Rocky IV

"I must break you."

And so the Rocky franchise becomes a joke. Rocky IV (1985) is a time-capsule of '80s Cold War kitsch, where a forceful left hook can shatter the Iron Curtain. Red Dawn seems like a tasteful documentary compared to this.
Rocky's (Sylvester Stallone) supremacy's challenged by Soviet boxer Ivan Drago (Dolph Lundgren). Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers) comes out of retirement to box the hulking Russian, who kills him in the ring. Hoping to avenge his colleague, Rocky travels to Russia with Adrian (Talia Shire), Paulie (Burt Young) and Apollo's trainer Duke (Tony Burton). Before the Politburo and the world press, Rocky and Drago decide to settle the Cold War mano a mano. Think Chess with more punching and less Murray Head.
From the Miracle on Ice to East German blood doping and the boycotts of the '80 and '84 Summer Olympics, international sports were as much a Cold War battlefield as Angola and Vietnam, if not as bloody. Conversely, optimists could point to the American Ping-Pong team's role in opening relations with China. However absurd Rocky IV's premise seems today, it's very much of its time. Less defensible is the movie's failure on every cinematic level.
Rocky IV seems like a calculated insult to fans, from Paulie's robot servant to the slow-motion "No!" greeting Apollo's death, to the endless musical videos. Rocky trains in the Russian taiga, pulling sleds through the snow and climbing mountains. Dumber still is his flashback-infused drive after Apollo's death, which plays like a cut scene from Footloose. Which can't top the bad taste centerpiece, where Apollo welcomes Drago with James Brown and army of chorus girls performing "Living in America." Ah, the '80s!
Few films beat Rocky IV's Reagan-era Red baiting. Dolph Lundgren is well-cast as Drago, a hulking menace of few words, less empathy ("If he dies, he dies!") and exotic steroids. He's so huge we wonder how Rocky can survive one punch, let alone fifteen rounds. Backed by Michael Pataki and then-Mrs. Stallone Brigitte Nielsen's Boris and Natasha act, they're cads out of a '50s Red Scare flick. Trying to best the Godfather of Soul, the Politburo unveils a Stalin-esque poster of Drago before the climactic bout. Subtle they aren't.
Giving Stallone some credit, it's possible he's intentionally comparing American patriotism and Soviet communism as two sides of the same coin. Certainly Rocky's ungraceful détente speech ("If I can change and you can change...") suggests as much. If so, Stallone fails miserably considering how rigged the film's drama is. The Russians are either ranting ideologues or monosyllabic monsters; the Americans are Rocky Balboa and Apollo Creed. Vladimir Putin would choose Rocky over Drago.
Or maybe not, since Rocky and his costars are on autopilot, or worse. Stallone seems engaged only in the role's physical aspect, contenting himself with fortune cookie aphorisms for dramatic scenes. Poor Talia Shire's again reduced to nagging and reneging. Burt Young goggles at his robot and flops around the snow. Carl Weathers is worst-served: Apollo was smart enough to duck Clubber Lang in Rocky III, so why's he fighting Drago? Tony Burton fares best; virtually a bit player until now, he delivers with an expanded role.
Rocky IV certainly isn't as offensive as Stallone's Rambo movies, where he singlehandedly refights the Vietnam War; it's just dumb and tasteless. Still, it grossed a whopping $300,000,000 upon release. Perhaps Stallone took criticisms of its excess to heart, as he tried returning the series to its modest roots - with catastrophic results.