IGN Presents the History of Terminator
Before Salvation, take a look back at the movies, games, and television shows.
by Travis Fahs May 20, 2009 - 
Terminator is the sci-fi series for the rest of us. While fans of Star Trek and Star Wars baffle those around them with esoteric discussions of a richly detailed universe only hinted at on-screen, Terminator delivers pure entertainment, strong characters, and leaves its messy back story to the imagination. Bone-crunching action, tense car chases, and big explosions made James Cameron's movies the kind of experience we could all get into.
Since the first two films, the series has bled into nearly every other entertainment medium, including TV, games, comics, and novels. The powerful imagery and small nuggets of story in the movies alone were potent enough to inspire people to explore in every format possible. Not everyone's vision of post-apocalyptic Los Angeles is the same, but they all share a common language: a solemn, foreboding tone, a desperate fight for survival and love of truly intense action.
Sleeping Giant
No one ever knew The Terminator was going to be a hit. From the moment it was conceived, it was meant to be a low-budget, down-and-dirty action flick, not the kind of movie we'd still be talking about 25 years later. James Cameron is now known as one of the masters of popcorn cinema, but in the early '80s, he was still a complete unknown. He had spent many years working crew and designing special effects for films, learning everything he could about the craft, but the only directorial work it had gotten him was a low-budget Italian horror movie, Piranha II.
It was during that nightmarish production, with an underfunded crew that spoke little-to-no English, that an image of a robotic skeleton came to him in the dream. Frightening and provocative, he knew right away that he was on to something. Of course, Cameron was a realist, and he knew a movie set in the future would be too expensive to produce, especially for an unproven director. He started brainstorming ways that his robot could make his way to the present, and the story grew from there. Before long, his first full-length screenplay was underway. 
For inspiration, he drew on two stories from science fiction legend Harlan Ellison written for The Outer Limits. The first was Demon with a Glass Hand, an episode about Trent, a man in the present who finds himself hunted by aliens from the future, modified to look human. After Trent captures one of the aliens, he learns that they're hunting him because, in the future, he is the last hope of humanity. The second episode, Soldier, told the story of two enemy warriors from the future that find their way to the present and engage in a game of hunter-hunted. Cameron has been honest about the influence, but the borrowing later led to a minor legal debacle that was settled out of court. 
Merging aspects of the two with existential themes from 2001: A Space Odyssey and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, he imagined his robotic skeleton inside of human flesh, sent by a sentient computer to destroy John Connor, the man who would one day lead mankind to victory, before he was born. Sarah Connor, John's future mother, plays the damsel in distress. Kyle Reese takes on the role of hero, a man sent from the year 2029 to protect humanity's future.
When James Cameron wrote the script - his first feature length screenplay - he was barely making ends meet, even living in his car for a time. Cameron wanted to direct, and he knew that this screenplay was his best ticket. Of course, his stipulation to direct the film was also the biggest burden to sell to producers. The production companies he met with liked his script, but none of them were too keen on handing the camera over to someone with so little real experience. In the end, he sold his script to producer Gale Anne Hurd for one dollar - but the director's chair was his. 
In 1983, pre-production and casting began. Cameron needed to find the right man to play his infiltrator. He initially wanted Lance Henriksen, who worked with Cameron in Piranha II, to play an "everyman" Terminator that could blend in with the crowd. O. J. Simpson was considered briefly, but producers felt he seemed too nice to play a killer. It wasn't until Arnold Schwarzenegger auditioned for the role of Kyle Reese that they found their unstoppable machine.
The Austrian bodybuilder's appearance was intimidating to say the least. His two previous starring roles, Conan the Barbarian and Hercules in New York, cast him as the strong, silent hulk, and the vision made sense for the quiet, physically demanding role. Arnold may not have been a well-developed actor at that point, but his screen presence couldn't be denied. Arnold's attachment to the Conan series delayed the production of Terminator until 1984, but the boost to his star power made it worth the wait. 
With the budget fairly low at $5 to $6 million, the producers kept their distance creatively, suggesting only that Cameron develop a romantic relationship between Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese -- a request he willingly obliged. Cameron's experience working on special effects helped to ensure the shoot went smoothly, and it wasn't until the post-production phase that he had to fight any real battles. While editing the film, producer John Daly asked him to remove the movie's fiery climax in the factory -- the final revelation of the terrifying endoskeleton bathed in flames. Cameron recalls, "I told him straight, 'F*** you! The film isn't over yet." Luckily for us, he eventually won the battle.
The Terminator released a few days before Halloween in 1984. The film's distributor, didn't expect it to last more than a couple weeks at the box office. By its third week, it had grossed over $11 million, but still no one ramped up advertising. Despite the lack of support, it would go on to earn over $78 million internationally, placing it among the top 20 grossing movies of the year. It was a far cry from the year's biggest blockbusters like Ghostbusters, Beverly Hills Cop, and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, but it was the biggest low-budget sleeper hit the industry had seen in some time. James Cameron would never have to struggle to get work again.
He Said He'd be Back
In this age of pre-planned trilogies, it's hard to imagine any movie studio sitting on a successful property without bleeding it dry as quickly as possible, but Terminator was a product of a different era. It wasn't until the filmmaking medium grew that Cameron was inspired to revisit the story. With computer animation finally achieving new levels of realism, ideas that would have once been impossible to shoot were finally within reach. In 1989, James Cameron worked with the computer effects masters at Industrial Light & Magic, and the experienced opened his eyes to just what kinds of concepts could be realized. 
By 1990, Arnold Schwarzenegger was no longer a body builder trying to cross over. He had become a full-blown action hero, starring in hits like Commando, Predator, and Total Recall. Not long after, he decided to move to more family-friendly roles, starring in the PG-13 comedy, Kindergarten Cop. Playing a cold-blooded killer robot didn't suit him any longer, and his demands were steep. In exchange for taking the part, he wanted the role to be reworked so it included no killing - not a small request for a character called "the Terminator." He also negotiated a $15 million paycheck (that's more than $20,000 per word spoken), and earned a Gulfstream III airplane, worth an estimated $14 million, as a signing bonus. For a lesser star it wouldn't even be considered, but Arnold earns his keep. 
James Cameron wrote Schwarzenegger's part around his demands, casting him as a reprogrammed Terminator sent to protect a young John Connor. Steely and remorseless as ever, John had to teach his new body guard not to kill humans, satisfying Schwarzenegger's demands for the part. Of course with the nearly unstoppable T-800 on the side of good, T2 needed a truly terrifying villain. Cameron returned to his original idea of an everyman Terminator that could blend into a crowd and asked, "What if the Terminator could be anyone at any time?" 
Enter the T-1000. Cameron's new killer was a shape-shifting being of "liquid metal" that could transform into anyone or anything he touched of roughly equal size. This fluid being wasn't just a chance to show off some dazzling morphing and CGI, it was a concept that simply couldn't be done convincingly on screen before. Industrial Light and Magic would get a $5 million budget to bring the T-1000 to life.
Today's trailers have evolved into Cliff Notes versions of movies that divulge the whole plot in months before the movie is out, but Cameron wanted to keep his secret weapon quiet. Strict non-disclosure agreements ensured that nobody would know about the T-1000's abilities until very close the movie's release. Instead, they produced a teaser of original footage showing only a newly minted T-800 and Arnold uttering his signature catchphrase, "I'll be back."
While T2 was all about action, the story's distance from the first film gave Cameron a chance to explore his characters' development over the course of a decade. Sarah Connor, once a naïve teenage waitress, had hardened herself into a soldier in order to train her son, eventually landing herself in a mental institution for her perceived paranoia. John had grown into a rebellious preteen who had yet to show any glimmer of his future self. Rather than a forced romantic subplot, T2 imbued the action with more meaning by showing the characters' struggles to come to terms with their fate while still trying to change it. 
By the time the movie wrapped, the $65 million budget had, much to the chagrin of the producers, ballooned to over $100 million, making it the most expensive film ever produced at that point. While Terminator 1 was a low-risk venture, the studios had a lot riding on this sequel, and they wouldn't make the mistake of under-marketing a Terminator movie this time. Even before the movie started filming, rights to toys, games, and all manner of merchandise were doled out to the highest bidder, and advertising ran seemingly non-stop. 
It was worth the hype. Its opening weekend brought in $52 million, more than the original movie made domestically in its entire run. Critical praise was nearly universal, and the Academy awarded it four Oscars and six nominations when its predecessor hadn't even gotten one. It was the quintessential summer blockbuster, raking in more than a half-billion dollars, and even spurring a revived interest in the 1984 original. James Cameron was the new king of summer cinema.
You might expect that a sequel, cartoon series, and musical variety show would have followed next, but Cameron wanted to leave the series alone. He even toyed with the idea of a scene that showed a happier future for humanity, but felt it undermined the movie's tone. Terminator 2 left the series on a high note, and its creator was content to leave it that way... for a while. 
The Magic Number Three 
It's hard to walk away from something as big as Terminator 2. James Cameron toyed with the idea of a sequel for years, but ultimately felt he had finished telling his story. It didn't matter; Terminator 3 had to happen eventually. There was simply too much demand to ignore.
Cameron never produced a script or a solid story for the third Terminator, and he ultimately wouldn't take an active role with the project at all. Without the series' creator at the helm, Schwarzenegger wasn't interested, either. Eventually, with Cameron's blessing, Arnold gave in - to the tune of $30 million. With their signature star in place, the movie could finally move forward. 
It was 2002 by the time T3 went into full production - more than a decade since the last movie. Jonathan Mostow was chosen to direct, and John Brancato and Michael Ferris adapted an earlier screenplay by Tedi Sarafian. Borrowing ideas from Terminator novels, they decided pick up eight years later, in a world in which Judgment Day had been postponed, but not prevented. They also minted a new Terminator, the liquid metal/endoskeleton hybrid that took the form of a femme fatale played by Kristanna Loken. Loken's T-X wasn't as terrifying as Arnold or Robert Patrick's robotic assassins, but her sex appeal was undeniable. 
John Connor was re-imagined as a 20-something drifter (his age was changed from the original story) who had lost his way after the death of his mother. He showed none of the drive and ambition hinted at in the end of Terminator 2, spending his life hiding from the future he hoped he had prevented, even long after the original date of Judgment Day came and went. When a new T-800 arrives to protect him, he learns that the machines' rise is inevitable, and that the T-X has been sent to kill any and all members of the future resistance.
Dedicated fans noticed that the story was riddled with continuity conflicts. John Connor's birth date had drifted three years earlier, and Sarah Connor's six years. Even worse, it mangled its own continuity, detailing a three year struggle that occurred sometime between the events of Terminator 2 (1995) and 1997. While the ideas in the story were interesting, and the film does its best to set up a future for the series, any new Terminator stories would have to choose which canon to accept.
The production spared no expense, using computer graphics not just for morphing effects, but fights, stunts, and seemingly everything else. The budget eventually totaled just shy of $200 million, making it the most expensive independent film ever produced. Given the series' legacy, it seemed like a sound investment, but it seems that the Terminator franchise is not the unstoppable machine its producers hoped it would be. 
Reviews of the movie were tepid at best and grew increasingly negative over time. Most agreed the action and effects were thrilling, but reviews were far more divided on the story, while others found the whole experience simply unnecessary. For the first time, a Terminator movie had failed to make back its budget domestically, earning only $150 million in the US. The worldwide gross brought the total over $400 million, but weighed against the advertising budget and the theater's cut, the movie was barely a financial success at all. It seemed the series would end as an even trilogy. 
Redemption on the Small Screen
When Fox announced it would be producing a pilot for a Terminator TV show in 2005, few among the hardcore fans had high hopes. If the $200 million Terminator 3 failed to revive the series, what chance did a TV serial have? Even within the movie trilogy, the story had grown formulaic, and many feared the show would slip into the same repetitive plotlines. Little did they know, The Sarah Connor Chronicles would prove to be the franchise's most complex story yet. 
Josh Friedman was chosen to write and produce the series, and while his screen credits were hardly legendary, his vision for the Terminator series was ambitious. It packed plenty of action and obvious sex appeal (in the form of the young starlet Summer Glau), but refused to underestimate audiences with mindless excuses for carnage. Ditching the problematic continuity of Terminator 3 as well as the story planned for Salvation, The Sarah Connor Chronicles picks up in 1999 when a teenage John Connor and a thirty-something Sarah are brought to the year 2007 by a young female Terminator, whom they call Cameron.
It was the first time the Terminator series ever featured a forward leap in time, complicating the show's science somewhat. The original movie hinted at self-fulfilling actions and cyclical time, but the sequels blew this apart by showing a changing future. To handle the constant time events that would occur in the series, the writers had to solidify its rules. Interestingly, what they came up with actually reflects the way some theoretical physicists believe time travel would really work.
According to these rules, a subject's past is fixed. He can travel backward into his own timeline, but as soon as he does so, his presence will have created an alternate branch of time. Thus, any travelers from the future that arrive in the present will arrive from the future of that timeline assuming no interference from further time events. New arrivals always come from the "new" future, just as in the movies. In this way, the Connors' past never changes, but their fight for the future remains meaningful. Characters that appear later on in timeline have subtly or dramatically different experiences than those who appeared earlier. The irony of this model is that Skynet's attempts to change the past are completely futile within its own reality. The original Skynet from the first film will always lose the war, even if it creates an alternate timeline where it wins. 
By the time the Connors reach 2007, the future of time travel has exploded from a handful of lone operatives to an all-out espionage war. Terminators are sent back not only to assassinate John, but to secure assets needed for Skynet's war and to destroy anything or anyone that will aid the human resistance. Meanwhile, human resistance fighters and reprogrammed Terminators are fighting the good fight. The Connors remain as far off the grid as they can manage while still trying to keep tabs on what both sides are doing. 
By the second season, the plot had grown more ambitious, exploring some of the existential themes only hinted at in the movies. Cameron was becoming increasingly self-aware, wrestling with her own programming and actually making decisions by force of will. Meanwhile, we are introduced to John Henry, the world's first sentient computer, presumed to be the future Skynet. John Henry grows like a child, learning about life and death, imagination, and even playing games and telling jokes. It's the first time the series ever dared to explore the mind of a computer in such a human way.
Despite an increasingly provocative storyline and positive reviews, ratings for the show slowly declined, perhaps due to the heavily serial plotline alienating new viewers. Given the show's high budget and TV's current struggles with weak advertising dollars, Fox decided to cancel the show -- just the latest in a long line of acclaimed shows the network has buried early. Even with a new movie around the corner, Fox didn't see a future for the Terminator series.
Saved 
In typical Hollywood fashion, the fourth Terminator film was being planned even before the third had entered production. A script was penned detailing the events immediately after T3, showing the gruesome details of Judgment Day. Creative differences kept the project in constant deadlock for years, and it wasn't until Halcyon Company picked up the rights in 2007 that the next chapter began to take shape.
Terminator Salvation was planned as a new beginning for the series as much as a continuation. Moving into the future long used as the series' back story, it shows the rise of John Connor as a leader and as a symbol for mankind, alongside the birth of the Terminators and the war that ensues. By moving the series into the post-Judgment Day world, director McG hoped to step out of the shadow of the original trilogy and create a movie that can stand on its own merits as a post-apocalyptic sci-fi epic.
The series needs a savior. Terminator 3 left many feeling apathetic toward the prospect of another movie, let alone a trilogy. Halcyon has successfully gotten the hype train rolling again, and we're all on board once again, but if Salvation ends in disappointment, it will really be a heavy blow to the series. One disappointing sequel is bump in the road, but two can bring even the mighty Terminator to its knees. Don't let us down.
Digital Domain
Movie licenses and videogames have had a strained relationship over the years. Star Wars, Disney cartoons, and an elite handful of others have been met with great success, while most others buckle under the challenges of bringing someone else's vision to an alien medium on a tight schedule. The Terminator franchise has seen its share of both, with titles ranging from fantastic and even important, to downright terrible, and everywhere in between.
With over twenty games to its name, the series had an interesting trajectory, with games that launched storied careers, and others that are better not revisited. The over-the-top action and compelling sci-fi universe make the transition to gaming seem natural, but even the T-800 isn't immune the ever-present plague of short deadlines and weak developers. 
The successes and failures of the series tell a tale about the industry itself and its approach to licensed material. Bethesda, who maintained the franchise on PCs for years, tried their best to nurture a fan base, building on previous games when appropriate. On the consoles, the series was put through a revolving door parade of developers who churned out games with a slash-and-burn strategy, caring little if fans ever bought another Terminator game again.
Right Game, Wrong Time
James Cameron's original movie arrived at one of the darkest moments in gaming history, alongside the crash of Atari and the rapid decline of the console market. In the wake of E.T., the industry was no longer naïve enough to think a movie license could be their savior, let alone an R-rated action flick. It wasn't until 1990 that anyone tried to bring Kyle Reese's story to the interactive medium. A small developer in Maryland named Bethesda Softworks picked up the license, just a year shy of the massive resurgence in interest brought about by the blockbuster sequel, T2.
Despite the unusual timing, Bethesda's interpretation is a significant game in its own right. Throughout the '80s, free-roaming "sandbox" action-adventure games had remained a predominantly European school of design, outside of a small handful of American space sims like Echelon. Danish programmer Julian Lefay joined Bethesda in the late '80s, and brought with him this design philosophy. It wasn't until Grand Theft Auto III that American companies truly started copying the Europeans, but Bethesda's Terminator was way ahead of the curve.
Bethesda's title didn't have any discrete levels, routes, or missions. Instead, you played either Kyle Reese or the T-800 and were given the sole objective of saving or killing Sarah Connor by any means available. Players had a sprawling 60 square mile city to traverse, loosely modeled after the real Los Angeles. The streets and buildings were fully 3D, coded from the ground up with a highly optimized 3D engine that allowed for free exploration without load times. Freedom wasn't just limited to movement, either. Equipment could be purchased or stolen, and carjacking made travel more interesting. It was a visionary window into a genre that wouldn't become popular for over a decade.
Lefay's design also pulled elements from the first-person shooter genre, a year before id Software made their first attempt with Hovertank 3D, and two years before the breakthrough success of Wolfenstein 3D. While it's difficult to say that it innovated any one particular convention, the style runs completely against the grain of American computer games of the day, and the carjacking even foreshadowed the popular British game Hunter, which has been called a precursor to GTA. The Terminator game was, like the original film, only a modest success, far overshadowed by more timely games in the series, but it was the start of something. After The Terminator, Julian Lefay continued his exploration into the world of free-roaming game design with an RPG called Arena, the first in the line of Elder Scrolls games that would eventually make Bethesda the name that they are today.
Judgment Day Arrives
The first Terminator movie was a sleeper hit, but it wasn't until Terminator 2 that Arnold's character became truly iconic. As soon as it went into production, every available tie-in was scooped up, from toys, to comics, to novels, all hoping to get just a taste of the summer blockbuster's success. Midway locked down the arcade and pinball license, while Acclaim (and their Flying Edge and LJN brands) got dibs on the home versions. Ocean was brought on to develop the computer versions, and the NES, Game Boy, and Genesis each got their own unique games, developed by B.I.T.S. and Software Creations. The result was a fractured blitz of different games with the same title, all vying for consumer dollars. Anyone hoping to get the same game on a different platform was out of luck. 
Midway landed their deal first, securing the rights before the movie had even begun filming. The team got an unprecedented amount of access to the movie itself, getting glimpses of scenes and designs that didn't even make it into the final cut of the movie. It took a great deal of trust and some tight contracts, given the amount of secrecy surrounding Terminator 2's story - particularly the shape-shifting T-1000. 
The game itself was a pretty ordinary mounted-gun rail shooter, very similar to Namco's Steel Gunner, released a year earlier. What helped T2 to stand out were the eye-popping 16-bit graphics, which made extensive use of digitized actors and models, a year before Mortal Kombat made Midway famous for the technique. When it released in the fall, it quickly proved to be a top earner at arcades around the country. It was so successful that they ported the game to nearly every platform available under the name T2: The Arcade Game, further confusing shoppers everywhere. While it wasn't a refined or innovative game, it's generally remembered more fondly than the other T2 cash-ins.
Acclaim and LJN had quite a reputation for licensed shovelware, and Terminator was no exception to the rule. In the fall of 1991 they rolled out their first two titles, one for the Game Boy and one for the NES. The handheld release was a largely forgettable effort that did its job without drawing much attention. The higher profile NES outing overshadowed it with a game that was, unfortunately, mediocre at best. It was a side-scrolling beat-'em-up with some light platform elements that did little to make it worth remembering. Awkward jumping and frustrating collision stripped the game of what little fun it had. The license alone was enough to carry the game to success, and Acclaim knew it. The following year, the title was ported to the Game Gear and Sega Master System with upgraded visuals and the same crummy gameplay. 
At about the same time the T-800 was infiltrating the NES and arcades, Ocean was shipping their own interpretation for PC, Atari ST, Amiga, Commodore 64, Spectrum, and Amstrad computers. Truly, it seemed anyone who wanted a Terminator game could find at least one for their system of choice. Ocean's game looked enticing, particularly on 16-bit systems. The large, detailed, beautifully animated sprites were nothing if not eye-catching. If only the gameplay had gotten the same amount of attention, Ocean could have had a classic on their hands. The clunky gameplay hopped between genres, starting with some truly dismal one-on-one fighting before shifting to driving and shooting stages. Upon its release, it was thrashed by critics almost universally, with the notable exception of the British magazine Zzap!, who took a shine to the Commodore 64 version.
While Acclaim held the console license for Terminator 2, Virgin seized an opportunity to cash in on the Genesis by licensing the rights to the first Terminator movie. It wasn't as timely as the 8-bit versions, but with Acclaim's 16-bit versions more than a year away, the demand was there. Kyle Reese was revived to tell his tale once more, this time in the form of a side-scrolling run-'n'-gun. Probe was chosen to develop, and the project was headed up by a young programmer named Dave Perry. Most of you probably know Perry for his later work on Aladdin (Genesis), Cool Spot, and the Earthworm Jim series, but don't expect to see any early glimpses of genius here. With endless waves of constantly respawing enemies throwing themselves mindlessly at Kyle from every direction, Probe's Terminator was an exercise in tedium.
Blood from a Stone
Generally, movie tie-ins go away after a few months, and it's clear that the companies churning out T2 games on short schedules did nothing to anticipate any future demand, but Terminator 2 was quite simply the biggest movie in years, and the fans were hungry for more. Developers continued plundering both movies well into 1993.
Mindscape and Radical Entertainment joined forces to dole out another dish on NES, this time based on the original 1984 movie. It boasted large, detailed sprites, solid controls, and kept true to a proven genre formula. This was marred somewhat by the goofy animation and poor collision detection, but after a few let downs, it got the job done. While nothing to write home about, it at least felt like a finished game.
Still holding on to the T2 license, Acclaim tapped the developers of their successful Game Boy release to have a go at the two leading 16-bit platforms. Schwarzenegger arrived on Genesis and Super Nintendo with a side-scrolling action game that stands as one of the very worst titles of its generation. Tiny sprites devoid of personality dotted the sparse, non-linear stages, and Arnold's fighting looked even too robotic for a robot (ahem, cyborg). It did at least boast a few adventure elements that helped distinguish the game from the rest of its genre, but it simply wasn't fun, and it certainly didn't leave owners of the more powerful 16-bit systems feeling like they got the better game. 
By 1993, things had cooled down a bit, but a few platforms had been left uninfected. Mindscape decided to go 16-bit with an original SNES version based on the first film. Unlike the NES version, this was a more straightforward Contra-style shooter, but thematically it was the same old game. By now, the series had been bled dry of creativity and all the games were starting to look the same. Virgin took one more crack at it with a new Sega CD version. This used a heavily modified version of Perry's engine, but it was an entirely new game, boasting some impressive animation, FMV movie clips, and a rockin' soundtrack. It was arguably the best of the bunch, and certainly a major improvement over their last attempt, but by 1993, the series had just grown tired.
What do you do when your series running out steam? Cross over.
Virgin decided to try again, but this time, they'd pit two '80s action movie icons against each other in Robocop Versus the Terminator. The man trapped in metal would finally square off against the metal wrapped in a man. It may have been a tacky ploy, but something about it worked. The Genesis game came first, and in the spirit of the original movies, it was a fast-paced, gory explosion of action. Everyone's favorite law enforcement cyborg earned the starring role, and boasted a truly impressive array of weapons. It was solid, mindless fun, and unlike most of the games before it, earned some very positive press from popular magazines like EGM (7.8/10) and GamePro (4.5/5).
Soon after, the Super NES got its own version, with the help of Interplay. While seemingly a very similar design, the Super Nintendo release was a different game entirely, with larger sprites, subtle lighting effects, and a slick comic book-inspired presentation. But, playing almost perfectly into stereotypes about the system's supposed shortcomings, the bloody violence was stripped away, and the whole game was plagued with slowdown. Critics were not impressed by the superficial merits, and reviews on the SNES were less enthusiastic.
The Terminator franchise had finally run its course on consoles. After 1993, the series would take a long, much-needed break, much like the movie series it spawned from. Fortunately, there was at least one company that cared about keeping Terminator alive.
Meanwhile at Bethesda
Bethesda held the Terminator license longer than anyone, releasing new games from 1990 until 1996. Instead of burning out fans with well-timed cash runs, they tried to build a series of forward-thinking first-person action games that would be known as much for their creative gameplay as the iconic endoskeletons on the covers. After their first game, they opted to completely abandon the movie's storyline and characters, and instead explored the post-apocalyptic future that served as the films' back story (or front story, as it were). Kyle Reese, Sarah Connor, and even Arnold's T-800 were nowhere to be found in Bethesda's games, and they still managed to be the best titles to bear the name. 
Their sophomore effort, released in 1992, took a very different format than the free-form series debut, with a mission-based action-adventure game called Terminator 2029. The project was once again headed up by Julian Lefay, this time working with Vijay Laksmir, with whom he would later craft the Elder Scrolls games. While the first-person perspective survived, real-time 3D graphics were sacrificed in favor of greater detail. The game was moved to a grid-based system much like first-person dungeon crawler RPGs, but the gameplay was far from a role-playing experience.
Instead, Terminator 2029 blended real-time action with a strategic approach, casting players as a lone soldier serving under John Connor in the war against the machines. Planning a route of attack was the most important key to success, but sharp shooting also played a role. Much like the first game, it defied any clear genre definitions of the day, but audiences connected with it anyway. The following year they released an expansion pack called Operation Scour, and later still an enhanced CD-ROM version shipped with full voice acting.
2029 remains the oddball in the series, arriving just as id Software was completely changing the PC game market forever. 1992's Wolfenstein 3-D was simply the most visually stunning game on the market. Within months, clones were starting to pop up, and a new genre was born. Bethesda had a new vision for their next game, and the series would never turn back. 
Terminator: Rampage arrived late in 1993, and for a very brief moment in time, it was the most advanced first person shooter ever released. With fully texture-mapped floors and ceilings, diagonal walls, and full-screen graphics, it blew away the Wolfenstein games, and imitators like Ken's Labyrinth and Blake Stone. It was also the first in this infant genre of id-inspired shooters to boast levels made to look like real places - in this case a large Cyberdyne office complex.
Not content to simply ape Wolfenstein, Bethesda took a somewhat different approach with Rampage's gameplay. While the basics of moving and shooting were the same, the large, sprawling stages were full of subtle details that begged to be explored. Taking an approach more similar to the later Duke Nukem 3D, it had many details like rows of offices and bathrooms with individually opening stalls that helped to lend credibility to the game world, instead of having players hunt for conspicuously colored keys. The world was continuous, as well, allowing for -- and even requiring -- free travel back and forth between the different floors. 
Innovation does not automatically make a game great, and for all its merits, Rampage was a flawed game. The steep system requirements and complex, confusing level design were among the most frequent complaints voiced by critics. The biggest blow to Bethesda's game came soon after its release. Id Software released Doom, their highly anticipated follow-up to Wolfenstein. The gaming landscape was changed overnight, and Rampage couldn't quite keep up. Bethesda would have to make sure that their next game wouldn't be so easily bested.
The series fell quiet for nearly two years while Bethesda prepared their ambitious next step. In the mean time, Doom and its sequel continued to dominate the genre, and id's technology gave birth do a seemingly endless parade of clones. After Doom II, id went underground to work on their next generation game, Quake, but this time, Bethesda wanted to beat them to the punch.
To power their next game, they developed the XnGine, a powerful, true 3D engine capable of throwing around enough texture-mapped, light-sourced triangles to make coming next-gen consoles jealous. Unlike previous engines that faked the appearance of 3D with vertical rays, their engine would allow players to look and move freely in all directions, and build seamless multi-tiered stages. True polygonal graphics weren't completely unheard of before -- the RPG hybrid System Shock had 3D environments in 1994, and Descent had pulled off their own vehicular spin on the genre earlier that year. Bethesda's engine would blow them both away, and it would do it with forward-thinking gameplay that felt like the next-generation of the genre popularized by Doom. 
When it hit the market in late 1995, Terminator: Future Shock was a bold design that marked the beginning of the next generation of first-person shooters. Gone were the confined corridors and conspicuous glowing keys. Instead, players found themselves dropped into an expansive LA wasteland full of ruined buildings to explore. The levels weren't just big, they were believable, with missions and puzzles designed around a realistic, detailed city. It was the first time a first-person shooter had been given such a believable environment.
Rethinking control is the key to evolving gameplay, so the team, headed by Danish programmer Kaare Siesing, crafted a new way to interact with the world. They allowed players to look around in any direction with the mouse, while they used the keyboard to move. Players could smoothly aim and look wherever they wanted without having to awkwardly juggle another set of keys. It was a major innovation that went largely overlooked by many players who opted for the more familiar keyboard controls. Id Software noticed, however, and made sure their next game boasted a similar option. As we all know, the rest of the industry would eventually follow suit.
Hearkening back to the very first Terminator game, Future Shock even allowed players to hop into vehicles and drive across the ruins that seemed to extend for miles. Thanks to the new control setup, driving and shooting independently was no longer a struggle, and these segments echo the vehicular parts of later shooters like Halo and Half-Life 2. 
It was -- and is -- considered the high water mark for the series by many, but there was still room for improvement. Bethesda got to work on an expansion back, which eventually grew into a full-blown sequel, called Terminator: SkyNET. The new release addressed the biggest complaints against the original: the resolution was upped to 640x480 (with the option to do the same for Future Shock), and an online deathmatch mode was thrown in to appease the rapidly growing competitive crowd. The eight new levels kept the same objective-based structure as the previous game, but made some concessions toward more traditional design, with some narrow halls and switch puzzles sprinkled in among the broader levels. By the time SkyNET arrived, it had to compete with Quake, but even in the shadow of that memorable classic, it was hard to knock what Bethesda had done.
And so, on a high note, the series was laid to rest. It had been five years since Terminator 2 hit the silver screen, and it was time for the license to fade away.
Return to Shovelware
The series remained quiet for six long years, but when Hollywood announced their intention to finally deliver a sequel, the videogame industry followed along behind like a loyal lapdog. This time, French giant Infogrames picked up the rights for a series of games under the Atari brand. Well before Terminator 3 hit theaters, Paradigm Entertainment was warming up the franchise for Atari with a new third-person action game. 
Terminator: Dawn of Fate had plenty of potential. Set in the post-apocalyptic future shown so briefly at the start of the movies, it served as a direct lead-in to the original classic, with human forces fighting Skynet for control over a new time travel facility. The chance to explore the LA wasteland with a new generation of hardware was enough to get fans excited, and with a credible developer at the helm, many were willing to give the questionable early builds the benefit of the doubt.
But, like so many third-person 3D games at the time, control and camera issued damned the whole experience. With a scripted camera system similar to Resident Evil, the fast shooting action was made awkward and frustrating. Lackluster visuals and poor voice acting did little to redeem an already flawed experience. When it released in September of 2002, IGN's Hilary Goldstein called it a "doorstop." It seemed the Terminator videogame franchise, which had finally gained some credibility in the mid-'90s, was right back where it was during the Terminator 2 blitz.
Of course, Atari was just getting started. With Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines just around the corner, they would have exclusive dibs on a movie tie-in. They contracted the notoriously B-rate developer Black Ops to do the honors, and timed the release to coincide with the movie's hove video release. From that moment on, their game didn't stand a chance. 
To cope with the short development schedule, Black Ops used the engine from their infamous action game, Fugitive Hunter, a game that had already been drawing ridicule, thanks in part to its kung-fu fighting climax featuring Osama bin Laden. Rise of the Machines was no better and perhaps even worse, with a mix of lock-on-assisted first-person shooting and clumsy hand-to-hand combat that offered little challenge and even less fun. Atari had actually funneled quite a bit of money into the project, hoping the license ensured a hit, but no amount of money can make up for a weak developer and a rushed schedule. While Terminator 3's movie counterpart was merely disappointing, its videogame incarnation was hailed as an outright insult.
PC gamers were treated to their own unique Terminator 3 game a few weeks later. War of the Machines, developed by a little-known Hungarian studio called Clever's Games, took a completely different approach from its console counterpart, but somehow managed to fail just as badly. To woo the more online-centric PC crowd, Clever's crafted a team-based multiplayer shooter in the vain of Battlefield 1942. With capture points and vehicles, it seemed to have all the basic pieces, but the result was once again badly rushed, with unrefined maps, awful animations, and a complete lack of inspiration or innovation. As with so many of the other games in the series, Atari had hoped that the license alone would be enough to sell the game, grossly underestimating the loyalty of PC gamers to the top-tier shooters on the market. War of the Machines never even picked up enough of an online following to make it worth playing.
Atari had failed, and on some level, they knew it was their fault. Both of their projects were marred by poor developer choices and severely constrained release schedules. Instead of taking the time to release a worthy game, they banked on the timing and the license to the work for them. They decided to make one more attempt, this time bringing back the capable Paradigm Entertainment to do develop an original game at a more reasonable pace. They called it, fittingly enough, Terminator 3: The Redemption.
One of the biggest problems facing the Terminator series -- and licensed games in general -- was a stubborn adherence to genre convention. Hammering Terminator characters into cookie-cutter molds simply doesn't do the movies justice. Paradigm built their final Terminator game from the ground up with an eclectic mix of elements the mirrored the action from the movies. Intense vehicular chase scenes, shooting, and hand-to-hand combat allowed the game to actually follow the feel of the film faithfully. 
The Redemption was not really a sequel or a spin-off. It followed largely same plot as before, and in a very real way, it was Atari's apology for their botched earlier efforts. Breakneck chase scenes, vehicular rail shooting, and some genuinely solid gunplay formed the spine of a fast-paced rollercoaster ride that offered the kind of vapid entertainment the license deserved. Remarked IGN's Jeremy Dunham, "For the first time in eight years, we have ourselves a Terminator title that's actually fun."
Of course, The Redemption was not a great game, but after so many disappointments, "decent" felt good enough. Still, the previous three games and the third movie itself had killed a lot of the interest in the franchise, and after Atari's Redemption, the series was once again quietly retired.
No Fate 
This week, the Terminator series returns to gaming (and theaters) after a long slumber, with Terminator Salvation. Halcyon Games has made the right moves so far, starting their long development cycle before the movie started filming, and contracting Swedish studio GRIN to develop. Like GRIN's last shooter, Wanted: Weapons of Fate, Salvation is going the genre route with a conservative design cut from the Gears of War template. It's hard to say that the format doesn't fit the material perfectly, but it remains to be seen if Salvation can muster enough originality and substance to spark more than a fleeting return to popularity.
It's doubtful we've seen the last of the Terminator games. With Salvation being billed as the first in a trilogy, we know there will be plenty more material to draw from. What isn't clear is whether the series will ever be able to regain its hard-earned and woefully brief status as a relevant series of games that actually pushed their genre forward. What made Bethesda's games special wasn't the title, it was the ambitious approach to creating a fleshed out, interactive version of the world only hinted at in the movies. As long as games (both licensed and original) are content to simply ape the way movies tell stories, they'll never be able to truly reach maturity. Terminator has all the right elements, but it's still awaiting the hands of a master craftsman. 