Terminator: SalvationMy friend and I have a rating system that we use for just about anything. To wit: “I love When Harry Met Sally, but it’s no T2.” “These chicken strips are tasty, but they’re no T2.” “You’re my Number One Grandma, but you’re no T2.” It’s kind of mean-spirited and unfair, because obviously anything held up to the magnificent glory of Terminator 2: Judgment Day is going to come off as listless and mundane.

Terminator: Salvation is no exception. It takes place 14 years after Terminator 3 and John Connor is once again trying to save the human race from Skynet’s evil machinations. It’s no T2. It’s no T1, either. It’s debatable whether it’s even worth comparing to T3.

That said, I kind of liked it. Terminator Salvation is, quite clearly, McG’s attempt to be taken seriously. (Here’s a tip, jackass. Don’t go by the moniker "McG".) He went to great lengths to secure Christian Bale’s participation in the film, even ordering script rewrites to focus more on John Connor than on Sam Worthington’s Marcus Wright. Because, sure, Christian Bale’s a serious actor. People take him seriously, and so they’ll take this movie seriously, right?

"The bullshit patty-cake ending made me want to eat a gun."

Yeah, that bit him in the ass a little bit. Not only because of Mr. Bale’s now infamous rant, but because this movie would be a hell of a lot more interesting if it had a lot less Bale and a lot more Worthington. I’m getting pretty tired of the broody, growly Batman shtick, and Bale brings nothing new to the role of John Connor. It’s tremendously odd to me that I prefer Nick Stahl or hell, even Edward Furlong to Christian Bale in this instance, but there you have it.

Sam Worthington is freaking AWESOME in this movie. The character of Marcus Wright is compelling, sexy, hard-core and just cool as hell. He rules. And Anton Yelchin as the young Kyle Reese is really great; this guy looks just like a young Michael Biehn and he’s got his mannerisms and inflections down pat. As for everyone else -- eh, I can take them or leave them (and that includes the great Helena Bonham Carter, who really shouldn’t have wasted her time on this movie).

The real issue here is the script. Terminator Salvation boasts some of the most glaring plot deficiencies in recent cinema. SO MANY THINGS don’t make sense. Even moving past the whole “haven’t these people been living in nuclear winter for 14 years?” problem, there are just so many opportunities to shake your head and say, “Wait, but…whaaa?”

There’s some seriously cool stuff, though. The action sequences? They rock. The gigantic Terminator models that shoot T-motorcycles from their feet? So fun! There are some great chase scenes and the special effects are flawless. Any callback to the previous movies is always going to be a crowd-pleaser, including one pretty significant moment that brought on the cheers and the fist pumps. And I loved hearing Linda Hamilton’s voice on John’s tapes and imagining those bad-ass guns of hers.

Still, the movie commits the egregious sin of having the villain needlessly reveal the master plan in plenty of time for the hero to save the day. Things get worse from there. The bullshit patty-cake ending made me want to eat a gun. Terminator Salvation is definitely entertaining, and any second Sam Worthington was on screen I was absolutely captivated.

Unlike the first two eloquent and stirring Terminator movies though, the only moment I felt a twinge of emotion was for the closing title card which read “In loving memory of Stan Winston.”

Sniff. RIP, homes.