A1 TITLE SEQUENCE - SLITSCAN EFFECT A1

1 EXT. SCHOOLYARD - NIGHT 1

Silence. Gradually the sound of distant traffic becomes

audible. A LOW ANGLE bounded on one side by a chain-link

fence and on the other by the one-story public school buildings.

Spray-can hieroglyphics and distant streetlight shadows.

This is a Los Angeles public school in a blue collar

neighborhood.

ANGLE BETWEEN SCHOOL BUILDINGS, where a trash dumpster looms

in a LOW ANGLE, part of the clutter behind the gymnasium.

A CAT enters FRAME. CAMERA DOLLIES FORWARD, prowling with

him through the landscape of trash receptacles and shadows.

CLOSE ON CAT, which freezes, alert, sensing something just

beyond human perception.

A sourceless wind rises, and with it a keening WHINE.

Papers blow across the pavement.

The cat YOWLS and hides under the dumpster.

Windows rattle in their frames.

The WHINE intensifies, accompanied now by a wash of frigid

PURPLE LIGHT. A CONCUSSION like a thunderclap right overhead

blows in all the windows facing the yard.

C.U. - CAT, its eyes are wide as the glare dies.

1A/FX ANGLE - DUMPSTER 1A/FX

ELECTRICAL DISCHARGES arc from the dumpster to a water

faucet and climb a drain pipe like a Jacob’s Ladder.

CUT TO:

2 EXT. SCHOOLYARD - NIGHT 2

SLOW PAN as the sound of stray electrical CRACKLING subsides.

FRAME comes to rest on the figure of a NAKED MAN kneeling,

faced away, in the previously empty yard.

He stands, slowly.

The man is in his late thirties, tall and powerfully built,

moving with graceful precision.

3

C.U. - MAN, his facial features reiterate the power of his

body and are dominated by the eyes, which are intense, blue

and depthless. His hair is military short.

This man is the TERMINATOR.

He glances down, taking calm inventory of himself, and notices

that a fine white ash covers his skin. He brushes

at it unconcernedly as he walks toward the fence, scanning

his surroundings.

CUT TO:

2A/FX CRANE SHOT - SCHOOLYARD/CITY - NIGHT 2A/FX

CAMERA MOVES UP as Terminator approaches the schoolyard fence

beyond which is an embankment rolling down in darkness to the

cityscape below. The school is perched at the edge of a promontory

offering a respectable view of the urban sprawl teeming

and glistening under a sullen sky. The night clouds are

shot through with occasional flashes of LIGHTNING, presaging

a thunderstorm.

Terminator stands, hands on hips in prefect symmetry, gazing

down at the city as the CAMERA REACHES FULL HEIGHT.

CUT TO:

3 EXT. PLAYGROUND - NIGHT 3

A beer bottle SMASHES on the ground. PULL BACK to include its

ex-owner and his two compatriots, YOUTH GANG MEMBERS,

lounging on the jungle gym of a deserted playground. They

sport nondescript PUNK REGALIA...torn T-shirts, fatigue

pants, combat boots or high-top sneakers, leather jackets.

The leader notices something and sits up.

LEADER

(pointing)

Hey, hey...what’s wrong with

this picture?

ANGLE - REVERSE, seen past the lounging toughs, Terminator

walks naked into a pool of streetlight, striding purposefully

toward them.

ANGLE - OVER TERMINATOR’S SHOULDER, as he approaches them.

4

They slide from their perches and drop easily to the ground

liquid shadows.

LEADER

Nice night for a walk, eh?

Terminator stops right in front of them.

TERMINATOR

(without inflection)

Nice night for a walk.

They surround him, all swagger and malign good humor.

SECOND PUNK

Washday tomorrow, huh? Nothing

clean, right?

Terminator eyes them without expression, unhurried.

Reptilian.

TERMINATOR

Nothing clean. Right.

LEADER

This guy’s a couple bricks

short.

Terminator turn to the second punk, ignoring the others.

TERMINATOR

Your clothes. Give them to me.

The punks exchange glances, dismayed.

TERMINATOR

(coldly)

Now.

SECOND PUNK

(bracing)

Fuck you, asshole.

Without warning Terminator hammer-punches him in the temple

with blinding speed. The blow flings him with a CLANG into

the jungle gym. He drops to the ground in a still heap,

eyes open, twitching.

The leader whips out his SWITCHBLADE and slashes in one

5

wielder’s wrist in an inhuman grip. Then he punches the leader

with piledriver force just below the breastbone.

ANGLE - PAVEMENT, as the knife clatters down. The punk’s

combat boots are on tiptoe, barely touching the ground.

ANGLE - TWO SHOT, Terminator and the leader are close

together as if dancing, but motionless. Their bodies are in

total shadow. The punk’s eyes are wide, his veins distended

with an agonizing pressure. Terminator jerks his fist back

with a WET SOUND and the other drops OUT OF FRAME.

The last tough is stumbling away, gaping with terror. He

backs into a chainlink fence, turns to run along it, finds

he is in a corner.

Terminator takes a step toward him, his gaze ominous.

The punk begins shakily stripping off his clothes.

Thunder peals overhead.

CUT TO:

4 EXT. STREET/NEARBY - NIGHT 4

A light RAIN begins to fall.

Terminator emerges onto the street from the playground,

pausing in the pool of light under a streetlight to hike

the collar of the punk’s jacket. The rain streams down over his

face, running into and over his eyes. They do not blink.

CUT TO:

5 EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET/ALLEY - NIGHT 5

Another part of the city. Seedy apartments and storefronts.

The streets glisten, hissing with sporadic late night traffic.

SLOW PAN AND DOLLY into the mouth of a narrow alley lined

with trash containers and fire escapes. From a recessed

doorway, two filthy legs sprawl out onto the wet pavement.

An angry, inarticulate DRUNKARD’S MONOLOGUE rises occasionally

above the rain sounds.

ANGLE - DOORWAY, The derelict rouses from his bitter stupor

as a brilliant purple glare lights up the wet brickwork

6

around him. A shockwave hurls trash into the air.

Painted over windows shatter.

Rat scurry, blinded.

A FIGURE drops INTO FRAME as if out of the sky and smacks

the pavement with a muddy splash.

C.U. - DERELICT, as he blinks at the fading glare, amazed.

A NAKED MAN, compact and muscular, rises in a defensive

crouch. KYLE REESE is 22, but his face has been aged by

ordeal, the mouth hard, eyes grim. A crinkled burn scar

traverses one side of his face from chin to forehead. Other

scars, from burns and bullets, mar his hard-muscled body.

The rain washes a fine coating of white ash from his skin

as electrical ARCS lace back and forth between the fire

escapes behind him, HISSING and SPUTTERING. The sound

fades, then stops altogether, to be replaced by a rising

scream of animal agony.

Reese lurches to his feet and sprints across the alley.

CUT TO:

5A/FX OMITTED 5A/FX

6 OMITTED 6

7 EXT. FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT 7

CAMERA MOVES WITH REESE as he leaps to the fire escape and

clambers up to the first landing to crouch beside another NAKED

MAN who appears to be entangled in the ironwork. The

man is contorted with pain as his screams die to a shiveing

gasp. CLOSER ANGLE reveals that he has been skewered through

the abdomen by the horizontal iron slats and through the

shoulder by a railing. He has materialized in the same

space occupied by the fire escape structure. The figure

slumps, motionless.

Reese quickly checks for signs of life. The man is dead.

Reese descend to the alley floor and crosses to the drunk

huddled in the doorway.

7

A pair of flamboyantly dressed women, obviously working

girls, passes by the alley mouth. They do a double take

when they see Reese, but walk on without breaking stride,

completely jaded. He’s certainly not a potential customer.

Reese crouches down as if to speak to the drunk.

DERELICT

Say, buddy...did you see a

real bright light?

CUT TO:

8 EXT. ALLEY/SAME - NIGHT 8

A brilliant white glare stabs into the alley mouth as an

LAPD cruiser glides slowly by on the street. The searchlight

illuminates the figure of Reese, crouching over the

sprawled drunk, just pulling on the other’s trousers.

The cruiser chirps to a stop. The doors fly open a two cops leap

out.

FIRST COP

Hold it, right there!

Reese hitches his pants and bolt like a shot. The cops

draw their guns and race into the alley after him.

HANDHELD CAMERA or PANAGLIDE, rushing with Reese along the

narrow alley. He vaults a pile of tumbled trashcans.

Whips around a corner. Leaps the hood of a parked car in

the cross alley.

PANAGLIDE PRECEDING COPS, as they snake through the night

maze.

CUT TO:

9 EXT. CROSS ALLEY - NIGHT 9

PANAGLIDE WITH REESE as he hits a chain link gate at a

dead run and scrambles over it.

10 EXT. ALLEY JUNCTION - NIGHT 10

WHIP PAN ON COPS, skidding to a stop at the corner in time

8

to see Reese vault the fence. They separate.

DOLLY WITH SECOND COP, as he runs to the gate.

CUT TO:

11 EXT. ALLEY/NEARBY - NIGHT 11

LOW PANAGLIDE WITH REESE, running full tilt, displaying

incredible agility.

REESE’S POV, the alley walls blur by. The view of a hotwired

rat in an urban maze.

C.U. - REESE, CAMERA hugging him as he sprints and turns,

alternately front-lit, side-lit and silhouetted as the

electric glare of the city wheels about him.

ANGLE - ALLEY MOUTH, Reese flashes though intermittent

cross-lighting in the B.G.

Another unit arrives out front and Reese melts back into

the alley, only to see a cop round the corner behind him.

Sandwiched. Reese crashes into a steel door, rending the

lock, and vanishes into the darkness within.

The newly arrived cops are a K-9 unit. They open the back

door of the squad car to release a large black Doberman.

CUT TO:

12 INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - NIGHT 12

Reese finds himself among the display racks of a discount

department store. A searchlight stabs in the front

window as he dashes into the maze of aisles.

Three cops enter behind him through the shattered door.

FAST PANAGLIDE WITH REESE, as he crab-runs low among the

moving shadows where flashlights quarter the darkness. He

bolts the open space behind a display window. Sees the

outside searchlight sweep toward him. Freezes.

ANGLE - REESE, his feral face frozen among the smoothfeatured,

smiling mannequins. As the light passes, Reese

silently moves on.

9

ANGLE - COP, passing the end of a long aisle B.G. while in

the F.G. a hand ENTERS FRAME, removing a knit shirt from a

hanger. Reese slips the shirt on quietly and does a fast

crab-walk across the aisles to melt into the other racks

and shadows, CAMERA MOVING LOW with him.

CUT TO:

13 INT. DEPARTMENT STORE/AISLE - NIGHT 13

With a shocking GROWL the police dog hurtles out of the

shadows, LEAPING RIGHT AT CAMERA.

ANGLE - REESE AND DOG, a dark blur with teeth, extremely

Doberman, flies toward Reese. He spins. Catches it by

the throat in mid-air. Arcs it to the floor with unflinching

precision.

C.U. - DOBERMAN, suddenly on its back and held by the throat,

THE DOG YELPS and stares at Reese, who leans very close.

Inches from its eyes he fixes it with a gaze of uncompromising

dominance. Some ancient communication seems to pass

between the two.

Reese releases the animal and turns his back on it, selecting

a long overcoat from a rack. The dog backs away from him,

stiff-legged and confused.

CUT TO:

14 INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - NIGHT 14

TRACKING WITH REESE as he rounds a corner on the run, still

shrugging into his long coat.

Running smack at him is another cop, gun aimed.

Without slowing, Reese leaps toward him, twisting in mid-air

like a cat. The cop FIRES. Misses. Goes down under Reese’s

tackle and they slide together on the polished floor.

Before they even come to rest Reese snatches the cop’s gun,

aiming it at the other’s face two-handed.

REESE

What day is it? The date...

10

COP

Thursday...uh...May twelfth.

REESE

(viciously)

What year?

A SHOT whines off the metal side of an escalator behind

Reese’s head. He vaults the escalator rail, leaving the

amazed cop lying on the floor.

Reese bounds up the frozen steps, pocketing the .38 Police

Special in his coat.

Cops dash through the maze of aisles, converging at the

escalators.

CUT TO:

15 INT. DEPARTMENT STORE/SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT 15

WHIP PANNING WITH REESE, as he hurtles between displays.

He stops for a moment beside a rack of shoes. Slaps one of

a pair of tennis shoes sole-to-sole against his bare foot.

Too small. Another. Holding the shoes he runs on.

CUT TO:

16 EXT. SECOND FLOOR FIRE ESCAPE LANDING - NIGHT 16

A door opens quietly and Reese slips out.

CAMERA TRACKS WITH HIM as he moves like a panther along the

narrow catwalk. TILT DOWN to include the first LAPD cruiser

parked at the mouth of the alley.

CUT TO:

17 EXT. ALLEY/STREET - NIGHT 17

Reese drops cat-like beside the unattended police car.

Cautiously, he opens the door of the cruiser, removes the

RIOT GUN, an Ithaca pump model, from the dash rack and slips

it under his coat. Cradled in a vertical position, the

shortened weapon is virtually invisible.

11

He walks out onto the street and away, unhurriedly, an

innocuous pedestrian soon lost in the rain.

CUT TO:

18 EXT. STREET/NEARBY - NIGHT 18

Reese enters a telephone booth. Harsh light rakes across

his face, outlining the long scar. He opens the directory,

leafs through it.

ANGLE - MACRO ON PAGE, Reese’s finger slides down a column.

Stops beside the following listings in the big metropolitan

white pages:

CONNOR, SARAH

CONNOR, SARAH ANN

CONNOR, SARAH J.

DISSOLVE TO:

19 EXT. CITY STREET - MORNING 19

The night’s rain has given way to a typical L.A. morning

of diffuse sunlight.

MOVING WITH A GIRL on a MOPED as she zips through traffic.

SARAH CONNER is 19, small and delicate-featured. Pretty in

a flawed, accessible way. She doesn’t stop the party when

she walks in, but you’d like to get to know her. Her vulnerable

quality masks a strength even she doesn’t know exists.

Sarah maneuvers nimbly, apparently in a hurry.

CUT TO:

20 EXT. BIG BOB’S RESTRAUNT - DAY 20

Sarah buzzes into the parking lot of Big Bob’s Family

Restaurant and chains the moped to the icon of Big Bob

himself. The fiberglass cherub holds up his mammoth

hamburger in perpetual homage to whatever deity watches

out for fat kids.

Sarah removes a stack of college textbooks from the luggage

carrier and tuns to go into the restaurant.

12

SARAH

(to Big Bob)

Watch this for me, big buns.

CUT TO:

21 INT. BIG BOB’S/DINING AREA 21

HIGH WIDE SHOT prominently featuring a VIDEO SURVEILLANCE

CAMERA F.G. as Sarah enters below. She passes under another

video eye as she crosses the main floor of the wholesomely

appointed eatery. Sarah goes through the swinging STAFF

doors under a third camera.

CUT TO:

22 INT. MANAGER’S OFFICE 22

The office is closet-like, lit by the glow of several

security monitors. CHUCK BREEN, day manager, pimply and

officious,watches Sarah in an overhead view of the service

corridor. He punches a switch and reaches for a microphone

on a studio gooseneck.

CUT TO:

23 INT. SERVICE CORRIDOR 23

Sarah glances up as Breen’s voice rasps from a ceiling speaker.

BREEN (V.O.)

Sarah?

She answers the empty hallway.

SARAH

Yes, Chuck?

BREEN

Come to the office, please.

She turns back toward the office door at the end of the

corridor.

CUT TO:

13

24 MANAGER’S OFFICE 24

Sarah opens the door to Breen’s closet control center.

SARAH

Mission control to Chuck,

come in...

BREEN

(without looking up)

You’re late.

Sarah is undaunted.

SARAH

Aren’t I worth waiting for?

BREEN

Not really. Do you think you

can get here on time if I put

you on the floor as a waitress?

SARAH

(grinning)

I don’t know. I kinda had

my heart set on being a

cashier the rest of my life.

BREEN

The pay’s the same but you’ll

make more in tips.

SARAH

Thanks, Chuck. I need the

money. Can I still work the

hours around my classes?

Breen turns to punch up a display on the restaurant’s

small accounting computer. Sarah looks over his shoulder

as he modifies the week’s schedule.

BREEN

Mmm. Same schedule’s okay.

SARAH

Alright!

14

BREEN

(gravely)

Can you handle it?

SARAH

It’s not brain surgery,

Chuck.

Breen hands her an apron ceremoniously.

BREEN

Here you go. You’re a

Bob’s Girl now. Nancy

will check you out.

SARAH

I won’t let the fat kid down.

CUT TO:

25 OMITTED 25

26 INT. LOCKER ROOM - DAY 26

NGLE - TIGHT ON LOCKER DOOR as it slams shut, revealing

Sarah transformed into a