Terminator 2

Before Robert Patrick was Agent Doggett, before James Cameron was the King of the World, and before Arnold Schwarzenegger was forced to do movies like Jingle All the Way to bring in the rent and pay for his legions of high-priced "friends," there was Terminator 2. And, I guess, if you want to be technical about it, before that there was Terminator. But there's no television connection there, so let's just pretend it didn't happen. You know, like Schwarzenegger pretends Last Action Hero didn't happen.

Our story begins in a pleasant children's playground (as opposed to the Devil's Playground, which is an entirely different movie). It's a lovely day, and the children are laughing, but we have a sense of foreboding. Who can say why? Perhaps it's the fact that the children are shot in slow motion. Perhaps it the low rumbling of ominous music. Or maybe it's because we saw this movie ten years ago, so we know that there's about to be a flash of light and a cut to a desolate future where no one's bothered to clean up all these skeletons that litter the landscape like so many cheap attempts to shock us.

It's Los Angeles, 2029 A.D. and there are bumper-to-bumper burnt-out wrecks on the Interstate. This contrasts nicely with the opening shot of the movie, which was bumper-to-bumper normal cars on the Interstate. I would have mentioned that opening shot, but I wanted to get straight to the playground. That's probably a reflex left over from elementary school. The playground in 2029 is also burnt out, and Linda Hamilton's voice, also sounding burnt out, tells us that some large number of people died in a nuclear fire on some date in 1997. Sure, you remember. The nuclear fire? In 1997? Right. And the survivors of this war (which, as you no doubt remember from the newspapers, was called "Judgment Day") lived to fight the machines, which respond to their cue by clunking onscreen and crushing skulls underfoot. There are laser tanks, and walking robots, and generally a lot of laser fire. Things go boom. Then things flip over and go boom. If I were designing a race of robots to battle humanity, I don't think I'd make them quite so flammable.

Linda continues her exposition: a computer (SkyNet) controls the robots, and it sent two Terminators back through time. The first one was supposed to kill her in 1984, but it failed. The second one was supposed to kill her son, John Connor, when he was just a child. Here's a shot of scarface John now, so the implication is that he survived. I guess we can all go home now. Boy, that 156 minutes just flew right by, didn't it?

Oops, wait. My mistake. More exposition. The resistance (led by Adult John) also sent back a Terminator to protect young John. "It was just a question of which one would get to him first," drones Linda, as the camera lingers on a fireball in a shameless attempt to win an Academy Award for Visual Effects. (P.S. -- Mission Accomplished!)

The name of the movie, now that we've arrived at the opening credits, is Terminator 2: Judgment Day, not T2. I blame this movie for the outbreak of abbreviated movie titles, like ID4 for Independence Day and "WWW" for Wild Wild West. Well, I guess I blame Will Smith a little.

When we've exhausted the cinematic possibilities inherent in a screen full of fire, we end up at a parking lot at night. There's lightning and zappy sound effects, heralding the arrival of a naked Arnold Schwarzenegger. He slowly stands up while the orchestra expresses its admiration for his physique, and we see his computer-vision analyzing motorcycles outside a bar. Inside, the pool-playing patrons are startled by Naked Arnold Schwarzenegger, as who wouldn't be? He scowls his way through the bar, analyzing each patron. I know this because the readout on the left side of the screen says "analysis." He finally selects a bearded, cigar-smoking guy, who does not respond well to being told, "I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle." If I could just take a minute here, the cigar-smoking guy was also in Near Dark, where this exact thing happened to him: he was playing pool in a bar, some vampires came in, he mouthed off, and got the thrashing of his life. The last thrashing of his life. Apparently he didn't learn his lesson, because he puts out his cigar on Naked Arnold's chest. Mayhem, inevitably, ensues. Cigar Guy gets his hand broken, someone gets thrown through the window, Cigar Guy gets thrown through a different window to land on the hot stove, a guy with a knife gets his arm broken, and the rest of the bar decides to go find a bar that doesn't have Naked Arnold Schwarzenegger in it. Naked Arnold goes to find Cigar Guy, who is unable to cock his pistol with only one hand. Poor Cigar Guy.

George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone" (which, in 1991, was only "overused," not "horribly overused" like it is today) plays as Arnold walks out of the bar, clad in Presumably-Naked Cigar Guy's leathers. Before he can drive away on Cigar Guy's motorcycle, the bartender shows up with a shotgun. Arnold snatches away the gun and takes the barkeep's sunglasses, for no reason other than general aesthetic coolness. I have to admit, he looks pretty cool. That might be because of the long, loving shots of Arnold Bestride Motorcycle, though.

This might be a good time to share with you a theory I have about this movie. You lucky people. When the movie came out, everyone knew that Arnold was playing the good guy this time. All the commercials went on about it. But I don't think you're supposed to know that in the context of the movie itself. The character, who looks just like the evil Terminator from the first movie, has shown up, crippled several bikers, and is now riding a motorcycle at night, with shades on, while "Bad to the Bone" plays. I submit to you that, at this point, we are intended to think him the bad guy. I'll have more on this as the plot develops. Assuming it does.

Back in the parking lot -- or possibly a different one -- a police car pulls up amid lightning and zappy sound effects. Apparently, there was an "electrical disturbance," which turns out to be code for, "Is it okay if I go off-duty while Naked Robert Patrick kills me and takes my form?" In hardly any time at all, Naked Robert is Officer Patrick in a police car, calling up John Connor's arrest record: trespassing, shoplifting, disturbing the peace, and vandalism. John lives with his legal guardians, one of whom is Vasquez from Aliens. She wants him to clean up his room, but he's working on his motorcycle. Incidentally. I know it's fun to find mistakes in movies and television shows. And I have no objection to it, in its place. However, someone has felt it necessary to complain about the fact that the bike has a four-stroke engine, but the sound effects are those of a two-stroke engine. Well, good job, dude. You found a moment of implausibility in this movie about time-traveling robots. You're a freakin' genius. John Connor listens to Guns 'n' Roses's "You Could Be Mine" (and if you weren't around in 1991, who are you to judge?), has a Public Enemy shirt, hangs out with a mulleted kid in a denim vest, and has hair hanging down in front of his face. Just the sort of kid who trespasses, shoplifts, disturbs peace, and vandalizes. Introducing young Edward Furlong, ladies and gentlemen. Try not to hold Pet Sematary II against him. John gets his foster mother to go away with the cunning stratagem of revving his motorcycle really loud, and now all I can think is, "That's a two-stroke engine sound." I don't even know what a two-stroke engine is. Foster Mom forces Foster Dad to go out and talk to John, but John roars away in a wash of two-stroke engine noises and Guns 'n' Roses. He's a rebel, that kid.

Suddenly, we're in a hospital ("Yeah, we've all been to parties like that") watching Sarah Connor do chin-ups. Dr. Condescension is out in the hall lecturing his patients on Sarah's acute schizo-affective disorder as orderlies drag struggling girls down the hallway. Apparently, Sarah is under the impression that a machine called a Terminator was sent back through time, and you know what? I don't think the good doctor realizes that Sarah already covered this in the opening voice-over. I don't see why a sequel needs a double helping of exposition, but who am I to judge? I don't even have a nifty tweed jacket like Dr. Condescension's. He directs his squad of students to peer at Sarah through the window in the door, but not before he makes fun of her delusions that the first movie happened.