The focus of my review on James Cameron's masterpiece will be my passion for the man-machine themes, which from the beginning of the industrial revolution (with antagonistic movements like Luddism) to modern times (see Isaac Asimov and his works) have fascinated and inspired the minds of artists, intellectuals, and philosophers. Terminator is the allegorical transposition of the fear (still primitive in 1984, the year of the movie) which inspired the aforementioned Ned Ludd, that machines would one day be so sophisticated and elaborate as to replace if not annihilate man as the earth's dominant species. In the film in question, the "machina vs homo" element collides with the issue of time travel and the unpredictability of human fate, a factor always linear and (according to my interpretation of the film) unchangeable despite man's alteration of the past. Films like "Back to the Future" or "Kate & Leopold" will delve deeper (albeit in a much more user-friendly and commercial way) into the complex correlation that links time and destiny. Philosophy, in this case, takes the lead, and Terminator itself has the merit or rather the cinematic coherence of bringing it to the comprehension of the average user of the '80s, disguising it under the false semblance of an easy and packaged plot at first glance. In the end, the reason why man dies can only be found in the inner self, that self which so easily transforms from "I god" to "I sinner, weak, who am merely dust, and to dust I must return." Yet, in the face of death, man rediscovers himself capable, more alive than ever before, and as the introduction points out, he rebels, struggles within the reality around him, seeking a way out. He re-evaluates fraternal life with his fellow men, reviving the communion that abundance had torn from his hands, making him eccentric and selfish. Somehow, therefore, it is the threat that makes man better, forcing him to remedy before it’s too late. As Socrates said, no man does (or seeks) evil, evil for itself. Philosophical parentheses aside, it is here, in this factor, that the origin of the anthropological civilization we know is to be found, and from which, precisely because we are and will always be the same, we can never escape.
Now, returning to the work in question, just as in the Bible the world is saved by a single man (in that case, God lowering himself to the condition of man), so in Terminator a single man (and not "the people," as some nostalgic and ridiculous '68 ideologue might wish) can save the world. Save it from what? Save it from its not yet revealed enemy. A machine with human semblance, the Terminator indeed. Hence, the theme of transfiguration, useful to people's purposes, the balance between being and appearing, a fixation of literature since the invention of writing, also hidden under a deceptive plot, is rendered at the service of cinema. Cinema of great class in this case. If the enemy wishes to destroy, the anti-enemy must create, or rather, protect creation and its destiny before it is destroyed forever. The destiny of creation, in this case, will be decisive for the future of the entire human race, which will be drawn into a struggle it perhaps had not foreseen. The element the anti-Terminator must protect is an ordinary and anonymous woman, one of the many in Los Angeles, named Sarah Connor. She does not know that her future son, named John Connor, will be the decisive element in the victory of humans over machines, which in a not too distant time will wage war on their makers.
In summary, in the future, machines will have serious trouble with this John Connor, so they send a Terminator back in time to kill the mother of the threat (Sarah) before the threat itself is conceived (John). The human resistance faction, led by John Connor, finds out, so they send a hero, Kile Reese, back as well. The film heavily leverages the terror that loomed over the world from the start of the Cold War about the possible nuclear confrontation between the USSR and USA, precisely because humanity will be destroyed (in 1997) by a nuclear conflict ignited by machines. It also incorporates a veiled critique of the armament system driven by Ronald Reagan's policies at the time, as the machines' access to the world will be through a military defense computer protocol called Skynet. Once at its destination, the Terminator (a cybernetic being covered in living flesh and almost indestructible and unstoppable), knowing the city and the name where Sarah Connor lives, systematically runs through the phone book, killing all possible Sarah Connors. But before it reaches the real one, salvation, Kile, reaches the real one. From that point on, it will be a continuous escape from the killer machine and, perhaps for the first time in her life, Sarah will feel important. Kile will tell her about her son, how he taught nuclear war survivors to recognize and fight Terminators, how to survive. John himself will give Kile a photo of the legendary mother, Sarah specifically. He will keep that photo every day, eventually coming to love that woman with the sad face depicted on the cellulose. So much so that he will travel through time for her. Meanwhile, with every passing hour, Sarah and Kile become more and more fatigued by the escape, and the Terminator that hunts them, being a machine, feels nothing, not even pain.
Despite all the challenges that the mission imposes on him, Kile Reese will fiercely protect Sarah, fleeing as far as possible from the Terminator. Until the moment a confrontation becomes inevitable. After an evening of love that I will describe later, Sarah and Reese are discovered by the Terminator in their hideout, and from there, the brutal, decisive, and fierce final showdown with attached chase begins. Kile, who had previously managed to acquire some explosives, succeeds in blowing them up to destroy the tanker truck the Terminator drives during the chase. The devastating explosion seems to kill the Terminator, but in reality, it only kills its appearance because the fire burns the skin that covers it. Thus, not long after, from the flames emerges what the machine truly is: a metal exoskeleton with chilling blood-red backlit eyes, sharp limbs, a cold gaze, and a single, most dreadful will: to carry out the instructions, to kill Sarah Connor once and for all. At that point, Kile and Sarah take refuge in a factory next to the road (the action is completely nocturnal) but the Terminator's pursuit is relentless. At that moment, it is time for the hero to play the last card, the most precious one: his own life. By inserting another grenade into the machine's exoskeleton, it explodes along with him, thus dying. The still active remaining part of the Terminator is demolished by Sarah herself, in a hydraulic press, using one machine to destroy another. After some time, she discovers she is pregnant, due to the night spent with Kile. Thus, the hero himself has created hope by loving humanity, embodied in the figure of Sarah.
Now, I could reflect at length on the artistic values of this film, but I'll also dedicate a little space to the technical side, which is also very present. Star Wars taught us that special effects were not solely tied to B-movies, certainly. The evolution from 1977 to 1984 has been nothing short of exceptional and would become the fortune of box-office films. And Terminator does not shy away, despite being an artistically high product, from this opportunity and does not snub it as a Fellini or Bertolucci might have. In this way, it combines technology with cultured art, a great film with the film industry, combinations that would be applied several times with truly good results (ET, Braveheart, Gladiator, The Prestige, Collateral...). Returning to special effects, both visual and auditory, these are impactful and certainly useful, unfortunately, in some points, they may suffer from age (the metal exoskeleton is visually recognizable as stop-motion animated, electrical discharges are not quite realistic) but they do not compromise the final result. The soundtrack, in the style of 1997: Escape from New York, which uses 100% synthesizers and electronic sounds, is certainly worth noting, fully respecting the traditions of the '80s and also for making referential allusions to the near future (how could they know in the '80s that acoustic sounds would be more fashionable in 2000?).
The direction is sufficiently transparent, the cinematography succeeds in transporting the viewer to the future, the actors are on point and do their job. With the role of Terminator, the semi-known Schwarzenegger built his fame. As for me, I would recommend this film to anyone who will appreciate it, and I hope this review has at least given the idea of this great film, which still manages today what many films no longer manage to do (and which should be the primary goal of cinema): entertain.
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