In 1999, after watching End of Days, I wrote that Arnold Schwarzenegger has become more refined over the years, but that he still pales in comparison to his costars -- in that film it was Gabriel Byrne, and over the years it's been a number of others (I wonder if there are any words more feared in Hollywood than, "You're going to star in a movie with Schwarzenegger"). But the wisdom only applies when there are noteworthy costars to speak of; Collateral Damage, directed by Andrew Davis, has nothing to offer other than a couple of nutty cameos from John Turturro and John Leguizamo. Despite the fact that he boasts a personality as huge as his body, Schwarzenegger is clearly incapable of carrying a film by himself.

      It's an unfortunate state of affairs, especially since Schwarzenegger could count devotees in the millions after making Total Recall, Terminator 2, and True Lies, probably his three most well-received pictures (films like Predator, Commando, Conan the Barbarian, and Pumping Iron would become cult hits well after their theatrical releases). Since the mid-1990's, he's been on a downhill slide, and other than the mildly entertaining action flicks End of Days and Eraser, Schwarzenegger has turned out some rather embarrassing titles.

      He finds his workload doubled in Collateral Damage, for not only does he have to carry the movie by himself -- aside from Turturro and Leguizamo, the next-highest billed stars are Elias Koteas and Francesca Neri (who played the wife of the Italian detective in Hannibal) -- but he has to carry a film that deals with terrorism in the wake of September 11. The latter isn't his fault, considering that the movie had been postponed from its original September 21 release date, but the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington only magnify the movie's rather generic handling of terrorist motives.

      To be fair, this is a Schwarzenegger film, and it caters first to Schwarzenegger fans, since they are the only ones who can be relied upon to see his films more than once, if at all. It has the typically flimsy plot to back the Schwarzenegger action (which has a distinctly larger-than-life flavor): the muscled Austrian stars as Los Angeles firefighter Gordon Brewer, who, after losing his wife and son to a terrorist's bomb in downtown L.A., takes the law into his own hands and travels to Colombia to exact his revenge on those responsible. But when he gets there, the terrorists have nothing to say other than that Americans do not understand the terrorists' plight and that they're really fighting for the freedom of their country (the film hints at the vice more readily associated with Colombia -- the international cocaine trade).

      With that skeleton of a plot to pave the way, Schwarzenegger is free to kick ass under the direction of Andrew Davis. But though he has his usual complement of one-liners and bone-crunching bouts of mortal combat, by now everyone who has seen a Schwarzenegger film knows exactly what will happen. No surprises here.

      Which leads me to believe that, as far as mainstream Hollywood pictures are concerned, the greatest creative force behind any one picture is the writer rather than the director. Davis, who helmed 1993's enormously entertaining thriller The Fugitive, had an inventive story to work with there; here, he simply has your less-than-average Schwarzenegger rag. The results are accordingly awful.

      But if there's one thing to say about any Schwarzenegger film, including this one, it's that the presence of Arnold Schwarzenegger makes everything larger than life. Schwarzenegger is an enormous individual, and he epitomizes the phrase "screen presence." You will not find anyone in Hollywood today who fills up the frame more than he.

      Still, there's a gaping chasm between screen presence and the ability to carry a film, and while Schwarzenegger suitably accomplishes the former, cannot boast as much when it comes to the latter. The actor said that he was inspired to take the story because firefighting had always been considered one of society's noblest professions, which, if it isn't a bit of post-September 11 politicking, doesn't necessarily ring true on the screen. Schwarzenegger has always been an action hero, albeit one who has developed a tendency of late to turn out thematically dry and theatrically unattractive films like Collateral Damage.

Craig Roush, 2002