We’ve never needed any Terminator sequels. The Cold War-era kick of the 1984 original has never needed one more minute of elaboration. We never needed to meet John Connor. We never needed to hear the word “Skynet” more than a few times. We never needed any fake ruminations on the topic of predetermined destiny in between scenes of humanoid robots blowing up cars and buildings. We never needed anything more than one airtight action flick that has a big, bleak mushroom cloud hanging over its head.
Yes, that means that I’m in the minority who doesn’t care much for Terminator 2: Judgement Day. It’s well-made, but it comes bearing too much 90s optimism. It’s not as tough.
So the only reason for me to see the third movie is morbid curiosity about just how bad it was gonna be now that the story is so used up that even James Cameron is done with it. (And it took me fifteen years, and the movie about to expire on Netflix streaming, to reach that level of curiosity.)
So, John Connor is in his twenties now and, once again, another robot from the future is trying to kill him except this time it’s an ultra-advanced lady robot. Schwarzenegger shows up to protect him (as well as Claire Danes, who’s got her own bright future in the forthcoming robot apocalypse) and deliver little parodies of his old one-liners. And whatever and whatever and whatever. It’s just more running and explosions, except this time we don’t really care if our dullard heroes get away. Kill ’em all. Let the machines take over. I don’t see a problem here.
This tries to bring back the end-of-the-world vibe of the original film, but it can’t compare. In 1984, nuclear apocalypse was a hot-button topic that people were really thinking about. In 2003, nuclear apocalypse was a merely a special effect.
In a strange way, this film plays like a B-movie in denial. It’s got big-budget effects and a big star (in a supporting role), but the rest is ramshackle, secondhand, and thrown-together. It’s like they gave all of the money to Arnold and the special effects team and they had about $10,000 to spend on everything else. Even the lead actor is some serious B-movie casting. They not only didn’t just get Edward Furlong to come back as John Connor, they didn’t even get an actor who looks like him. They got Nick Stahl, who’s got the screen presence of the third cutest guy in a boy band.
Let’s also mention the villain, the all-business, robot of few words, T-X, played by Kristanna Loken with one of the easiest acting jobs of 2003. “Just glare and have all the personality of a used teabag”, seems to have been director Jonathan Mostow’s guidance for her.
Also, am I the only person who thinks that the campy moment where Claire Danes shouts to the lady Terminator “Just die, you bitch!” is a clumsy James Cameron homage, referencing the showcase scene in Aliens where Sigourney Weaver says “Get away from her, you bitch!”? I bet not.
Followed by another sequel, Terminator: Everyone Else Has Stopped Using Numbers in their Sequel Titles, So We Will, Too.