Vril: the power of the coming race (8/2/03)
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Terminator 3: Rise Of The Machines. [Jonathan Mostow, 2003.]
Though it is hard enough to fathom the motivations of contemporary aliens, e.g., Texans, one cannot help but suppose that the malign machine intelligences who rule the world of the mid-twenty-first century must have been thinking something about the third time being a charm when they dispatched killer android Kristanna Loken through a temporal vortex to the present day to try, once again, to terminate-with-prejudice future Heroic Leader of the Human Resistance John Conner before he can grow up to oppose them.
It is relatively easy, on the other hand, to divine the intentions of Jonathan Mostow, who here takes the reins of this franchise from the otherwise-occupied hands of erstwhile director but now King of the World James Cameron: obviously, having carefully studied the reasons for the phenomenal success of the original
Terminator, he is here attempting to reproduce its structural perfection; and so far as I can tell succeeds.
Indeed, after materializing after hours [bathed in cinematographer Don Burgess’s best imitation of Cameron’s famous signature electric-blue nightlight] in a whirling nexus of ball lightning in the display window of an upscale Beverly Hills clothing store — when the going gets tough, etc. — the arresting Ms. Loken emerges stark naked, stepping over melted mannequins and shattered glass, walks coolly across the street, appropriates a Lexus convertible from a dumbstruck matron, and rockets off down Rodeo Drive in search of her quarry; and rubber never really stops burning until the closing credits.
Though she has this time an extended shopping list, her principal target is, of course, Conner; who as here depicted by Nick Stahl is [Tina Turner to Mel Gibson/Mad Max] just a raggedy man, distressed and marginalized and much in need not simply of a fashion makeover but an attitude transplant — since, as becomes apparent in one of the scattered pauses for expository dialogue, he’s never believed the promised Day of Judgment was really averted, and is haunted by dystopian nightmares [shiny silver robots with red glowing eyes lit by more electric blue] of the wars between men and machines — in which, had the heroics of
T2 proved unavailing, he would have been destined to star.
It develops that these forebodings are justified, as Arnold explains after he in turn materializes and introduces himself to Ms. Loken by running her over with a truck [since she possesses the liquid-metal rejuvenation capabilities of her predecessor Robert Patrick, this provides only a temporary respite from pursuit]; and, after our main man pulls once and future girlfriend of the savior of humanity Claire Danes from the wreckage of her veterinary clinic and tosses her and Stahl into a getaway vehicle, the forebodings of everyone who suffered through the lengthy lectures in
The Matrix Reloaded aka Predestination 611 would probably also be justified by ongoing meditations on the themes of time, fate, freedom, determinism, and the unavoidability of the preordained apocalypse, save that these are, fortunately, continuously interrupted by gunfire and explosions while Arnold and Kristanna harry one another thru the oft-ravaged landscape of southern California [familiar to us from many previous action movies] in a variety of pickups and SUVs, a camper, a motorcycle, a fire engine, a host of police vehicles remotely controlled by Ms. Loken using her newly-minted occult powers of robot mesmerism, a big truck on which is mounted a wildly swinging crane, a hearse [chopped down during the chase to an appealing sporty-convertible option], and a Winnebago.
After a couple of hours of recreational property damage they all arrive at a supersecret desert facility, in which, guess what, the ever-clueless military-industrial complex has been busily programming the killer robots that are destined to destroy us all: can everybody say Kaboom?
The effects are interesting, but of course not groundbreaking, as were those of the second installment in the series. Regarding the cast: Mr. Stahl, unfortunately, follows Edward Furlong, who left a very distinctive imprint, even as a juvenile, upon the role of Conner; and his attempt at a knockoff of Kiefer Sutherland is not particularly successful. [Not that this is a bad idea: if they do try another episode and need an older, battleweary Conner, Kiefer is their guy.] — Ms. Danes does remarkably well fastforwarding the classic Linda Hamilton morph from Fay Wray into Michelle Yeoh. — Ms. Loken makes a vivid impression, to say the least, and I must admit the opening sequence briefly gave me hope that they intended a reprise of the memorable performance of Mathilda May in Tobe Hooper’s
Lifeforce [1985], as an alien vampire from Halley’s Comet who lays waste to London without ever figuring out the purpose of clothing. Alas, that would keep the teens out of the theater, and so no such luck; suggesting that this will be one of those cases in which the cheap straight-to-cable R-rated ripoff of the concept turns out better than the original. [As for the porno version, which would doubtless turn on the potentialities of that raygun she has built into her right arm, it would be indelicate to speculate.] — Arnold is as always Arnold, and as always I found myself emotionally involved in that all-important search for the right pair of Terminator shades. May his fashion sense never falter.
It would be churlish to wonder aloud at this point why the malign AIs of the future don’t simply dispatch a team of killer robots to terminate the writers already at work on the next installment; and anyway, I must admit, I’m curious to see how the scribes are going to dig themselves out of the smoking crater in which they’ve buried themselves with the apocalyptic grand finale which here appears to put a period to the franchise. — The star, however, will not be back, because he’s going to Sacramento to terminate Gray Davis and solve the budget crisis. — And those legislators had better look out: Arnold says talk to the hand.
____________Angels hard as they come (6/27/03)
