If I had a penny for every screaming explosion in “Rambo,” I’d be dead.

This is a nasty, “Call of Duty 4” style shoot ‘em up that kicks down the door, rips out your throat and inserts a Claymore where your jugular used to be. Then it makes you swallow and do a little dance while it shoots at your feet, screaming “dance!”

It’s made the way hardcore action flicks were in the 1980s and early 90s – the era when even movies as innocent as “Back to the Future” would end with terrorist attacks just for the hell of it. Gore and carnage were the order of the day, and the only dialogue that mattered was the slow-motion “Nooooooooo” and “I’m getting to old for this s&*%.”

“Rambo” isn’t so much a throwback as it is a resurrection. There have been better action movies the past few years – “300” and, well, can’t think of any others, so nevermind – but none have made me feel like I was 8 years old again, sneaking a middle of the night peak at my dad’s VHS rental of a movie that was way too violent for me. This thing cuts to the core of what a movie in this genre should be, tossing aside meaningless nonsense such as backstory, character motivation and romance to get on with the important stuff. Here’s a look at the movie’s screenplay:

Rambo catches snakes.
Rambo caps hundreds of enemies and rescues twerpy missionaries in between reloading sessions.
The end.

Granted, there’s a little bit of dialogue interspersed in between, such as a snake going “Awww crap, what the hell?” in snake language, and a bad guy talking about raping and killing in badguyese. All the rest is tight-mouthed shooting gallery bliss. It’s Rambo and his gang of mercs against the genociding military of Burma.

Just how much of a badass is Rambo? When he played “Duck Hunt,” and he missed and the dog laughed at him, he decapitated the dog. He was on the screen for one second before I realized how shameful it is that we no longer have such awesome warrior personas making movies anymore. Daniel Craig’s Bond and Jason Bourne are what pass these days for action pimps. If Rambo approached Bourne and Bond in an alley, they’d fall to their knees and begin debating with one another which would wash Rambo’s car and which would handle his dry cleaning.

So anyway these bright-eyed missionaries visit Rambo in Thailand and beg him to take them to the worst place in the world, where they’ll pass out enough Bibles and band-aids to feel good about themselves when they’re back at home watching “Saved by the Bell” reruns. Rambo of course wants to go immediately. But he plays it off and pretends like he doesn’t until the hot chick comes to beg him. The girl has a doctor missionary boyfriend who gets on Rambo’s nerves, but Rambo doesn’t want to get back at him the simple way, by granting her the sexual fulfillment she so obviously longs for from Rambo. Nah, he does him one worse. He lets them go off on their own, get captured, then saves them both a million times, emasculating the guy in front of his woman while so thoroughly proving his superiority that for the rest of their lives together, she’ll see Rambo’s face whenever she closes her eyes.

Not that he needs it, but Rambo’s got some help in his quest to rescue in the form of a bunch of mercenaries paid for by the church to rescue their peeps. Judging from the looks of this ramshackle crew, the churchfolk would have done well to pass the collection plate a around a few more times. These guys are not only losers, but stereotypical, one-dimensional fools who make you hope Rambo “accidentally” turns his gun turret their way in the heat of battle.

The worst offender is this pompous, condescending British dude who goes along with Rambo and his crew. He’s always making snide remarks, talking smack about how slowly Rambo is driving the boat. He’s basically a version of Simon. Rambo just ignores his insults, refusing to dignify them with responses. He takes a quiet pleasure in letting him run his mouth, content that if he really felt like it, he’d toss the guy overboard and harpoon him.

So, a half star deduction for the inclusion of the mercs, which ends us up with 3.5 stars for this beautiful, brutal movie, which is just good enough to tide me over for “Rocky 7,” “Rambo 5” or, dare I dream, “Over the Top… And Back Again!”

*My novel, “Stormin’ Mormon,” is now available on Amazon. Buying it would make Rambo happy.