When the movie Terminator came out in 1984 (I was still upset that Orwell’s Big Brother prophecy had failed to meet its deadline) I refused to go and see it. Quite frankly it was beneath me. It was yet another big budget blood and guts fest of special effects, tragic dialogue and a lead actor made of wood. Austrian wood. Because Schwarzenegger had been in a few movies, or basically been in the same movie several times before and they were awful. Big guy carries massive gun with bulging muscles and slaughters all who come before him, speaking only when spoken to in ‘boys own’, comic strip action hero bollox. Unworthy of my burgeoning movie snobbery and arthouse fixation. ‘But where’s the meaning????’ ‘What is he REALLY trying to tell us???’ ‘Its just existentialist mumbo-jumbo thinly veiled in the director’s nihilistic vision of dystopia!!’ Fuck I must have been horrible. Plus ca change. Anyway, Terminator? Moi?? Oh dahhhling, you must be having a smirk.

Then I saw it. Some years later. On tv. Where I can put it down to ‘just background noise whilst I’m reading Proust’. Not that I’ve ever read Proust, its just that a pretentious fucker like me should have been reading Proust rather than just doing the (easy) Su Doku in the Standard. But I saw it and it is one of my top 3 (yes 3!!!!, not top 5 or 10, but 3) all time favourites. Its still on tv all the time, and I watch it every time. Even just for 5 minutes.

It simply has it all. It had Arnie, still made of wood, but in the perfect role, as someone made of metal. Briliant casting. He was a frikkin robot, of course he was monosyllabic and expressionless. So easy for Arn. It had Linda Hamilton who I was already in love with (not top 3, perhaps, but certainly top 50, or 500… how many women are there?). And it had more weaponry than American Guns and best of all, the story (a surprisingly good story in such a film) was a time paradox. And I love things that if you think about them long enough can actually make your head explode. If you go back in time and father a son, how does that work for you? There could be two of ‘you’ present? Fathering the son changes your (future) history so you may no longer exist when you go back there (this ‘son’ could kill your mother?). Oh, I love a time paradox. Anyway, I can honsestly say ‘Terminator changed my life’. Not necessarily for the better.

When Terminator 2 came out I refused to see it. Don’t do sequels. Even ones directed by James Cameron. Sorry, its got a ‘number’, it must be shit. Needless to say it wasn’t. It was better than the original and took CGI to another level. Linda had lost some weight, put on some muscle, but still adorable, in a violently insane kind of way. Arnie was Arnie.

Then I watched Kindergarten Cop. Arnie does ‘funny’. In a German, humourless, really unfunny, custard pie in the face kind’a way. And it was awful. Truly tragic. Arnie had tried to portray a human and failed miserably.

And now he’s done it again. At 96 years old (well, he looks it) he has a new film out called Sabotage. In which he commits the twin errors of trying to act as a person and trying to be funny. Even though after numerous surgeries, the three facial muscles that he once employed now no longer function at all. And I simply refuse to see this film. There’s not enough money in the world to make me. (though you could try). No way.

And maybe I’m wrong again? This time though, that’s pretty doubtful.

Hasta la vista, baby

A xxxx