The Synergy of Masculine and Feminine in the Terminator Movies

Image Credit: IMDB

The first two Terminator movies serve as an effective meditation on the interplay between masculinity and feminity. People forget that the first Terminator movie, in particular, is a love story between a human soldier from the future and the woman that he's sent back in time to protect from the titular robot assassin. His character evolves as a result of bonding with the woman he first just sees as the target of his mission.

For the first half of the movie, Kyle Reese is acting remarkably like the terminator he’s meant to stop. The only difference between them is that he’s on a mission of protection instead of harm. He treats the woman in his life, Sarah Connor, like an objective because that’s all she is to him at first. He gives commands. He yells at her. He’s cold and insensitive, just like a machine. Function is all that matters to him. That is his whole world before he comes to know her.

Then, somewhere in the course of interacting with her, he starts to see beauty, love, joy, and an intrinsic reason to protect her beyond the all-important mission assigned to him. And you see him smile, maybe for the first time in his life, a man who grew up in a post-apocalyptic warzone. Now, he's enjoying his life for the first time because of her.

Eventually, he shares his vulnerability with her, and she falls in love with and makes love to him for it. They don’t have sex because they're both horny and attractive young people. It's because they feel a deeper connection to each other than either has ever experienced before. Making love to her brings his first true peace and happiness. And immediately after that is the first time we're really seeing him smiling and relaxing in the whole movie, in, again, probably his whole life. As a result of this connection to this woman that he’s been helping grow into someone strong and mature compared to the weak little girl she was at the start, someone capable of taking care of herself and defeating killer robots, he becomes fully human instead of just a soldier on a mission like his metallic counterpart.

The sequel, Judgment Day, is about what happens when women learn to trust men again after having been abused by them. Sarah has a traumatic response to seeing the same terminator model as the one that tried to kill her again. Her body is certain that the same thing will happen again and that she cannot trust him, even though it appears he is now there to help and could be a valuable asset in saving her son’s life. As a result, she ironically adopts the role of cold masculinity once held by the soldier and robot assassin from the future. She is now the one on a mission where feelings and beauty don’t matter. And now, the actual unfeeling robot must develop the capacity to experience beauty through its bonding experiences with the child it was sent to protect, much like Kyle did when Sarah was the target.

The final gesture of the humanized terminator, the iconic thumbs-up he gives as he is lowered into molten steel at the end of the film, is the most human thing he can do and proves that he has evolved beyond his programming. There's no logistical mission-related reason for him to say goodbye to his newfound family in this way. He has already completed his mission and protected his target. But still, he’s using his final moments of operation to say to them, “This is important for you. This emotional gesture represents a human connection I have with you. There is no other reason for me to be doing this right now but to show you that our connection matters to me too. And I’m cherishing it to the end as I stoically embrace oblivion.”

There's a moment, just before this happens, where the music swells, and Sarah looks at the terminator with respect for what he has done and the sacrifice he is about to make. She shakes his hand as yet another important human gesture as if to say, “Good job, soldier. You can rest now.” It’s the most respect she can possibly give him. Before, she just saw him as a terrifying robot. An unfeeling machine. An “it.”  For her to acknowledge him as capable of humanity and see him as an equal, to express gratitude to him for what he has done, and shake his hand like a man is proof that both of them have grown.

You don’t look your printer in the eye and acknowledge it. You don’t shake the hand of a refrigerator to thank it for performing its function. You do that with a man who deserves your respect.