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Cyborg Cop - The TwistedEdge Review

After watching this movie, we've decided that Robocop 3 was a masterpiece.
Notice how the Cyborg Cop poster doesn't have pictures of the stars on it, and doesn't tell you anything about the movie? Always a great sign...

Men in leather jackets versus androids with their tits spray-painted silver. Throw in a dizzy blonde, an irritating Bond villain wannabe and some of the most unconvincing action since Commando, and you're in for a classic.

Perhaps I'm a glutton for punishment. Perhaps it's some kind of unintentional masochistic urge. Perhaps it's the voices in my head taking control. Whatever the reason, I always seem to find myself glued to the TV screen, staring at cinematic turds such as this - Cyborg Cop. One of my greatest pleasures is to watch movies so crappy they're actually funny. While unintentionally hilarious, I can't help but feel a tiny piece of me died upon watching this.

The main problem with b-movies (other than the fact the vast majority of them are shit) is that many of them just copy ideas from whatever films are making the moola at the time. Jurassic Park does well, you get the oh-so-chessy rip off that is Primal Species. Terminator, Robocop and Commando basically ruled the 80's - so along comes Cyborg Cop.
How did it come to this? Well, a long time ago, in a universe far, far away there sat a couple of movie producers down on their luck, plotting their next attempted get rich quick scheme:

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

"No-one will notice the continuity errors in this comic either! They're all morons!"

The story of how a cinematic monstrosity like Cyborg Cop could ever come to be

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the story of how this wretched abomination was puked into the world of cinema.

And so Cyborg Cop was born.

Seriously - that's all there was to it. That's actually what happened. Cartoon speech bubbles and all.

Kind of inspiring, huh?

Despite laughable special effects (so bad they make Commando look like Die Hard), a script so bad it's comical, and a plot with more holes than Spongebob Squarepants (more on that later), it's the wafer thin characters that really make this movie special. Check it out:

Our homo-erotic hero...

By taking one look at our hero, you can tell what kind of thing those twisted, bitter wardrobe people were looking for. Obviously, wanting to get the point across that the gun toting trigger happy psychopath is a real tough guy, they decided that the leather-clad Hell’s Angel kinda look was the way to go. Those wankers in the wardrobe department had obviously never seen a real life Hell’s Angel – these are beer guzzling, tatty beard wearing badasses who’d make a T-Rex look like a cockless sissy in comparison. Our man is waaay too much of a pretty boy ponce to pull this off.

What we’re left with instead is a man who looks like he failed the Village People audition and refused to give the costume back. All he needs is one of those oh-so-camp handlebar moustaches to really finish the look. Not only does he sport a leather jacket that makes him look like a reject from a George Michael pop video, but he also insists on wearing it shirtless and unzipped. You know, because seeing his nipples makes the world a sunnier, happier place. Cyborg Cop’s main hero looks like a cross between David Hasselhoff and the gay stripper from the beginning of Terminator 3. I’m sure his mother was delighted.

Cyborg Cop: For the fifth and final time - no! I'm not David bloody fucking Hasselhoff!
For the fifth and final time - no! I'm not David bloody fucking Hasselhoff!
While not parading around the streets of America showing people the armadillo he’s shoved down his jeans, our intrepid hero also likes shooting people. He is a cop after all. Other than always looking smug about the size of his weapon, our hero comes across as being excruciatingly bland and forgettable. So much so infact that just two hours after watching the film I’ve already forgotten his name. Not that it matters, with a character thinner than an anorexic supermodel in a prisoner of war camp. He doesn’t even have any corny one-liners, which makes him even worse than Arnie... and that’s BAD. I’ll call him Johnny. Say hi, kids!
His battery-powered buddy...

Cyborg Cop: Mike was very disappointed with his mail order sex doll.
Mike was very disappointed with his mail order sex doll.

Next up is... ah crap I’ve forgotten his name too. It’s not that I’m stupid – it’s just that the characters in this movie are about as interesting as watching your fingernails grow for a couple of hours. I didn’t think it possible, but this guy (I’ll nickname him Beavis) is so bad that he makes Johnny look like Al Pacino in comparison. With all the charisma of a lobotomized science teacher, Beavis may be the only person in this world more irritating than my ex-girlfriends. The very fact that Beavis got beaten in the audition by Johnny is bad enough – let alone the probability that Beavis only got the part because he was the only other person to show up.

Fortunately for the poor souls stuck watching this film, he is killed off nice and early on in the movie – an event that would’ve brought tears of joy to my eyes were it not for the knowledge of the clichéd revenge plot to follow. There’s a twist, however, as later on Beavis is reanimated... as a greasy haired robot. You can tell he’s a robot because he’s wearing white powder on his face and he’s had his tits sprayed silver. If becoming an android results in your face being paler and your hair being darker, does this mean Goths are really robots in disguise? Creepy.

This one's eeeeeevil...

The best evil bad guys are those who can get inside the mind of the viewer. Hannibal Lecter terrified audiences for a decade not just with his crazy biting / flesh eating / baton wielding ways, but also because he could know someone better than they knew themselves just by looking at them.

This is a target all bad guys should aim for; a target which our baddie - let's call him Mike - misses by lightyears.

Robbed of our sinister villain, we're left with a Pavarotti lookalike in a silly white suit. And yes, that over-sized Wham! wannabe piece of fashion suicide is the only suit he owns. Poor thing. Probably blew all his money on his evil lair.

Oh, and did I mention he's British? Because, as you know, us Brits are all evil, malicious, megalomaniacal masterminds hell-bent on world domination.

Heck, even Hugh Grant has his own shark pool and moving laser beam table.

Rumour has it he's invading Belgium next July.

Cyborg Cop: Mike's plan to anally smuggle animals into the country goes horribly wrong.
Mike's plan to anally smuggle animals into the country goes horribly wrong.
Even worse is that Mike sounds like Brian Blessed. And he keeps touching the other bad guys, putting his arm round them, hugging them... he's got a lot of love to give, ol' Mike. Maybe the endless barrage of pink shirts is screwing with his brain. As you can see, Mike is pretty damn inept, and would probably have passed the Bond audition had it not been for the fact he's about as scary as a 6ft 350lbs teddy bear. He also has an underground fortress where he builds cyborgs. Everyone needs a hobby I guess...
Another retard for the pile...

The hideous love interest from Cyborg Cop
"I'm meant to fill it with diesel oil?! Ah crap - I thought you said weasel oil!" *

Next up is the love interest / T&A titty flasher of the movie. Because it wouldn’t be a needlessly macho action movie without it, right? Except when it comes to boner-inducing femme fatales of modern cinema, this one ranks up there with... erm... John Candy.

Imagine if the dumb, slow, dizzy blonde that Goldie Hawn made a fortune portraying during the 80’s was actually real. Good. Now imagine if they sucked out her brains with a vacuum cleaner and replaced them with a hamster in a wheel.

Now electrocute her and drug her to the point where she loses the control of her saliva glands. Now spin her round 2000 times just to make her that extra bit dizzy. Done all that? Good – you’re almost close to what we’re presented with here.

Seeing this ditsy. clueless Barbie doll on my TV screen makes me suddenly realise why so many women hate action movies.

Oh well, at least for once the hero of the movie doesn’t have bigger breasts than the heroine.

Woefully acted, painfully written, and dumb beyond the realms of the English language (we’re talking crappyness to such a level where special new words have to be invented just to describe how painfully retarded she really is), this is the kind of walking cinematic time bomb that can only be cured by a gunshot wound to the head.

Tragically, that doesn’t happen – although if it did, seeing the look on her face as she fell dead would have made me laugh like a child at the circus. I can’t remember her name either. I’ll call her Britney: the battery-free sex doll.

Britney’s main role in this movie is barely even that of a 2D love interest. It’s like the writer grabbed the book of clichés and followed it to the letter – she starts the movie as a total bitch who can’t stand the hero’s guts. They argue like children until some shitty encounter I can’t be arsed to remember takes place, bringing the two together in a bond of sex that keeps them together forever – or at least until after the credits have rolled. Oh, and she also gets kidnapped. Because that’s the last thing we’d expect. Why use your fingers to induce bulimic vomiting when there’s dredge like this?

* [Ed Note: We make no apologies for what is, quite frankly, the greatest caption in the history of everything.]

Damien...

Although a character of little or no importance to the plot (ironic really, considering he’s Beavis’s son) I decided this little shit deserved a mention. Why? Is it the horrendous sweater? No. The rather creepy likeness with Macaulay Culkin? No.

It’s the fact that from the (literally) thousands of movies I’ve seen, this has to be BY FAR THE MOST ANNOYING LITTLE FUCKING TURD IN THE HISTORY OF CINEMA.

He’s even more annoying than the woman from Commando – an achievement of epic proportions. I have no idea who the child actor is (watch him turn out to be Matt Damon knowing my luck) and I’m sure he’s a nice guy. But his performance here makes me long for the bumbling, irritating ways of the brat behind Anakin Skywalker in Episode 1. He really is that bad.

I mean, check these lines out. And they really are the first things he says:

Cyborg Cop: Tragically, Beavis has his hands round the wrong side of the little brat's throat...
Tragically, Beavis has his hands round the wrong side of the little brat's throat...
Beavis: “What is it with you and that magazine? You haven’t said three words since we picked you up.”
Damien: “I can’t be a good architect if I don’t stay current on trends, Philip.”

(Yes, he really does call his own Dad Philip. Is that Beavis's real name? Does it even matter when followed by such a panty-wetting follow-up as...)

Damien: “And actually I’ve said thirty-eight words, not counting these of course.”

Death is too good for this little smart arse. Even now, hours after watching the movie, I'm having visions of his scrawny little head being crushed to goo by a runaway freight train. The geeky little bastard.

The plot... hole.

Cyborg Cop: Our intrepid hero makes sure the coast is clear before getting ready to have some fun...
Our intrepid hero makes sure the coast is clear before getting ready to have some fun...

The plot for this cinematic dive-bomb is expectedly simple. Two renegade, trigger-happy cops (is there any other kind in Hollywood?) are called out to stop a psycho. A situation arises and they end up shooting the mid-pubescent moron behind it. It was probably for the best – the pimply prick has a woman hostage and threatened to “blow her motherfucking head off” if he couldn’t see his "mommy." Yes, really.

I guess that’s what people did before they had mobile phones. You’d think he’d just write to her or something – but this is America after all, I guess. Bang bang, he’s dead, because having to hire enough cast members to facilitate an entire hostage negotiation team would be way beyond the budget of this movie. Problem is? He’s the mayor’s son (or some other ranking government official / media mogul / cat scratcher. I forgot as soon as I heard it.)

So naturally, the two cops (that’s Johnny and Beavis, by the way) are busted, kicked off the force, whatever.

Believe it or not, this opening scene wasn’t so bad, and actually was reasonably paced, well shot, and actually filled viewers with some kind of tension. Worry not, dear reader – it’s all downhill from here. After being kicked off the force, Johnny goes into exile, and spends all day drinking beer and playing pool... kinda like me.

Of course, the two cops are still friends and still shoot the shit together, or play poker, or talk about 'Nam, or spoon, or whatever the fuck it is Hollywood cops do when not on patrol.
This is the part where the character building takes place (or lack thereof) and where we’re introduced to Damien. Hooray! (Sick bags on stand-by...)

Anyway, they do their macho bullshit, play some pool, and Beavis announces he’s off on some dodgy sounding covert op. Obviously not too covert, however, considering he’s going around telling everyone.

Next thing we know, we’re off in Africa or something with Beavis and his soon-to-be-cannon-fodder Navy Seal extras. Turns out his crack team are here to overthrow Mike and his evil cyborg buddies.

Obviously they forgot that cyborgs tend to be bullet-proof, and get their asses handed to them.

Another victory for military intelligence. I mean, for Christ’s sake, haven’t these people seen Terminator?! Beavis’s capture leaves no-one but him surprised.

Cyborg Cop: Our devious bad guy also does hamster impressions.
Our devious bad guy also does hamster impressions.
Johnny gets news his homeboy’s been pinched, and goes off on your standard one man army kamikaze mission to get him back. He runs into a whole barrage of poorly scripted, cliché-ridden dickheads along the way including corrupt officials, possibly racist portrayals of Marley-wannabe Rastafarians, and of course the annoying bitch from hell Britney.

Oh, and they have sex. This is an action movie after all. All while following your usual string of woefully convenient clues, each one bringing our intrepid adventurer one step closer to his goal.

A very busy man indeed – all this while still looking tanned, hairy and fabulous. It’s worth also noting that no matter how many jeep chases, random shootouts or pointlessly macho bar room brawls he gets into, his hair remains perfectly gelled and styled. Clearly a trigger happy psycho with vanity issues.
Cyborg Cop: This one had us craving bananas for weeks...
There’s only one nagging fact thwarting Johnny’s otherwise immaculate plan – by now Mike’s gone and turned Beavis into a cyborg. It’s his thing, you see. Well, I say 'transformed' him – he’s actually just sprayed him silver, combed his hair back, applied some white face powder ala The Crow and given the guy a new leather jacket. The special effects of this movie clearly know no limit.

Mike’s evil plan is to use his newly acquired Battery-Powered-Beavis and another cyborg he has in the wings to sell en masse to your usual shady black market terrorists, who want to assassinate the president.

If you ask me, rather than spending millions on daft looking robots, they should just use a rifleman in a high window – seemed to work well in the past.

Turns out the script’s excuse for all this elaborate cyborg-related nonsense is because el Presidente has a bullet-proof car. Obviously our inept terrorists didn’t figure on just waiting for him to get out...

After 1hr 15mins of embarrassingly low-budget action, a run in between Johnny and Mike's other droid, and various other random nonsense, Johnny arrives at the villain's lair to do some damage. The "exciting" finale ensues:
Blowing you... away.

While watching the finale I couldn’t help but wonder whether the inept bad guy for this movie hired the same woefully incompetent minions as Bennett in Commando. There are more than a few uncomfortable similarities, to say the least – be it the highly unrealistic battle sequences or the laughable choreography – once again we are treated to baddies catching a torso full of lead, only to fall off a high rooftop with a perfectly gymnastic triple corkscrew and tuck.

At least now we know what happens to those failed gymnasts you see on the Olympics – they get exported to foreign lands to be cannon fodder for megalomaniacal crime lords. Perhaps this also explains why none of these hilariously inept guards knows how to use a gun.

It also makes me wonder – instead of waiting indoors for our gay porn looking hero to rack up a body count, wasting dozens of expensive hired goons, why not send your two cyborg psychotic killing machines outside to finish the show?

Cyborg Cop: Angered at having failed the Bond audition, our super villain in training went ahead and bought the Fisher Price Evil Lair Action Playset anyway.
Angered at having failed the Bond audition, our super villain in training went ahead and bought the Fisher Price Evil Lair Action Playset anyway.
Why not kill off the gun-loving maniac hero BEFORE he burns down your whole evil complex? Rather than that, our semi-retarded bad guy does the warfare equivalent of throwing McNuggets at a lion. Oh, sorry – I’m forgetting myself. This is a wannabe Bond villain we’re talking about here. Winning just isn’t in his nature – to the point where I’m now wondering if Mike was born with the words “Born to Lose” tattooed across his fat, Limey ass.
Cyborg Cop: Beavis quickly began to regret choosing Radio Shack as his plastic surgeon.
Beavis quickly began to regret choosing Radio Shack as his plastic surgeon.
Things explode. Jeeps tip and roll. Many un-named former gymnasts die. You know the routine.

Then comes the final battle: Johnny & Beavis (after an excruciatingly cheesy bringing-him-back-to-his-senses speech) vs Other Droid and Mike. Can you guess who wins, folks? Go on, have a guess. Do you even care? I won’t spoil the ending for you, other than to regretfully inform you that neither Britney nor that annoying little brat Damien die. Life’s a bitch, huh?

If you're like me you'll be too busy thanking whatever God(s) you worship for the fact that this cinematic abortion has finally ended, to go on thinking about the countless continuity errors and plot holes like surround this movie like flies surround warm horse shit.

All that's left now is to kick back and enjoy the cheesy retro power-ballad that fills the ending credits - definitely my favourite part of the movie.

Screenshots...

A few images captured from the movie just to finish things off here - click on the below images to enlarge.

Cyborg Cop: Hotel management regretted allocating the ex KGB man the job of valet parking.
Hotel management regretted allocating the ex-KGB man the job of valet parking.
Cyborg Cop: Gareth regretted trying his hand at the 'light your own fart' gag.
Gareth regretted trying his hand at the 'light your own fart' gag.

Cyborg Cop: Gareth was very unhappy at being mocked for his magnetic nipples.
Gareth was very unhappy at being mocked for his magnetic nipples.

In conclusion...

One of the good things about the cinematic monstrosity that is Cyborg Cop, is that it proves once and for all that ripping off the core idea of successful movies in the vain hope of reeling some of that movie's cash is a bad idea. (Golly, what a long sentence!) B-movie rip offs have never, and will never, be anything other than utter shit. A word to all aspiring directors / producers / script writers thinking of producing a feeble, fart-like failure such as this - don't even bother - there's no way you're going to build yourself a career by ripping off the ideas of others.

All you're going to do is make people laugh at you. People like me. Face it, I've probably got more people reading this humble review that you've ever had paying to see your movies. So for Christ's sake pull your thumb out your ass and come up with something original - for the sake of all mankind.

This movie contains the following chunks of wholesome goodness...

Here's some content symbols for you to feast and ravish upon. For an insight into our ratings system etc click here.

Bad acting. Crazily inept supervillains.

Fashion suicide.

Homo-erotic sleaze. Macho bullshit.
Morons. Shameless tit flashing. Unconvincing ass kicking.        
The score...



6 bottles of Jack required to forget this film.
Infinitely more to forgive.

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