It's Friday folks, and I haven't looked so forward to one of these since Costner week. Let it never be said that I don't suffer for my beloved Bad Movie Knights, as will certainly be evidenced by the movie with which I've chosen to end Stallone week. Five days of watching Stallone is a dangerous thing to attempt, but reviewing them as well is insanity! It reminds me of an exercise in self-loathing my colleague Pat and I attempted years ago; namely trying to view all five Rocky movies in one sitting. Thus it is that I throw down the gauntlet to all of you Knights out there. It's impossible! There is only so much Rocky Balboa a human being can stand. If you say that you have or can do it there is only one thing I can say; you sir, are a liar!

It's day five and I've decided to test my limits by reviewing a movie that focuses on a kind of music I wouldn't inflict on my worst enemy. Of course my worst enemy is Costner, but I'm pretty sure he already enjoys country music. So I wouldn't inflict this torture on my second worst enemy. Rhinestone is one of only two Stallone movies in which his love of self is tempered enough to share top billing (the other being Tango & Cash. Cop Land does not qualify as a true Stallone production.) This is the only Stallone movie in which Sly's co-star actually shows more flesh than he does, and boy does she! Jake, played by Dolly Parton, is a country singer in the big apple, a fairly rare thing. In order to get out of her contract with her sleazy manager, Jake bets him that she can turn anyone into a country music star. Enter, Nick Martinelli (Sylvester Stallone), a crazy cabbie who doesn't know a thing about the cowboy lifestyle. How can she turn this Italian "Yo check me out, I'm ripped!" stallion into a singer who can win over the hearts of a tobacco-chew'n, whiskey-drinking crowd? Good question, but I refuse to go into much detail as to what transpires in this movie. Wasn't watching it enough penance for whatever sins I may have committed?! Suffice it to say that Sly and Dolly fall for one another while he connects with the country way of life, and they win the bet. There it is. Now for the love of god, never watch this film! I must say one thing, however, Stallone was fearless in putting himself out there for this roll. He looks like an absolute fool, and yet I got the feeling it wasn't all that hard for him to do.

At this point you may be asking yourself, "Fletch, with all of the badness that has been brought into this world through Stallone, how did you happen to pick these five films?" Good question, my intrepid friends. My attempt was to show a cross-section of Sly's erroneous career. As you may have noticed, as the week has progressed the Hamlins have been in steady decline. Rhinestone probably shouldn't be awarded any Hamlins, but I will give one for each of Miss Parton's, er, contributions. Truth be told, Stallone provides enough material to warrant an unprecedented second week of reviews, but I won't have the energy to think about that for many a moon. I hope you enjoyed this week of Stallone, I'm quite sure that I didn't. You probably won't be reading anything from me for a while. I'll be purging the demons Sly has provided through copious amounts of alcohol and intravenous drugs.

Hamlin Grade: 2

Fletch is a killing word!