On time travel and terminations

Like so many once-popular franchises, the Terminator series has been dragged, kicking and screaming, back to the big screen.

But time hasn't been kind to the titular machines: Despite John Connor' muddling with the timeline, the robots have all but taken over by the time Terminator: Salvation starts. Their armies swarm the few remaining survivors, led by Christian Bale.

Fans expecting Skynet's forces to be a legion of Arnolds were disappointed. In the future, the machines haven't quite perfected the technology necessary to disguise themselves as humans, so they appear more monstrous than anything, walking chrome skeletons with beady red rat-like eyes. There are other assorted metal baddies, as well, from drones to what appear to be flying squids to everything in between. If you can imagine it whirring and beeping menacingly, it's in there.

So the machines are different now than they were in the '80s, and the question becomes why. The original Terminator reflects a more internally-focused fear than Salvation. The Terminator induced anxiety because he could be sitting right next to you in the theater. He looked like a person--a big, menacing hulk, sure, but a person nonetheless. There was just something off about him. He moved slowly, deliberately. He had trouble processing and understanding emotions, and his superhuman strength meant that little to nothing stood any chance of getting in his way. Under his flesh was synthetic blood and glistening silver. He was scary because he was just barely not human, standing at the threshold of difference.

But the machines in Salvation are boldly, brazenly different. They only resemble humans in basic structure and in bloodlust. But their difference can be seen from miles away. There is not a single threatening machine. Instead, they travel in legions, in hordes, leaving death and destruction in their wake as they slowly work towards the last surviving bastion of humanity. They do this because they represent a different kind of fear. This is the fear of others. Other cultures, other 'people,' other values, groups who appear uncivilized or medieval. Those who would threaten the American way of life. Not from within, but from the outside.

In post-9/11 America, we fear the outside. It is something that is ready to invade us and bomb our homes. Outsiders close in on us, and a successful invasion would have apocalyptic ramifications. Out paranoia and anxiety is no longer inwardly focused. Rather, our attention is squarely set on others. We're not interested in machines that pretend to be like us as much as we're interested on machines that are so vastly separated from humanity.