Considering that Terminator Salvation is based on such solid ground, I’m sad to say that the film is otherwise a reeking disappointment.  And that’s a shame: I like a good summer blockbuster, and the first two Terminator films had a lot going for them.  The basic concept of the franchise has always packed a mighty punch: computers take over the world, and all hope rests on a man whose father was sent back in time from an apocalyptic future with an android assassin on his tail.  That alone was plenty to make the first film work, and the second improved on it with the premise that this time the android assassin is a good guy.  Third outing, I have no idea: I saw the film that was called Terminator 3, but the fact that I can provide no pithy description tells you all you need to know.  And now we have the fourth in the series.

The solid ground the film is based on is that its protagonist is an android who believes he is a man.  This science fiction staple can produce wonders, as the writing of Philip K Dick testifies: it was an idea he used on more than one occasion.  This time the android is a man (played by Sam Worthington) who starts the story in 2003 as a condemned prisoner, before coming to 15 years later to find the planet kneedeep in killer robots.  Naturally, he takes up arms against them, and is soon immersed in the human race’s last stand against the metal tyrants.  All of which sounds like great fun, so how come the film just…isn’t?

Fundamental problem is that they didn’t spend enough time on the story, instead hoping that by filling the screens with things that go thud thud thud and blam blam blam and skeeow skeeow, audiences would forget the need for narrative and leave satisfied.  Only, it doesn’t work like that.  The effect is like watching someone else play a computer game: they certainly seem to be having a hellacious time, but they’ve had the console for over an hour now and you aren’t getting a look-in.

Actually, even as a computer game it doesn’t work that well, since there’s precious little in the sense of raising stakes.  Sam, and buddy John Connor (Christian Bale) are variously shot at, tossed around, run through explosions and so forth, but it’s an empty sort of experience given how sketchy the story is.  Past glories are called up, but frankly the effect of a genital-free CGI Arnie, complete with theme music from his earlier appearances, is risible.  What is there about Arnie’s schlong that we need to be protected from it?

But perhaps we were asking too much of director McG to deliver not only a compelling narrative but a suitably mighty cock for the Governator.  Bold decisions are needed sometimes.  I’m told that Lara Croft owes her distinctive curves to the comment from the director of the games company that her tits should be 50% bigger.  I like to think that McG didn’t waver when it came to the dimension’s of Arnie’s unit, and went supersize — only for some prissy type to demand that his penis remain unseen.

Yes, things are that bad: I’ve spent two paragraphs on a virtual Arnie’s endowment because the film is so void of anything to say.  It basically trundles along at high speed, its protagonists encountering first one then another and another robotic obstacle, all the while blaring out a noisy soundtrack, presumably to drown out any inner voices concerned about exactly what the hell is going on and wondering why they’re not engaged by what’s happening in front of them.  And, well, that’s just not good enough.