Terminator Salvation

Terminator Salvation (2009)

This movie sucks.
I don't even want to put the trailer up.
I would leave it at that and let it slowly die into a painful memory, but I can't allow that. This is a movie I had promised myself I wouldn't see, but wound up seeing for the following reasons: 1. I had time to kill; 2. I had brain cells to kill; 3. I was visiting a friend and we wanted to see a movie we could make fun of; 4. As much as I love Star Trek, I think seeing it four times would be too much; and 5. the only other movie I would want to see now, Up, is one I'd like to see with the lady. But now that I've seen it, I have to talk about it and why it just fails.
Nothing about this movie intrigued me. The concept (John Connor, a relatively blithe character in the second Terminator film, and a relatively annoying character in Terminator 3) is now played with the usual brooding and screaming and sullen moroseness that is characteristic of Christian Bale's style of "serious" acting. Director McG drops the ball early on in the film, shifting the narrative focus from Sam Worthington's guilt-ridden tragic hero Marcus Wright to Bale's theatrical and scene-stealing (and not in a good way) John Connor.
The Connor portrayed in this film is waaayyyy too strong for someone who is 1. human and 2. the survivor of not one, but two previous attempts on his life. Nick Stahl's interpretation of the character (as a whiney, near-manic character) made more sense than Bale's unemotional, distant, nearly indestructible leader of the human resistance (for example, take the final battle between Connor and the T-800 in the terminator factory: Connor gets thrown through glass, into metal doors which wind up dented and destroyed, and burnt by the molten hands of the terminator; oh, and he gets impaled through the heart and still manages to survive. What is this? Die Hard 4?) I would expect that someone who had to fight off two terminators while just a teenager would have some issues....but nope. It's just a typical day for Mr. Connor.
Bale's insistance on augmenting Connor's role in the film is one of the many flaws this movie possesses. The original screen story had previously centered on Marcus Wright and Kyle Reese (as played by Anton Yelchin, who between this and Star Trek has an aptitude for mimicing popular sci-fi characters), and how their relationship grows (which would have been infinitely more interesting than watching Bale shout into a CB radio).
As per Devin Faraci's breakdown of the original script as compared to the finished film over on CHUD.com last week, the problems with the film began when Mr. Bale started to make Connor the main character and sidetracking the Wright and Reese characters. By doing that, the emotional investment in either character is diminished (and that, for me, was so apparent that I wound up not caring about anyone or anything that happened in the film). Connor, in the original draft, was not to be seen until the scene in the film, keeping him a mysterious figure in the story and making his reveal that much more dramatic. Instead, the opening scene features some aerial attack, and a helicopter landing on the exoskeleton of a terminator, which is then shot in the head by.... (*big dramatic reveal*) John Connor! Only we've seen that money shot in every single preview. And at this early point in the film, Connor has done nothing to garner such an "epic" shot. In fact, in the last film he was kept alive by a robot from the future just to ensure that he survives judgment day.
Marcus Wright (as played by Sam Worthington) would have fared a lot better had the movie focused solely on him. Perhaps his MO would have been more clear, but in this version he's just a convict donating his executed body to science in order to redeem himself for the death of his brother and two cops (though it's not clear that he killed them, just that he's responsible). We learn of this in the opening scene, as he's talking to a cancer-ridden Helena Bonham-Carter (wasted as talent, and giving woefully dreadful line readings. C'mon Ms. Carter! You're way better than that!). Clumsy dialogue aside (and this dialogue is Clumsy. That "So that's what death tastes like line" seemed so out of place I just felt like asking the character what the fuck he was talking about), this scene sets up the "shocking" reveal about Marcus later in the third act (surprise: he's a cyborg but doesn't know it. Too bad the second trailer ruined that reveal also) and gives him essentially all of his backstory. However, Worthington sells the character as best he could, putting his all into it and actually making me half-care about what happens to him.
Yelchin's Reese fares a lot better, as he was the most interesting character in the whole movie (and that remains even if you haven't seen the first terminator movie). While Yelchin is able to mimic original actor Michael Biehn's trait's, his character is the only one given anything resembling an arc (and even then it's cut off in the last act). And while it was obvious from the beginning of the movie that he would wind up safe and sound, there were still several moments where I wondered...nah. I'm kidding. I wasn't once thrilled or held in suspense over what was happening, but Yelchin sure was likeable (despite that stupid mute kid Star who does NOTHING but conveniently reveal pieces of equipment that the characters just so happen to need at the exact moment they need them. I was actually rooting for that kid to kick the bucket.)
The female characters are treated with even more disdain. Bryce Dallas Howard is absolutely wasted. Completely. She plays Connor's pregnant physician wife, despite the fact she does nothing with her skills and nothing is done with the fact that she's pregnant (hell, even a cliched, "this baby is the future of humanity bullshit" speech from Connor would have at least given the impression that he cares about her.) Instead she' background fodder, a pregnant woman waiting for her husband to return safe and sound she wouldn't have to become an active part of the story (and trust me, any doctor could have performed that open-heart surgery at the end of the movie. Nothing is even made of that: hell, make her the last person in the area with open-heart-surgery-skills. Something interesting, please!)
Moon Bloodgood. No comment. Despite the fact her character seems like she was rejected from the Charlie's Angels movies, she's absolutely beautiful despite the fact she's spent X number of years fighting robots. (and a nitpick: do you think in a future where humans are a relative endangered species that members of a tiny pocket of resistance would actually execute a woman for something like freeing a friendly cyborg?) Her character is supposed to be the Linda Hamilton of this film. The Sarah Connor of this film. Too bad Bloogood that Linda Hamilton's femininity was never viewed as being more important than her character. Sarah Connor was never a woman who happened to be a strong protaganist; she was a strong, bad-ass hero who just so happened to be a woman. And she got hurt, she bled, she made mistakes and had lapses in judgment. Just as we all do.
No one in this film, aside from Marcus (and even then in small instances) seems "human". There is no emotion. No humanity. There is nothing here for me to care about. McG can direct an action sequence in a competent manner (there is a single-shot sequence where Connor climbs into a helicopter, escapes a massive explosion, gets shot down by a terminator, crashes upside down, and climbs out that was impressive), but there's no emotion. The hunter/killer chase in the second act, where Marcus, Reese and Star try to outrun two motorbike terminators, wasn't thrilling at all because I'd just barely gotten to know any of the characters and didn't know which one to root for (Connor? Wright? Reese?) Without any emotional connection it's just a bunch of loud noises and explosions.
McG allowed himself to acquiese to Mr. Bale's insistence on making Connor the central character, and as a result the film suffers horribly: the script feels rushed and has too many plot holes to even list here (I'll try to add some at the end of this review); the characters are hollow and given little to no backstory, which makes them uninteresting; the action beats were uninteresting; the dialogue feels clumsy and forced; trademarks of the series just seem thrown in to remind the audience, "Hey! You're watching a terminator movie!"; and even the music seemed lazy and horrible (this is easily Danny Elfman's worst score)...hell, even the opening credits and two-minute long typed prologue were horrible. Nothing felt thrilling or exciting: not even the reveal of digital 1984-era Arnold Schwarzenegger at the end battle (yet another Terminator film ends in a battle in a factory).
If James Cameron were involved, he would have made at least a half-decent film that at least had characters I cared about and a plot (say what you want about his films, but Mr. Cameron always has fully-formed characters, even if their arcs are cliched as in Titanic). But he's divorced himself from the Terminator franchise, and maybe he's right to do so. To me, this series ended with Terminator 3 back in 2003, and I'm happy to let it end. Fuck this movie. It wasn't even worth making fun of, as it seemed to make fun of itself. I almost feel bad for the people who gave their all for this film...but they'll still have many other films to work on in the future. There are better man-versus-machine movies out there (hell, even the Matrix sequels does it better.) And why do these types of movies require an angry black man named Barnes (in this case played by Common)?
I don't even want to talk about the script, cinematography, or score here....I'm done...

Maybe I should have seen Star Trek for a fourth time...

Plot Holes:

1. No explanation given as to why SkyNet was rounding up only some humans, but killing others (the commercials make it clear that SkyNet was trying to replicate human flesh so as to send the T-800s back in time, but there was no mention of this in the film, nor of the time-travel technology).
2. Why would SkyNet have computer consoles and interfaces designed for use by humans if humans are to be wiped out?
3. Once SkyNet recognized Kyle Reese (something it does OVER and OVER again) why does it not just kill him? Without Kyle Reese, there is no John Connor, and without John Connor there is no resistance. Just (*bam*) one bullet to the head. No human resistance.
4. On a similar note, once SkyNet has both Connor AND Reese in its headquarters, why not KILL THEM both? They're in the CENTER of SkyNet (robot city), in the CENTER of a factory BUILDING robots, and they send one (1!) unarmed T-800. Why not send in 100 hunter/killer with guns built into them? I mean, they could just make more robots if they fail (which they can't because they have GUNS attached to them). Hell, blow up the whole building. More robots can be built.
5. Why would the characters allow Marcus to sacrifice himeslf to save Connor? There isn't ANYONE else willing to give up their heart to save the "prophesized" savior of humanity? I mean, a friendly cyborg would be great to have as a bodyguard for the savior of humanity. Not only that, but Marcus could infiltrate robot territory because he's recognized as one of them: he could run in and plant bombs for them, for Christ's sake!
6. How could Connor drive the motorcycle terminators? They don't have handlbars, brakes, or a seat. Right?
7. Why is NOTHING done with Bryce Dallas Howard? Or Helena Bonham-Carter aside from establishing that they're, respectively, pregnant and cancer-ridden?
8. Why the fuck is Star mute? Why make a character mute but not do anything with that trait? Why not write a scene where she was the only one who could warn someone of danger, or where she meets Connor and gives her first line, even a humorous (like in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest's Chief?)
9. Since when is the T-800 so indestuctible? It gets molten metal poured all over it but still manages to function perfectly.
10. Why would SkyNet put Marcus' control chip in a place where A. he somehow knows where it is and what it does, and B. in a location where he can so easily remove it?
11. How did Marcus get healed after infiltrating SkyNet and before receiving the expository monologue by digital Helena Bonham-Carter? And why was he healed? If he was designed to lure Connor to SkyNet (which is FUCKING STUPID...see #'s 3 and 4), then his mission is over. Why heal him up again?

Christ...that's 11 points too many for a film to overcome...sadly it doesn't. There are too many more holes to go on. I'm finished.

Star Trek

Star Trek (2009)


It's been two days since I saw this film with a group of friends, and I'm still surprised that a Star Trek film can be this good. Truly, it's better than it should be (given that it's a sequel/reboot of a moribund franchise whose last entry 7 years ago grossed only about $46 million and is in competition with Wolverine of all movies), and as exciting a summer film as it could be. It's not without its flaws (including gaping plot holes and a script that reads as if it was halfway through a rewrite before the writer's strike hit)...but even then I can't not like the film. There's so much more going for it and working that it's impossible for me to hate it, and that's a credit to everyone involved. I mean, really: a packed theatre for Star Trek? Applause at the end of it? Teenagers and middle-agers sitting together to watch a fucking Star Trek movie? (Although I could have done without the couple sitting behind me and making out every five fucking minutes). It's a credit to everyone involved.
Mostly, it's a credit to director J.J. Abrams, who takes many elements that really shouldn't work (including what I can only describe as an eclectic cast, and the aforementioned script) and somehow makes them work. Adn he doesn't just make them work, he makes them WORK. Like, perfectly and nearly flawlessly. His Mission: Impossble 3 from three years ago marked his first foray into feature filmmaking, but even then he directed as if confined by a small television screen: rewatch that movie and note his directorial choice in scenes that should have been explansive and bombastic, such as the bridge heist, or the raid in Tokyo, or (especially) the climatic fight between Ethan Hunt and Owen Davian. It's all so small for a theatre screen.
Well, he fixes that problem with his second film. This is a Star Trek that feels like it belongs on a theatre screen: the sets are expansive, the sound design booming and rich, the battles epic (on a scale that rival Wrath of Khan), some real emotional heft, planets caving in or exploding, and even a space monster or two thrown in for good measure.



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The true scope of the film reveals itself in the open sequence, where we are introduced to Nero, the Romulan villain from the future (or, in actuality, the late 24th century, which is where the last film took place, thus confirming its place as a "presequelboot"), and his ridiculously massive mining vessel. The U.S.S. Kelvin is sent in to investigate the time time distortion that Nero's time travelling causes, and we learn that Nero is searching for Spock. The Kelvin is attacked and its captain killed, and the second-in-command ---George Kirk--- orders the ship evacuated (along with his wife, who is onboard and going into labor as the attack is carried out). They escape and he flies the Kelvin right into the horrendously more heavily armed Romulan ship.
And right off the bat the film makes its own mark, seperate from everything Trek that went before. It's different in almost every respect. The Federation ships are both dirty and ultra-modern (the engineering sections are dripping with condensation, and cramped, with pipes and tubes shooting all over the place; whereas the bridge is like an Apple Store 20 years from now), and extremely streamlined (and feature odd numbers of nacelles...something Roddenberry always opposed). The battle is less calculated than the one shown in Wrath Of Khan, with each commander trying to outwit the other, but is instead desperate and haphazard, both ships seemingly firing at random. Abrams minutely details the damage: in one instance, the impact of one of Nero's torpedoes is shown from the inside, a corridor suddenly explodes and a crewmember is sucked out, screaming, as the soundtrack suddenly becomes silent and what we hear is Michael Giacchino's beautiful score (seriously, with every film he reaffirms himself as my favorite contemporary film composer. His work on The Incredibles and Speed Racer especially go underappreciated). The opening battle, again, is on a scale unlike anything seen in Star Trek since 1982 (even the battle between half of Starfleet and the Borg in First Contact lasted only a few seconds) and sets the tone of the film.
And that tone? Fun. Fun with a capital "F". While the film has its flaws (which I will get to), every actor is giving their absolute all and enjoying being in the film so much that I can't helped but be charmed by everything that occurs onscreen. Chris Pine, as Jim Kirk, plays the role as the cocky, chauvinistic, self-assured cowboy that he usually is in the best of the original episodes. Gone are the dramatic pauses, the melodramatic gesturing, and the grandiose speeches (not that those are bad; in fact, that's what makes Shatner's interpretation great and fun! But it's 2009, and it's time for a different take on the role). Zachary Quinto's Spock is more emotionally open (to the point of engaging in a relationship with Zoe Saldana's Uhura...a relationship that I not only don't agree with, but which abandons ---nerd alert--- the Vulcan mating ritual of pon farr...unless Spock is 28 in this film...whatever), but, at the same time and quite paradoxically, plays Spock with an almost sociopathic apathy. Spock has always been about repressed emotions, not lack of any at all.
The rest of the cast play their roles better than expected (Karl Urban's McCoy was ABSOLUTELY perfect. If the movie were all about him, I would be fine with that. Seriously, it was as if someone had cryogenically frozen the DeForrest Kelley of the 1950's and placed him in the film. Unending kudos to Urban!) John Cho expands Sulu from a bridge instrument to actually being involved in a major setpiece; Anton Yelchin goes a little overboard with Chekov's accent (although him trying to get the computer to understand him was funny) and leaves me to wonder why a 17 year old Chekov would be in uniform so soon...not only should he not be on the Enterprise at that point, but he would have to be 12 at the time he was accepted to the Starfleet Academy; Uhura gets more lines and action in this film than she did in the entire run of the series; and finally, Simon Pegg's Scotty was perhaps the most fun character (and does manage to save the day at the end), but was played a bit too much for laughs...although, even then, he never loses his dignity. In fact, each character gets their moment to save the day, and each actor expands on the characteristics that made the characters individual to begin with, not merely paying lip service to the original actors.
The other actors fare well with their roles also: Winona Ryder as Spock's mother, Amanda, was barely recognizable (a credit to the old-age makeup), and Bruce Greenwood as Captain Pike made the role his own, and his fate shows that already the established universe is drastically different from what went on before.
However, Eric Bana's Nero, while a fun nemesis...doesn't really have an interesting MO. He's a Romulan space miner. His wife died when Romulus exploded. He's mad at Leonard Nimoy's Spock Prime (which, in reality, is the Spock from the established universe). He accidentally gets sent back in time to 2225 and blows up the Kelvin, which sets off the chain of events that change history. And then, for 25 years...he just...kinda...waits. He doesn't do anything. A friend said, "Well, he's waiting for Spock to show up so he could use the red matter to blow up Vulcan." True. Except he witnessed everything happen from his ship and probably wouldn't know that there was red matter in Spock's vessel. So...what was he doing?
Spock Prime has never been this emotional before. Ever. At least not without the aid of some spores, or Vulcan ritual, or mind control. But this is Leonard Nimoy showing an aged and emotionally conflicted Spock...but a Spock who also just accidentally went back in time. And I'm used to the Star Trek movies dealing with time travel, but in each of the films it was an active move: the characters didn't just go back in time accidentally. That's what occurs here, and that weakens the villain and, therefore, the story.
And the story is what should matter most in a Star Trek film (or any film, for that matter). Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman's script is full of massive plot holes (if Spock went back in time by accident, why does Kirk comment that his "going back and changing history, isn't that cheating?"; is it really plausible that Kirk would be marooned on the same planet and hide in the exact cave where Spock Prime is hiding, and on that same planet Scotty is stationed? And, again, what the hell is Nero doing for 25 years?) Little explanation is given as to how exactly Nero's appearance alters the state of Starfleet technology, why Pike and his crew were hanging out in Iowa, why the destruction of the Kelvin is worthy of the history books (maybe that'd explain the advanced state of Starfleet technology), nor as to why Nero, at the climax, is suddenly so adamant on killing Kirk (for all intents and purposes, Nero shouldn't give a damn). It is as if prior to the destruction of Vulcan Abrams was working on the script's latest draft, and after that scene was forced to use an earlier draft (due to the writer's strike, which occurred midway into shooting).
But, even then, Abrams makes it fucking work! He proves wrong the adage that a film is only as good as its script. Because, well, the script is pretty bad (Scotty's lines, while funny, are wildly out-of-character, especially that "nacelle" line). But what he utilizes in the bad script he makes up for with charm. Even when Scotty gets beamed into a coolant tank in a pointless scene that adds nothing to the story or the character, I still cared about what happened and wanted him to get out okay. Pointless scenes that add nothing of merit at all are still so charming as to not be offensive.

The production design is at once both gorgeous and gritty. The designs of the Federation starships adheres to the desgins of the previous films (saucer sections, nacelles), and the bridge looks like an Apple Store expanded on government scale. He retains the sound design while updating them slightly (the communicator sound; the red alert sound; the transporter energizing effect, the late Majel Barrett Rodeenberry as the computer voice), and they all work flawlessly. The Enterprise looks absolutely gorgeous, almost like what the design would have been in the aborted Star Trek: Phase Two television series from the 1970s. Cool color palettes on the exteriors, and bright lighting for interiors...except for the engineering section, which is dank, foggy, musty, damp, dimly lit, and expansive. I find it wierd that every part of the ship except for engineering would be so absolutely pristine and state-of-the-art.
Abrams did what producer Ronald Moore couldn't do: he made Star Trek fun and popular again. And he did it without alienating the original fans. Gone is the baggage of the original actors; gone is the melodrama and the 40+ years of labyrinthine continuity; gone are the dreary sets (just go back and look at the lighting and color scheme of the Enterprise-E) and costumes; hell, gone is all the metaphysical musings by the characters...this is the Star Trek from 1966: bright colors, bright lighting, lots of sex, comedy, adventure and Fun. The stakes have never been higher (characters are killed that you wouldn't expect; Vulcan is destroyed; Spock Prime is forced to live in the past in order to perpetuate his own species), but that doesn't mean we have to be all dark and gloomy and Dark Knight about it. There's nothing to stop a fun film from having real emotional weight and consequences, and Abrams proves it here.
This is a new Star Trek. Just like Batman is new again. Just as James Bond is new again. But this is a new vision of the future, without the cynicism and gloom. Without the darkness that'll come in tow with next week's release, Terminator Salvation (a film I have absolutely no interest in). Star Trek's ---and Roddenberry's--- vision of a future where people work together to overcome their problems is resonant again.
Goddamn it, Star Trek is back, and I'm here for the ride.

For more on how this new film works despite itself: http://chud.com/articles/articles/19369/1/THE-DEVIN039S-ADVOCATE-WHY-STAR-TREK-WORKS-DESPITE-ITSELF/Page1.html

And how the new film is going to affect prior canon: http://popculturezoo.com/archives/2529