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The Terminator
Terminator 2: Judgement
Day
Retrospectives
- July 2003
USA, 1984 & 1991. Directed by James Cameron.
Written by James Cameron, Gale Anne Hurd, William Wisher Jr. Produced by
Gale Anne Hurd & James Cameron. Photographed by Adam Greenberg. Edited
by Conrad Buff, Mark Goldblatt, Richard A. Harris. Music by Brad Fiedel.
Released by Orion & Carolco.
Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Linda Hamilton,
Michael Biehn, Edward Furlong, Robert Patrick, Joe Morton, Earl
Boen.
The impending release of "Terminator 3" has been
weighing on my mind. I'm not one of those guys who count down the days when
the sequels of classics are coming out -- unless they're natural continuations
of stories, like the sequels to "The Matrix", I put them out of my mind until
they reach the screens. The term "long-awaited sequel" is thrown around too
much. When a good deal of sequels just plain suck, what's the point of awaiting
something that's going to burst our bubbles?
Now I've seen the trailer for "T3", and I'm sort
of excited. It looks like it will be an efficient summer action picture,
with well-crafted footage of nuclear explosions and an interesting new villain.
But the first two movies are flat-out genius, and how can the series go any
further? There was closure at the end of the second film, and besides, this
new one has not been made by James Cameron, who gave the original movies
strong value as both art and entertainment, in ways that fit perfectly with
each other but still managed to go in separate directions.
"The Terminator" was basically a
chase film -- it introduced the story of an ordinary woman named Sarah Connor
(Linda Hamilton), living in 1984, finding herself pursued by a giant killing
machine (Arnold Schwarzenegger) and accompanied by a freedom fighter from
the future (Michael Biehn). Sarah was to be the mother of a great man, said
the soldier; there was to be a nuclear war in 1997, provoked by computers
who got smart and found all humans a threat, and John Connor would grow up
to lead the resistance.
The background of the story gives the character
struggles grand importance, and lends itself to great visual ideas, like
Biehn's memories of his war-torn time, and the concept of the terminator
itself. This was of course the movie that turned Schwarzenegger from a well-known
muscleman into an international screen star; he was originally supposed to
play the role of protector, but I can't imagine him doing too convincing
a job of running around all vulnerable and delivering lines like, "I love
you, Sarah
I always have." Instead, his performance is based around
the imposing nature of his physical presence. His robot is controlled,
emotionless, only ever moving to get somewhere, kill someone, fix himself
up or take creepily mechanical inventories of his surroundings. Is it convincing
that a hulk as big and mean as Schwarzenegger would be able to get around
crowded city streets more or less unnoticed? Maybe, as the movie is set in
Los Angeles, but it doesn't really matter -- it's all about
mood.
There is a stunning sense of momentum about that
original film. Even in the scenes where nobody is fighting, Hamilton and
Biehn are hiding, planning, feeling and expecting the presence of the stalker.
Like some of the best of horror villains, like Jaws and Michael Myers, the
terminator is absent of reason, and goes forward constantly, acting on purpose
and programming. "That terminator is out there!" says Biehn. "It can't be
bargained with, it can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse,
or fear -- and it absolutely will not stop. Never. Until you are
dead."
The fact that the movie is so tightly wound takes
the attention off its cheapo qualities. "The Terminator" went on to be a
massive hit, but it was made in a matter of weeks on a budget of $6million.
In many ways it looks like an exploitation film -- the images of the post-nuclear
landscape are awesome, but you can tell they're model shots, and you can
notice the stop motion in some of the robotics. Humans are seen in sketches
that exaggerate the fashions of the time; the multi-coloured punks who get
attacked at the beginning, the patrons of the Tech Noir nightclub, the cops
in the station house -- they're well-acted cartoons. Even the darkly rain-washed
and neon-lit streets seem to rehash imagery from classic crime fiction in
the same manner as contemporary comic books. It's not that the film is cheesy,
just that it's a lot more rough and ready than memory and reputation would
suggest. Within this style there are some joins, but the intensity of the
plot and the intricacy and passion in Cameron's vision sweep up our attention
and wash them over.
If "The Terminator" was the little movie that
could, "Terminator 2: Judgment Day" was a monster -- released
in 1991 after budgeting at $100million, it was the most expensive movie ever
made up to that time, a big, brash crowd-pleasing epic that made us rethink
the way we viewed cinematic special effects. "I have to feel sorry for the
movie industry," said Schwarzenegger at the time. "From this movie on, they're
going to be screwed. Where else can they go? This is it. This is the answer
and these poor studio executives are sitting out there trying to figure out
how to top it. And you know what? They can't!"
They did of course try, and we're still suffering
the consequences, but that doesn't detract from how good "T2" was in itself.
Again, this one is sort of a stalk-and-run movie, but on a grander scale,
with rearranged pieces. Cameron's masterstroke this time was to recognise
the changed star image of Schwarzenegger, to play on the way we associated
him with the unstoppable terminator and mix it up with the one-liner tough
guy hero he became in "Commando" and "Predator". Once more the machines have
sent a terminator back through time, but Arnie is on a mission for the
resistance, reprogrammed by the future John Connor to go back and protect
his younger self.
Edward Furlong (who will not be appearing in "T3",
allegedly because the studio pussied out after getting scared by his history
of drug problems) played young John as a kid living in a foster home, who
had grown up being told that Sarah's stories about the future were the rantings
of a madwoman. He's getting to that stage of young life where the clothes
become scruffy and attitude disobedient, while Sarah is stuck in a mental
institution. Terminator busts them out, and lays it out for them: There's
another cyborg out there, better, slicker, and come with me if you want to
live.
Sarah is harder now -- angry that she's got to
put faith in one of the machines that turned her life upside down and killed
her one love, sober from years of nightmares about the upcoming apocalypse.
Furlong is mainly lost in thought, trying to get over his teen angst and
realise that all the stories were true. He forms a bond with the Schwarzenegger
character, finding solace in its matter-of-fact responses, getting a kick
out of teaching it funny phrases. The memorable lines in "T1" revolved around
how trouble was coming: "Nice night for a walk, huh?"; "Sarah Connor?"; "I'll
be back." Here, they underline how the terminator has become John Connor's
pet, and provide theatrical laughs: "Because you told me to;" "No problemo;"
"Hasta la vista, baby."
Back in the day, the original terminator was supposed
to be played by Lance Henriksen, a lean, composed actor who ended up in the
first movie in the supporting role of a cop. As the villain in the sequel,
Robert Patrick uses a Henriksen kind of presence; we've already seen one
entry where the bad guy is arresting for his size, and the follow-up creates
an atmosphere of menace with a character whose human form is unnerving by
way of being slight, compact, friendly. The T-1000 is a liquid metal executioner,
able to slurp along the ground, assume the forms of things it touches or
turn itself into stabbing weapons. It looks so amazing that we have no idea
how the good characters can beat it; shoot the thing, and it just oozes around
and heals itself up again.
Do you remember the first time you saw the liquid
metal special effect, when the movie was being hyped and clips were starting
to get on TV? I'm assuming nobody forgets it. Cameron had used the technique
before, in "The Abyss" (1989), but there the story didn't rest on it, and
it wasn't that great a movie anyway. Digital technology is more commonly
used now than in 1991, but it's looking faker and feeling more redundant
by the day, being used by artists and technicians who think it's a magic
all-purpose solution for creating hits. "T2" found the perfect use for computer
graphics; they visualise something that would look otherworldly even if it
really existed, and somehing essential to the plot.
And after all the showdowns, explosions, crazy
bits of art design and technological reinventions, the "Terminator" movies
offer something else. At the end of both, I find myself overcome by an
extraordinary swell of emotion. It's not exactly that we mourn for how the
state of technology is going to expand just like the movie says it will,
or even for the masses of men and women who would die in a nuclear war --
the movie deals with those things, but the impact is created by putting them
in direct human terms, showing people who are willing to take the weight
of those grand issues on their shoulders. By the finale of the first film,
Sarah is ready to look within herself and find courage and strength without
quite knowing how. "There's a storm coming," say the folks at a gas station
as she travels into the desert. "I know," she replies, and leaves it at that,
knowing she has to keep it together. In "T2", there's the sequence where
Arnie has to lower himself into molten steel, and if it feels like we're
choked up by the death of a killer robot, the reaction makes sense, because
John Connor's father figure is leaving him.
It all revolves around the different ways the
movies use the figure of the terminator, and his mechanised, unstoppable
nature. The original was mean, compact and scary, while the second film has
more breathing room for the finer points of science fiction and drama. "It
absolutely will not stop" is still true, but now, as Sarah muses, it means
something else: "Watching John with the machine, it was suddenly so clear.
The terminator would never stop -- it would never leave him, and it would
never hurt him, never shout at him or get drunk and hit him, or say it was
too busy to spend time with him. It would always be there, and it would die
to protect him."
The films are not moving despite being action
spectaculars, but because of it. The violent clashes and detailed stories
get us close to the characters. We've been anxious for them, we sympathize
with their responsibilities, and ultimately we're proud of them. The essence
is all there, in that classic Brad Fiedel score
thudding and metallic,
rhythmic and precise, but with trumpeting, anthemic strains underneath,
suggesting a lot of meaning and stirring us in the way that movies should.
"Terminator" will be back, but can it ever be this good?
COPYRIGHT©
2003 Ian Waldron-Mantgani
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