Sylvester Stallone is one of the most likable actors in Hollywood for the last half century. He'd give John Wayne the proverbial run for his money.
Madeleine Stowe is a dish, and has that beautiful hypnotic voice which turns men into seventeen-year-old hormone-clanging machines.
Anthony Quinn is an icon. The man has left behind a body of work to be admired and envied.
So what's wrong with Avenging Angelo?
As with the earlier review of Marlowe; aside from the bad script, bad editing, bad pacing, bad performances, bad lighting, bad shot composition, bad plot, bad ending, and bad concept . . . it's a gem!
Stallone is Frankie, the inept bodyguard of Angelo (Quinn). Frankie manages to get his only client waxed, because if he didn't there wouldn't be an Avenging Angelo movie. Perhaps Stallone should rethink this plot point, and allow us to keep those 90 minutes in our lives.
We get to see Madeleine in her nightie more than once, which is always nice. The film also follows Ms. Stowe around as she flounces through the film in haute couture, the actress' only reprieve from this bomb.
Quinn, as mentioned, departs early, which is his reprieve.
Stallone, however, is with us throughout, dispatching hitmen hired to take out Ms. Stowe, who happens to be the daughter of Quinn. Please don't ask about this connection. It's too stupid to contemplate.
In the early-in-the-movie signaled ending, Stallone travels to Sicily.
And remains there.
Okay, that's more than enough for Avenging Angelo.