Reading Response 4 - Sensitive Masculinity Replicated and Terminated

While Susan Jeffords argues that the character of the Terminator in Terminator 2 represents the early 1990s shift in perceptions of masculinity by showing a man (or rather man-like machine) that sacrifices himself for his family and chooses to be a “father over a warrior,” she only examines part of the picture –situating the Terminator’s “machine-ness” as a form of imprisonment. However, though the Terminator ultimately “learns the value of human life” and becomes a father-figure for the young John Connor, he still maintains components of his hyper-masculine, killing machine persona. Thus, Jeffords fails to address that the Terminator, and thus what the film is espousing to be an ideal masculinity, resides in two extremes. He is not merely a machine who learns to be protective and loving – the more sensitive male that Jeffords expounds upon. No, it seems that as the Terminator posits it – the ideal male is one who is both a protective father who would die for his family and a machine unable to feel, or at least, display emotion and pain. The Terminator sums it up himself at the conclusion of the film when he tells John, “I know now why you cry, but it’s something I can never do.” Though crying is more a practical matter for the machine, metaphorically, it suggests that it is enough for a man to possess a family and love them enough to understand where deep emotion/feeling comes from, but still he cannot cry. To truly be a man, it is crucial that he not show weakness, and crying has long been problematically associated with femininity and the fragile, “weaker” sex. Furthermore, the Terminator’s way of expressing love for his family is through protecting them in a hyper-masculine sense – with massive machine guns and a determination to permanently eliminate the threat of the T-1000. Therefore, one could argue, in the process of displaying love for his “family,” the Terminator ultimately still reinforces the idea of hard-bodied, macho masculinity. Because, the way for him to express his love is to protect his family from danger, which requires that he shoot people, cause many explosions, and drive a truck through a glass wall to return and retrieve the injured/trapped Connors – all hyper-masculine activities.

Furthermore, though the Terminator is reprogrammed so that he can learn and thus comes to represent a father figure to John, his protective nature is part of his assignment. Though the closeness he develops with John and the human characteristics he takes on – learning slang, how to smile, why humans feel certain emotions – represent a movement to a slightly more sensitive version of the male, ultimately, his role in the family unit as fatherly protector arises from his orders. At his core, he is still an efficient killing (or rather wounding) machine fulfilling his responsibility to protect the young John Connor. The tagline of the film reinforces this point. Jeffords points out that in the early 1990s sequels to the Rambo and Lethal Weapon films, the protagonists refuse to take action until it becomes “personal” with their family/friends involved in some way. However, the tagline for this film was “It’s Nothing Personal,” driving home the point that the Terminator’s actions are not derived from any real personal, human connection, but rather because he has been programmed and ordered to do so.

Though his self-sacrifice and relationship with John seem to suggest a shift in masculinity, they are essentially merely a component of his mission. Indeed, when Sarah waxes poetic on the Terminator as father figure in a chaotic world, she explicitly states, “It would die to protect him.” Sarah fails to see that this fact is not a result of a shift in masculinity towards sensitivity, but rather part of the Terminator’s responsibility to protect John at all costs. And his ultimate sacrifice at the conclusion is still in line with protecting John and by extension, mankind. Ultimately, what seems to suggest a new family-based masculinity merely reinforces the concept of the hard body. At his core, the Terminator is still an unfeeling machine – one who cannot cry and who fulfills his duties using weapons and violence and only takes on a more sensitive, fatherly role because he is ordered to do so.

1) How does Arnold’s current persona and representation of masculinity shape the reading of this film? Does his role as our state governor cause us to read the film differently than audiences, who knew him as a star and body-builder, did in the early 90s?
2) With characters like Ripley, Sarah Connor, and Neytiri (and the other women in Avatar), James Cameron seems to have created a wealth of strong female characters. To what extent do these roles actually present a feminist viewpoint? Do they merely seem to stand for feminist ideals while the film subverts their meaning? How do the different masculinities of the Terminator and Avatar’s Jake affect the readings of these women?
3) Is this type of hard-bodied male action star still relevant today? Most films seem to present an even more sensitized version of the male (Tom Hansen in 500 Days of Summer) or in reverse, a man-child (all of Judd Apatow’s men). Is there still a place for such a star or character like the Terminator? Or does the newest installment in the series, which uses the more sensitive, less bulky Sam Worthington as the human-esque machine suggest otherwise? How do newer action stars like Jason Statham and Vin Diesel enhance and expand upon this hard-bodied masculinity?