Terminator Salvation

In the build up to the release of Terminator 3, James Cameron proclaimed the series to be “so last century”. T3 just about worked, but this stale instalment runs like an Uwe Boll film with a budget. The whole thing proves two things: that Cameron was so right; and that McG should be barred from ever sitting in a director’s chair. Ditching the horrendous Charlie’s Angels hyperactive aesthetic, he proves equally inept when adhering to film grammar. The performances are uncharacteristically weak, there is no atmosphere or even humour, and the action is boring and clumsily staged. Anyone who suffered Superman Returns or Sex and the City will know that sequels are often afterthoughts, desperately recycling ideas and contriving conflicts for characters whose arcs have been fulfilled. This film’s pointless, drawn out story does exactly that, cynically playing the nostalgia card in the hope of more receipts and more sequels. Say “Hasta la vista baby” to this franchise.