When we last saw former army of one John Rambo, he was in Afghanistan helping the freedom fighters mop up the Soviets so that the Taliban could move in and muck things up. In retrospect, ol’ Rambo probably realized that it wasn’t such a good mission. Here we join him laying low in Thailand, 20 years older and just chillin’. That is, until a bunch of Christian missionaries have to go in and honk off the Burmese. These folks aren’t known for playing nice, and they’re probably already irked that we still insist on calling their country Burma all these years after they had a revolution to rename their patch of land Myanmar. Like most other cranky backwater countries, they’re probably also of the headspace that the Christians should just stay home and keep busy holding bake sales. Be that as it may, they get taken hostage and our grumpy grandpa has to go in and save their sorry asses. He keeps his shirt on, but he pulls off the highest body count of any of his adventures. If you want blood, you got it here in buckets. If you want narrative cohesiveness, well … there are those buckets of blood. And lots of stuff blowing up real good.