Despite initial appearances, the latest installment in the Terminator saga isn't just for fans. Nor is it simply for males. In fact, during one screening of the film, I actually heard a female viewer cry. Sure, she might have been reacting to some bad news text message, but for that to happen during (arguably) the film's most moving scene would have required an uncanny coincidence. The fact is, Terminator Salvation is incredibly accessible for the fourth film in a series about a war between man and machine.
Having said that, the film does contain plenty of gems for those with ears to hear. There is a great deal of subtle (as well as not-so-subtle) referencing to previous Terminator films that is sure to put smiles on fan faces, and the plot integrates perfectly into the story arc of the series without dropping into boring predictability.
The year is 2018. Fourteen years ago, an artificial intelligence network named Skynet all but completely annihilated humanity. Now, an army of Terminators roam the post-apocalyptic landscape, killing or collecting the survivors, whose only hope lies with the Resistance - small groups of humans who hide in underground bunkers and strike back at their computer overlord when they can.
Fighting on the front line of the Resistance is John Connor (Christian Bale), heralded as a messiah by some but dismissed as a false prophet by others. As with most messianic figures, Connor is frequently at odds with the recognised leadership of the Resistance. "Command wants us to fight like machines - cold and heartless," he laments to his troops. "But if we do that, what's the point?" Clearly this is a war against inhumanity in all of its forms, not just Skynet. Ultimately man's struggle against his own inhumanity is (quite literally) embodied in the character of Marcus Wright (Sam Worthington), a human-machine hybrid whom Connor must decide whether or not to trust.
Marcus’ problems extend further than simply being half-human, half-Terminator. Prior to selling his body (and soul?) to science for the price of a kiss, he was a murderer on death row and, throughout the film, we find Marcus wracked with guilt, believing he is beyond any measure of redemption or second chance. "I'm guilty," he says moments before his execution. "Just cut me up until there's nothing left." But as his plight unfolds, Marcus learns that his dark past cannot be left behind, but redemption is always available for those earnestly desire a second chance.
Indeed, redemption features prominently (and perhaps unsurprisingly so for a film with "salvation" in its title!) alongside several other biblical themes and images that underpin the action: resurrection, substitution and sacrifice to name but a few. C. S. Lewis once said that the story of the Bible is the story of salvation: the story of salvation that our inner selves long to be a part of, and the only story of salvation that can truly satisfy our hearts. Lewis also suggested that when we enjoy other stories of salvation or redemption, it is only because these trigger something deep within us that resonates with a faint memory of that true salvation story, the Bible story. Perhaps it was this, as much as anything, that was behind the tears of that female viewer in the cinema. I like to think so.
