Human Body Parts R Us

*spoiler alert*

I finally went to see Terminator Salvation over the weekend, and found that everything critics were saying about the movie was true. Most critics pointed to its weak plot, which I'll grant was weak, mostly because it was axed in favour of loud explosions.

(Speaking of which, just what were all those Resistance soldiers shooting at in the background during the escape from the compound? If you've got a spotlight on the people you're trying to kill, why is stuff in the background blowing up? Is your aim seriously just that bad? If so, how did you survive against the machines for so long?)

What I am interested in is the final scene, which the filmmakers seem to present in an entirely un-ironic way, but which actually raises some interesting questions that could've re-injected the plot with some life.

The scene I'm talking about of course is the final one where John Connor has been beat about by the Arnold-Terminator (T-800) and is dying because "his heart can't take it". (How cliched!) But aside from cliche, the scene is meant to be a sad one. John's pregnant wife stands next to him, reporting this sad news as his physician to his friends.

Upon hearing this news, the Marcus-Terminator (infiltration model) which has been equipped with the cloned heart and mind of the original, organic Marcus, offers up his heart to John, saying that everyone needs a second chance.

This is where the film loses me.

First, I'm not sure what "second chance" Marcus is referring to. Is he referring to his own second chance, that he has successfully navigated in redeeming his humanity by saving Kyle and John? Or is it John who needs the second chance? And if so, why does he need a second chance? The notion of the second chance is not the same as the notion of another life - the second chance is necessary to correct a wrong done the first time. But in that case, what did John do wrong?

From where I'm sitting, it looks like John did exactly what he needed to do: a) find a way to attack Skynet, b) save Kyle Reese in order to send him back so that he can be conceived. What more does he need to do? He has already fulfilled his destiny.

I leave aside the fact that he is about to become a father himself. While the nuclear family (ha!) narrative is sentimental, frankly, if he were to die, his child would still survive, so he has still been successful there. So since he's provided the military with the tools to beat Skynet and has impregnated his wife, he is in some ways redundant at this point - others *could* take over just fine for him.

Second, and this is probably more important, the transplant itself is problematic. Leaving aside the fact that they are in a battlefield surgery, that there is a need for extensive testing to ensure donor and recipient are compatible, and that heart transplant surgery requires extensive specialized training, the idea of the transplant itself counters the entire message of the film.

The film carefully constructs an antinomy between the organic humans and the mechanical machines and cyborgs. It reifies the natural born human as the ultimate expression of humanity (it's in our face with John's wife's pregnancy), so that this final act of the film seems to fly in the face of what the film has been celebrating the whole time.

In the slap-dash manner that the heart transplant is plotted, the film suggests that humans are just like machines. You get a defective part, you just pop it out, pop in a new one, and you're off to the races again. In some ways, the John (who presumably will survive the transplant, otherwise what's the point of it anyway) at the end of the film will be part cyborg himself. He will have had an artificial organ implanted in his body, making him not much different than the Marcus who has mechanical parts integrated into his.

Unfortunately this movie is not sophisticated enough to make this into some kind of interesting philosophical observation. It really does present the scene in an un-ironic mode. Too bad. There was a lot that could've been done with this idea if they'd just stopped blowing things up (and sentimentalizing family and romantic love) long enough to actually contemplate it.