Never Name Your Terminator
I’ve given it a few episodes now, and I think I’m ready to declare Terminator: The Sarah Chronicles good. Really good.
Against all odds they’ve managed to retain the gritty, hard-edged action style of the movies while at the same time adding a more thoughtful, dramatic side to cater to the limited effects budgets and multiple episode requirements of television.
A lot of the credit for it working has to go to Lena Headey, who, I wish had been playing the character all along. No offense to Linda Hamilton, it’s just that unlike Arnold as the Terminator, her performances in the movies simply haven’t aged well.
I do have one question though. Are the scenes with the cops scripted by a different writing team? They seem entirely out of step with the rest of the series, and worse they’re incredibly clumsy. How many times do we have to watch Agent Ellison make some perfectly logical, intelligent point only to be shouted down by the gang of adolescent teens that serve as his colleagues? I’m getting a little sick of that dynamic. We get it, Ellison is on his own. No one believes in him. Now someone feed that blonde chick to this week’s Terminator.
That caveat aside, The Sarah Chronicles is turning out to be not just a great installment in the Terminator franchise, but great sci-fi that attempts to tackle some of the bigger issues raised by rearing a child who already knows his future. If you haven’t already tuned in, hop on iTunes and download the pilot to get started. You’ll need at least that to jump in to what’s currently happening, after all we’re now four episodes in.
I am however left asking one simple question: When did Terminators start getting names? Sarah’s pet Terminator has one. It’s Cameron, and she’s a hottie. It’s never a good idea to name your Terminator, or for that matter ogle it naked. Yes, I’m looking at you John Connor.