Rating: D
Dir: Xavier Puslowski
Star: Jeremy London, A Martinez, Paul Logan, Lauren Wals
The Asylum’s ‘mockbusters’ are a mixed bag: some are unashamed clones, yet are solid enough on their own terms (Exorcism: The Possession of Gail Bowers); others go in unexpected directions (Snakes on a Train); however, there are some which are dire efforts, worthy of scorn (King of the Lost World). This is closest to the third category, bringing nothing new to the table. No prizes for guesses what film series this uses as its basis. But, while the Terminator movies each showed progression in the robotic enemies, those that threaten mankind here are strictly beta-test versions – even the T-850 from 25 years seems more indestructible and a bigger threat.
They are unleashed from a space station when the systems go awry, nuking a bunch of cities and unleashing an army of cyborgs on the rest of us. Except, unfortunately, the army is one guy (Logan) in a vest, reproduced through the dubious magic of CGI, with no special powers or abilities apart from banging people about a bit. To describe them as “singularly unimpressive,” would be doing a grave disservice to unimpressive things. Against them are a rag-tag band of humans, led by Kurt (London) and his EMP-pulse gun, the only thing capable of stopping the Terminatoresques – at least, I assume it’s an EMP-pulse gun, but like so much here, this is never explained.
They have to find fuel for a shuttle-craft, go up to the space-station and flick the switch that disables the robots. Literally. It’s a large, wall-mounted switch, helpfully labelled “TR On” and “Off.” There is absolutely no indication that this is to be taken anything other than completely seriously – the same goes for the shot of a supposedly post-apocalyptic landscape, which has cars rolling past in the background, apparently oblivious of the whole apocalypse they are supposedly post. Occasional moments of gloopy gore somewhat enliven proceedings early on, yet there’s little here which the Asylum’s defenders like myself can latch on to. Here, they are guilty as charged, m’lud.