge trying to talk to the guy. Mama Stallone starts telling the suicidal guy how awesome her son is and informs the ladies present that he is single. The jumper tells Stallone, "Jeez man, you're worse off than I am" and heads inside the window. Cut to a news clips showing Stallone still on the ledge, and the reporter telling us about a man threatening suicide. Stallone should've jumped.

Lesson learned from the film? Your parents will always be your parents. No matter how old I get, I'll always be the baby boy in their eyes, and even as one grows into adulthood, they'll always look after me and take care of me. Now that I'm older, I don't really mind when my friends hear potentially embarrassing stories about my childhood, and I feel fortunate to have a mother that is not as overbearing as Sofia in this movie. If anything, my mom is turning out to be more like Betty White's character, Rose, from the Golden Girls.

No matter how old one gets, you'll always have a little bit of schmootz on your cheek that your mom will wipe off with a tissue in front of all your friends.

Project Stallone: "Oscar"

Oscar
By Peter John Gardner

Sly's first attempt at intentional comedy since Rhinestone was marketed as a movie for the whole family when it was released, so one would assume that Oscar is one of those films that's mainly meant for kids but also has a few jokes that only adults would understand. I remember seeing this when I was a kid and not understanding the plot at all nor finding it funny. Don't mistake my naivity for being pretentious at the tender age of ten. Around the same time, I thought that Axl Rose was a great singer and womens' breasts were filled with juice. Since I didn't understand the film, and it wasn't a Star Wars or Ghostbusters movie, I duly forgot about it.

After watching Oscar as an adult, I was able to understand the plot, and the reason that it flew over my head as a kid is because it centers around situations that a kid wouldn't care about it (confusion about who the baby's daddy is, being double crossed by accountants, marriage arrangements). The film's plot is of the Murphy's Law variety. Stallone is Snaps Provolone, a mobster who vowed to his dying father that he would go straight. The morning that he's supposed to make his final transistion into a banker, he finds out that his daughter is pregnant, his accountant is trying to screw him over, and his henchmen won't stop calling him 'boss', a running joke that's not funny the first time nor the seventeenth time it comes up in the movie.

Trying to incorporate this piece of shit into my own life is where I'm drawing a blank. I've never been involved in organized crime, I don't have a rebellious daughter or an accountant, and I don't know anyone named Oscar that could be the real father of my daughter's kid. Maybe that's my problem. I'm a simple guy who leads a simple life. I don't ask for much, and I have no problem at all with being left alone. I've been through enough drama in the past that I purposely remove myself from situations that could potentially cause unwanted drama.

I've become bored with my life for the past year and a half, and perhaps it needs complications to its plot, whether they be good or bad. I've become so defensive that I back away from situations that could be problematic, and I think it's time for that to stop. It's time for me to stop thinking too much about things and just go ahead and fucking do it and deal with whatever problems may arise when it's time. Now, I'm not going to run out today and impregnate some woman just to practice what I'm preaching but I think I'm smart enough and have good enough judgement to deal with life matters that I always told myself I couldn't handle. I've learned a lot since I was that naive little kid watching Oscar in 1991. At the very least, I know that womens' breasts are NOT filled with juice.

Project Stallone: "Rocky V"

Rocky V
By Peter John Gardner

Stallone's original draft for the script of what was, at the time, the final installment of the Rocky saga had our hero die at the end. Now artistically speaking, this wouldn't be a bad idea as it would give closure to a series that was running way past its welcome in the public eye. Stallone had the cajones to kill off the character that brought him success in Hollywood, and I sort of applaud him for that. Studios interfered by saying that it would be like killing Superman, so the ending was rewritten with Balboa victorious in the final fight. I can see it both ways, but I'm glad that Balboa stayed alive in the final fight so that this godawful movie wouldn't mark the end of what was originally an earnest and heroic character.

Not breaking formula, this one picks up right where the last film left off. After the fight with Ivan Drago at the end of Rocky IV, Balboa has suffered irreversible brain damage. If he continues fighting, he'll become even more fucked in the head. So Rocky is supposed to be a little loopy during this film, but the problem with this is that the character already comes across as retarded, so the only way the script can show that Rock-o has brain damage is by throwing in extra "yo". Rocky said "yo" in the previous films, but nowhere near the ridiculousness in this one. Rocky pretty much says "yo" for everything.

"Welcome home, Rocky!"
"Yo!"

"I love you"
"Yo."

"You've suffered severe trauma to the head"
"Yo" :-(

An obnoxious boxing promoter named Duke is Rocky's main antagonist throughout the film. He's played as a really silly version of Don King, and it's hard to keep a straight face whenever this guy comes onscreen. He wants Rocky back in the ring just for the revenue that it would bring. Adrian flat out refuses, but Rocky can't keep boxing out of his mind.

"You're a damn fool"
"Yo."

Rocky meets a young, up and commer by the name of Tommy Gun, whom he sees a little bit of himself in, so Rocky ends up training and managing the fighter. Eventually, Tommy gets frustrated with Rocky's slow burn way of managing and feels that he's ready for a shot at the title. All the meantime, Rocky's son (who has aged about five years since the last movie even though this is supposed to take place RIGHT AFTER Rocky IV) is feeling neglected by his father as Rocky turns his attention towards Tommy instead of him. See where this is going yet? Tommy and Duke end up in cahoots while Rocky makes amends with his son.

I can understand Rocky's approach to managing. It takes time to become better at what you think you're good at. Rocky's not in it for the money, and he tries to convince Tommy that fortune and glory shouldn't be his goals as a boxer. It's about, here comes the cliche, the love of the sport. Rocky was a great fighter not only because of his strength and skills but also his heart.

The lesson presented in this mess of a movie is actually pretty poignant. When choosing a path in life, go for the one that will bring you the most happiness. Throughout college, I flipped my major around a few times. It started as English, then Business, then Education, and finally Creative Writing. English and Education kinda go hand in hand with the degree I ended up with, but Business was a left field choice that I made thinking that any degree in the arts would get me nowhere. So, I flirted with Business classes for two semesters thinking that I should be doing that instead. While I learned a lot as far as business and management are concerned, my heart wasn't in it at all.

These days, I do bitch and moan about my bachelor's degree and how useless it is. That doesn't mean that I'm not proud. Quite the opposite. I worked hard in school and had to overcome many hard times outside of school during my college years, and I still made it. I graduated college, and that's more than a lot of people out there can say. Tommy Gunn would take the easy way to the top. I'm doing it the Balboa way. I may not be the best at what I do, and it may take some time to get where I want in life, but god damn it, I'm sticking with doing what I love, and I'm sure that all the frustrations that I have now with work and getting into grad school will be compensated in the end with good karma. Hopefully.

This is unrelated to piece but still needs to be addressed. After the street fight at the end of the movie, which is actually one of the highlights of the series, Rocky and Duke have this little exchange.

Duke: C'mon pug. Touch me and I'll sue. *shit eating grin*
Rocky decks him in the chin.
Rocky: Sue me for what?

And then the movie goes to final scene with Rocky and his son. What the fuck? How about assault and battery for starters? At least that would explain why Rocky is still broke at the beginning of Rocky Balboa fifteen years later. Maybe Rocky is unsueable?

"Merry Xmas!! Look! Here comes Santa Claus!"
"Yo, yo, yo"

Project Stallone: "Tango & Cash"

Tango & Cash
By Peter John Gardner

Stallone's first foray into the buddy cop genre is a doozy. Right from the get go, there's a scene where Stallone's character, Ray Tango, receives some smack talk from a fellow cop.

"Who does this guy think he is? Rambo?"

"Rambo's a pussy!"

Ooh...burn.

Crappy one liners aside, I really do like this movie. It pairs Stallone up with another 80s action icon, Kurt Russell, a man that Quentin Tarantino has proved to the world is still a badass to this very day.

What you get with Tango and Cash is a typical 80s buddy cop in the vein of the Lethal Weapon movies. Two cops are pulled together by a common bad guy that wants them both taken out. The cops are polar opposites on the surface, but they overcome their differences and realize they have a lot in common and work well together. There's also the damsel in distress played by Teri Hatcher who also happens to be Tango's sister.

Not to mention the totally random nudity typical of 80s action movies. Russell is escaping the bad guys in parking garage. One of the cars slams into a pole causing a loud noise. Cut to a car where a couple is having sex and and a bare breasted woman looks up with complete confusion and bewilderment. Wha...?

The movie is predictable and probably wouldn't do much to impress anyone that doesn't love a cheeseball action flick. It's good, though. I think Stallone and Russell's friendship is easy to buy. They're guy's guys. It's natural. I could see them throwing down a few beers together.

This being a movie about friendship, and tomorrow being Thanksgiving, I'd like to hijack this piece into a little "thank you" and "what I've learned from you" for my two best friends. It's not that I don't love any of the rest of you enough to write a piece for you. I'm just lazy right now, and two's enough. If you really need to know why I value you as a friend, just give a little chirp.


I think that every one should have two best friends, one of each gender. It helps to balance things out in your life and to give you different prespectives and advice on situations. Kim is my girl best friend.

No, we've never dated. We've never fooled around or done the nasty, but we do get a kick out of making people think that. In actuality, Kim plays very well to the sensitive side of my personality, and she provides a calm nurturting voice towards me. Make no mistake, she's no softy. She can make a semen joke with the best of them. Thing is, Kim has a very realistic outlook on life, and I always turn to her for an honest opinion when I'm unsure of something.

"Are you fucking kidding? DON'T DO THAT! Ugh!"

"Peter....are you sure about this?"

She acts as a conscience of sorts. She's the Tango to my Cash. She keeps on tabs when I'm making foolish decisions in life. Our relationship isn't exactly the normal path towards friendship. Officially, she's my ex-girlfriend's, ex-teacher's ex-wife. Now she's the wife of one of my friends and the mother of his child. Somewhere in the middle, we struck up a friendship when we realized that we were nearly male and female versions of each other. Over course of our friendship, we shared a night shift at bank for a few monthes, and we just spent every night alternating from movie critiques and sex jokes to really deep conversations about our lives, our pasts, and our needs.

Kim is such a good friend that despite her tireless mother duties, as well as being an awesome wife, will still be a good enough friend to call you for no reason just to see how you are, or listen to rant about something at 2am that turns out to be irrelevant at 8am. She also knows how to make a single guy not feel isolated on Valentine's Day by going out of her way to make mix cds and presents. She also grabs my butt when needed. Trust me. That's important in any friendship with me. If you grab my butt, I'll love you forever.

Everyone should have a friend like Kim. She's led an extrodinary life, and she's very accepting of people despite their differences.



Abel and I have been best friends for over twelve years. We met shortly after I moved to Florida when my parents split in 1995. We sat on opposite sides of the room in Spanish class until I was moved next to him because of a flannel shirt fight I was having with this kid named Jamal. Initially, I thought Abel was a dork. He looked kinda like Angus, and he wasn't very good with Spanish (once he accidentally told the teacher that he wanted to bathe her with a rubber ducky in Spanish). It wasn't until I noticed the band names scraweled on his backpack (Nirvana, Local H, Soundgarden, Marilyn Manson, Butthole Surfers, Tad) that I started to think he was alright. We eventually bonded over huffing markers. True story. They smelled fruity.

We became inseperable for years to come. The effects of puberty wore off by the time tenth grade started, and we started to look and feel good about ourselves. More importantly, we had girlfriends. Most people around the high school didn't think of us without thinking of the other, and we were constantly referred to as Abel and Peter, instead of just Abel...or Peter ("Where're Abel and Peter? I know her. Isn't she friends with Abel and Peter?"). Our senses of humor meshed incredibly well.
Abel is an extremely outgoing guy. If you've met him, you'd feel like you've known him for years. He's incredibly charming, clever, funny, good looking, and knows how to get people to feel good about themselves. He definitely plays to the male part of my personality.

"Go talk to her."

"No way. She's no interest in me."

"Shut the fuck up. Look at you..." *goes into inspirational speech about how awesome I am ending with a joke about pussy farts*

He's also extremely loyal. I know he would unconditionally take my side no matter what. He would tell me when I fuck up, but do it in a way where he shows that he understands why I fucked up. Out of all the friends that he's lost contact with over the years, I wonder why he still keeps that pimply faced dork from 9th grade as his best friend. I love him dearly though. Although the three or four years since we left Vero have caused our own personalities, separate from one another, to emerge, we still think of each other as brothers. As blood. Abel's the brother I should've had. No matter how much shit we've gone through on both ends, we still manage to shrug it off and go right into riffing about whatever we think is funny at the time. We've had some amazing adventures that warrant their own tell-all book, and I will always cherish those years of my life. He's the Cash to my Tango, always entangling me in some wacky adventure.

Friends become a part of your personality that is hard to shake off when the friendship is a strong one. I hold all of my friends close to my heart, and I thank everyone for putting up with a shmuck like me.

Project Stallone: "Lock Up"

Lock Up
By Peter John Gardner

Prison isn't such a bad place to be. In the world of "Lock Up", if you're in the "normal" prison that Sly is being held in at the beginning of the filmyou can leave on the weekends if you want and bring back cigarettes and other treats for your fellow inmates. If you're serving hard time in a maximum security prison, you're still allowed to work on vintage cars (the movie never explains why there's a garage with vintage automobiles in a PRISON) without any kind of supervision and granted access to flammable subtances and tools that could easily be used as weapons.

Lock Up tells the story of Frank Leone, a man who is quietly serving out the remainder of his sentence when he is moved into a different prison with an ex-warden of his with an axe to grind. Leone made the ex-warden (played by Donald Sutherland) look like an ass, so now the tables have turned, and it's now time for payback.

Too bad for Sutherland; they fucked with the wrong Italian.

Watching this, you won't feel any suspense. In this film, the supposedly hardcore prison seems pretty damn tame compared to other movie prisons and looks like Disneyworld compared to real prison. There may be mandatory lockdowns, some beatings by guards here and there, and a brutal delousing, but that's about it. These guys seem to spend more time outside of their cells than inside. They work on cars at leisure and play football outside unsupervised. Some of the inmates try to rough up Stallone, but you won't care because Stallone is cut like a bodybuilder in this movie. I never thought I'd say something like this, but this movie needs a good rape scene. Otherwise, the inmates and warden don't seem like any threat at all.

There's not much to be gained from this movie. It deserves its place in Wal-Mart's five dollar bin. A better movie would've shown me the horrors of prison, and my lesson learned would've been something about how I'll never break the law again because I wouldn't want to end up in a prison like Lock Up. Instead, I vow to stay out of trouble from now on only because I don't want to be forced to work on cars or play football. I really don't like doing either one of those activities.

Project Stallone: "Rambo III"

Rambo III
By Peter John Gardner

Let me just say right off the bat that I'm going to get somewhat off track on this one because as far as Rambo III is concerned, there's nothing more I can add besides some more Cold War commentary that I've already covered in Rambo: First Blood Part II and Rocky IV (these films are classy because they use Roman numerals).

Rambo III seems to forget that it should actually be called First Blood Part III but who's keeping track? Anyway, it takes its cue more from the second film than the first, which means instead of exploring the effects of PTSD on a Vietnam Vet (which would've made a far more interesting film), we get another movie with Rambo planted in the middle of a foreign country and ordered to blow things up, which he does a lot. The plot itself finds Rambo on a mission to rescue his former commanding officer who happens to be in Afghanistan being held captive by those pesky Russians.

It's easy to see the parallels between the film's depiction of the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan during the 80s and America's occupation of Afghanistan and Iraq in the 00s. Yes, America provided Afghani rebels (see they're not terrorists unless they're against us) with aid and arms to fight the Russians. Yes, Afghanistan ended up using those very same resources on us when we went in there after 9/11 on our "BIN LADEN: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE" mission.

By the way, weren't we supposed to catch that guy? What happened with that?

I don't want to go on an anti war rant because most of us are all on the same page about Iraq now. There are those such as myself that were against it from the beginning, those that are against it now for the right reasons, and those that are against it simply because we're not "winning" (wrong reasons, but at least they're on our team now). Yeah, our administration purposely misled the public (sidenote: Kudos to Kucinich for finally having the cajones to file an impeachment against Cheney). Yeah, Iraq is starting to look like Vietnam. Yeah, we're about to do the same thing with Iran. We all know.

What I'd like to address here is the apathy that I've gained towards politics over the years. 2000 was the first election that I was eligible to vote in, and hot damn, I was excited. It was Bush vs. Gore, and I remember the general feeling that Gore was going to win. Bush was not qualified enough, he seemed kind of...dumb, and Gore was coming off as vice-president during one of the best presidencies of the twentieth century (Argue all you want about Clinton. It's true.) So, I voted for Nader that election. In hindsight, it was a very foolish choice, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I was certain that Gore would win, so I was in the camp of people that wanted Nader to get enough votes so that a third party would receive federal funding during the next election and Americans would be able to have more palpable third party choices for the presidency.

We all know how that one turned out.

2004, I was fed up with everything about the Bush administration, as was half of America (or at least ones that read the newspapers). Bush stole the first election, proved himself to be a downright inept leader, and made Reagan look like Steven Hawking. At this time, I was at UCF and election fever was unavoidable. I joined in, thinking that I could make a difference. I helped register people to vote. I handed out information regarding why Bush was a failure. In the end, it didn't matter. The morning after the election, I lost my faith not only in the American people, but also my ability to make a difference in politics as well.

No matter how much concrete facts and information people had, they still voted for Bush. "He's going to end terrorism!" Sure, he's also going to end racism too. Just watch. Not only that, but so much sketchy stuff happened in Ohio and Florida that day that I believe the election would've gone to Captain Asshole regardless of the actual results of the election.

Here we are now with the 2008 elections right around the corner. Save for Ron Paul, all of the Republican candidates, while more articulate, are just as sketchy and misguided as Bush. The Democrats seem to be more concerned with slinging mud at each other instead of dismantling any chance the Republicans would have to keep the White House. I've got my favorite, John Edwards, but as it stands now, I highly doubt that he'll get the nomination.

Even still, I'm finding it harder to care. Does my vote make a difference if the teams are going to play dirty and rig the results? Why should I bother when all the candidates are just making empty promises in order to gain public favor? Why should I care when whoever gets elected is just going to run into a bunch of roadblocks once they get elected due to all of the partisan infighting and instead of making substantial progress with things that need to be addressed (our health care and education system, social security, reducing our deficit, ending the damn war already), and instead just coming up with a series of lame compromises that would appease the two parties in Washington, but not one single American voter.

Holy shit. This was supposed to be about Rambo. Ok, I'll try and tie the two together. Right now, America is in a "Rambo III" phase, where we just blindly go into other countries, wreck things, and expect to be regarded as heroes. Instead, America should be more like "First Blood". We have the capabilities to fuck shit up, but it should only be used when pushed too far. America should be fixing problems within its own borders rather than worrying about what Iran is doing or whatnot.

Or America could be more like "The Party at Kitty and Stud's" where we all look kinda stoned and just enjoy the fruits of life. Wait, that's Amsterdam. Maybe we could just get drunk and play soccer like in "Victory". Oops, that's Ireland.

I'll stop with the stereotypes now.

It's going to be a long jump down from this soapbox.

Project Stallone: "Over the Top"

Over the Top
By Peter John Gardner

Ah, Over the Top. I hadn't seen this movie since I was a kid, and all I could remember about it was that it was about arm wrestling and that Stallone turned his hat backwards for that extra little burst of strength before a match. I thought about handing the reigns of Project Stallone over to a friend of mine for his take on the film just to see if someone else could find a fresh prespective on the same old tired themes that I've been knee deep in for the past year. The movie's about ARM WRESTLING at truck stops. There's not much I can work with there. However, when I rewatched the film myself in order to add any notes to the ghost written entry, I found that Over the Top opened up a whole new can of worms that I could explore...my daddy issues.

Plot in a nutshell: Stallone plays a truck driver named Lincoln Hawk who just so happens to be an awesome arm wrestler. He has a son that he hasn't seen in ten years that has been in his mother's care, but when the mom begins to fall ill, she sends Hawk to pick up their son from military school to be by her side. The kid still hates his dad for leaving until he sees how great of an arm wrestler he is. Yes, father and son bond over ARM WRESTLING in this movie. Anyway, bad guys from Hawk's past get involved, the kid gets kidnapped, Stallone has to win an ARM WRESTLING tournament to win back his son and his love, and everything becomes hunky dory.

My father left me when I was fourteen years old. Growing up, he was both physically and mentally abusive towards my brother and I. The good times with him were few and far between, and my childhood was mostly living in fear of getting the living shit beat out of me for the slightest mistake (Ex: in my house, accidentally breaking the towel rack would earn you a beatdown with said towel rack). When my father left and my parents divorced, I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. I was afraid of him, and now that he was out of the picture, I didn't want him in my life, not until he showed some kind of remorse for the way he treated my brother and I or at least exhibit some kind of personal growth or change.

That never happened. Since I was still a minor, the court ordered me into therapy as collateral for not wanting to see my dad. My dad and I communicated through a third party, and I could see that he was as stubborn as ever. He wanted me in his life, but he wouldn't admit or even acknowledge any wrongdoing. He kept sending me cards for Xmas and my birthday, but I didn't respond. At that age, I didn't know how to in an appropriate way.

It's been twelve years since I've spoken to him, and the cards stopped coming several years ago. Over the Top, god damn it, made me rethink where I stand with my father right now. I wondered what would happen if I were stuck in a semi truck driving cross country with my dad. Granted, he was never the tough guy, truck driver type, but it's been twelve years. He could be a badass arm wrestler now for all I know.

Stallone's character is a flawed individual. Aside from abondoning his son at an early age, he was also a drug pusher back in the day. Still, he is able to re-establish a bond with his son through the power of ARM WRESTLING. Not a perfect father-son bond, but a bond nonetheless.

I'm an adult now. I know my dad is a flawed individual, as am I. Perhaps it's time to tie up a loose end from my childhood. The only wrinkle in that plan is that I have absolutely no idea how to get in contact with him, being as how he's a very private person that never has his name listed in the phonebook. Not only that, but there are about 267,797,257,089,234,230,911 John Gardners in the world. It's hard to find the right one. I don't know if bringing him back into my life would be a positive or negative thing, and it's that fear that he's still thickheaded that holds me back from reaching out. Why bother if he's still going to treat me like shit?

You never know. At the very least, I could just arm wrestle the fucker if nothing else.