Predictable and corny. When the Soviet fans as well as the Soviet government officials stand up and cheer Rocky at the end, you can't help but roll your eyes in disbelief. Cold War metaphors delivered with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer dampens the storytelling. Should have stopped at three. Four, no more. A camp classic, funny for all the wrong reasons. There are simply too many ludicrous elements to ignore: Paulie's robot; Brigitte Nielsen, even less expressive than the robot; about a thousand music-video-styled montages; Lundgren's delivery of Drago's deadly dialogue and much more. The crazed flag-waving would be a lot easier to take if it weren't so clearly a commercial calculation meant to salvage what is otherwise a crass, careless, shamelessly padded film. Ridiculous jingoistic nonsense. Even the hint of political power that Rocky garners by the end of this latest battle is made to seem like more of the same empty glory. Stallone, perhaps still punch-drunk from the early success, would have been better advised to have quit rather than suffer the body blows of this nonsense.