Hi! I’m Anthony Breznican, a journalist and novelist who’s been covering film, television and books for over two decades at Vanity Fair, Entertainment Weekly, ᴀssociated Press, USA Today and more. My specialist expertise lies in blockbuster franchises, and so it’s my pleasure today to present the Greatest Action Movie Of All Time.
“Let it go … Let it go…” Is this:
- a.) an iconic lyric from the Disney princess musical Frozen
- b.) an actual quote Sylvester Stallone’s Rambo snarls while holding his knife to the throat of a sadistic sheriff in First Blood
- c.) me urging you not to even try to challenge the claim that this is the greatest action movie of all time
- d.) all of the above? Head down to the comments to sort it out, tough guy.
It’s hard to separate Rambo’s first screen appearance from all of the character’s later movies. It hardly seems like the same person, and the muscle-bound, one-man war machine of those sequels bears virtually no resemblance to the meek, reluctant hero of 1982’s First Blood. Those other movies are among the worst action movies ever made, if only because they became so progressively cartoonish. But the first one, based on the melancholy 1972 novel by David Morrell, is among the best action films. I’m arguing the very best.
That’s because the Rambo of that story, and the way Sylvester Stallone played him—before the sequels turned him into Randy “Macho Man” Savage crossed with an M1 Abrams tank—was fraught with humanity, frailty, and believability.
First Blood Is A Classic David vs. Goliath Conflict
The story involves a wandering Vietnam War veteran, struggling to adjust to life back home after seeing the most bloody, corrosive conflict imaginable. While pᴀssing through a small town in the Pacific Northwest, Rambo is hᴀssled by a local sheriff (Brian Dennehy) and his deputies, who see him as nothing but a vagrant.
They push him around, and Rambo quietly absorbs it, but he doesn’t leave. So, they arrest him, and after abusing him with a firehose shower, and an unsettling shave with a straight razor, Rambo snaps—plagued by flashbacks to when he was a POW tortured by the Viet Cong. He lashes out reflexively, and then it’s over for him. He’s no longer up on charges of loitering; he has hurt an officer of the law. So he runs, steals a motorbike, and heads into the woods, without even the shirt on his back.
The sheriff and his deputies pursue, but they aren’t equipped for survival the way Rambo is. The conflict continues to escalate until one of them dies in an accident, the victim of his own aggression, and Rambo must stave off their attack with home-made woodland traps and purloined weapons. The authorities won’t back down, and the manhunt soon involves the National Guard. Rambo’s own country has turned against him. He’s used to that, too.
What makes this the greatest action movie? He was a hero stripped of everything, even his clothes, but especially his dignity. (He does have a knife with a compᴀss in the stock.) Otherwise, caveman rules apply.
Despite having little but his own will, wiles, and strength, the Rambo of First Blood was able to not only survive impossible conditions, but strike back against foes who were armed with everything except a conscience.
It’s a classic David vs. Goliath story, and although Rambo later became a right-wing fairy tale and a symbol of herculean might, the original story was about how our country too often disregards our fighting men and women when they are no longer of use to us. It is, ultimately, a patriotic movie, but not in the nationalistic sense. It begs for respect for the people whose blood and sacrifice secure our freedom and comfort. It asks us to use them honorably, and heal the wounds—seen and unseen—that they endure. The villains are the authority figures who’d rather sweep him out of sight. The hero is an everyman.
First Blood is thrilling, but it’s also about something. It has a beating but broken heart, and yet it remains rousing, inspiring, and downright beautiful between the shootouts, explosions, and fist-fights. Beyond that, its profound influence on subsequent action movies is nearly immeasurable.
Vulnerability Actually Gives First Blood Its Impressive Strength
When trying to pick my champion for this ScreenRant debate series, I thought about Terminator 2: Judgment Day as another possible contender. It’s no doubt, one of the all-time greats, and I remember reading a review that compared the endless brawling between Arnold Schwarzenegger’s monster-turned-hero T-800 and Robert Patrick’s shapeshifting silver T-1000 to Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner. It’s actually more like Itchy & Scratchy, but the point was the same: these two could pulverize each other non-stop and keep going like the squash and stretch invincibility of cartoons.
That shares some powerhouse DNA with the later Rambo sequels, when Stallone also became like a flesh-and-blood Terminator, but the lack of vulnerability also diminishes the stakes compared to First Blood. Stallone was a fit motherҒUCҜer in that film, but he had more of a lean swimmer’s physique than a brawny bodybuilder. Dennehy’s Sheriff Teasle was heavyset and middle-aged, huffing and puffing through the woods like he might be felled by a heart attack before Rambo could get him. Both of these men were eminently kill-able. That elevates the tension above any action movie where the hero and antagonist are indestructible brawl-busters, fun as that obviously may be.
In First Blood, restraint makes the story even more gripping. Rambo doesn’t kill … anybody. In his “Let it go” speech to Dennehy, he even notes how easily he could have slain him and his deputies, but he chose to spare them. Rambo doesn’t want this fight; he wants peace. It’s the aggressors who are wrong. Rambo certainly defends himself, but if they had just left him alone, none of this bloodshed would have happened. The тιтle itself refers to this: “All I wanted was something to eat,” Rambo tells his former commander, Richard Crenna’s Col. Trautman. “They drew first blood, not me.”
First Blood puts you fully on Rambo’s side. He’s easy to cheer for, and to root for. You want him to be treated fairly and honorably. In the climax of the movie—astoundingly—he doesn’t destroy his enemies and escape. He breaks down. In a rambling monologue, and a stunning performance from Stallone (who, let’s face it, isn’t known for being Olivier), Rambo unspools before our eyes. It’s hard to understand what he’s saying, but these are all the cruelties, humiliations, and pains he has been holding inside, ever since he was sent overseas to fight and possibly die in a war that no one back home believed in. His life had no meaning then, and it still doesn’t. Not to the people of his own country.
Those who know Rambo only by reputation as a relentless super-soldier might be shocked to realize that the tough-guy icon ends First Blood in tears. Again, this Rambo is a real man, a real human. It makes this action story even more powerful, to conclude in a moment of quiet.
First Blood Dominates Because It Influenced So Many More Films
The action genre is among the most popular in moviemaking, so there are countless other options when trying to choose the best of all time. Before First Blood, there were many gangster pictures, Westerns, and shoot-’em-ups. After this, there was still more of the same. But action movies changed as a result of this movie.
Consider 1988’s Die Hard, probably my favorite action flick. Bruce Willis’ John McClane notoriously spawned endless imitators (Die Hard in an airplane, Die Hard in a submarine … Legend has it that Willis was once pitched Die Hard in a skyscraper and had to tell the producer: “I think they already did that.”) But what is the Die Hard story arc, fundamentally? It’s a lone hero, trapped, alone, and struggling with no resources to overcome impossible enemies. Let’s face it: Great as it is, Die Hard is actually “First Blood in a skyscraper.”
Schwarzenegger’s Predator from 1987 is basically First Blood with a killer alien. Schwarzenegger starts out with his own share of weaponry, not to mention a full platoon of muscle-bound hardᴀsses, including Carl Weathers, Bill Duke, Sonny Landham, and Jesse “I Ain’t Got Time To Bleed” Ventura. But he loses everything, including his men, as he faces down the crab-faced hunter, who is also armed to the fangs with lasers, missiles, and invisibility. Like Rambo in First Blood, Schwarzenegger must rely on his instincts and ability to blend in with nature (like so many prey in the natural world) to overcome this all-powerful enemy.
When I first discovered First Blood, I was around 7 years old, and I was introduced to Rambo by my best friend, Joey Mitchell, who would put on camouflage facepaint with me and run through the woods surrounding our neighborhood, swinging from vines, rolling down hills, and imagining ourselves as Rambo-esque survivors. Kids are drawn to power because they have none whatsoever.
Kids also know unfairness when they see it, and are drawn to underdogs. First Blood suggested that, against all odds, you can stand up for yourself and what’s right if you are smart, capable, and contain an inner strength. That’s what we were playing at as we tumbled around the brush. There is a hilarious 2007 coming-of-age film called Son of Rambow that is about this very thing.
Need another example? Consider this: Little Kevin McCallister, alone in his empty house, setting up swinging paint cans, H๏τ doorknobs, and slippery stairways in 1990’s Home Alone… That’s First Blood with a kid.
This movie’s humanity, its heart, its intensity, and above all, its many imitators are what make First Blood arguably the greatest action movie of all time. Its influence is so vast this column could continue endlessly, but here’s where you try to tell me I’m wrong.
