Terminus

Road Warrior rip-offs are legion. After the success of George Miller’s post-apocalyptic actioner, every two-bit producer with access to a stretch of desert and a box of leftover shoulder pads scrambled to cash in. In the U.S., Roger Corman unleashed Battletruck, Charles Band gave birth to Metalstorm (in 3D, no less), while Italy cranked out so many copycat productions it’s a wonder the Colosseum didn’t wind up with a gun turret and a flamethrower. But France—ah, France—they just might have delivered the most bafflingly sideways homage of them all: 1987’s Terminus.

Set in a near future where a tricked-out truck must pass through hostile territory to reach a predetermined “terminus,” the story begins with its hired driver (Karen Allen) captured and killed by rival gangs. That leaves Stump (Johnny Hallyday), a mysterious ex-con, to complete the journey—accompanied by a mute 8-year-old named Princess. Their mission is guided by an AI system called Monster, which struggles with its burgeoning emotions, having been programmed by Mati (Gabriel Damon), the cloned childlike creation of The Doctor (Jürgen Prochnow), who must answer to multiple versions of himself in order to win the ultimate game.

Confusing? Yep. Nonsensical? You bet. Even in its extended director’s cut (115 minutes), director Pierre-William Glenn crams in so many sci-fi ideas they couldn’t possibly coexist in the same universe—let alone the same screenplay. Terminus throws together armored convoys, cloned children, dystopian game shows, and sentient machinery, then dares you to make sense of any of it.

The much shorter U.S. version (83 minutes) strips out much of the exposition and pushes the action to the forefront. Shot in English, this cut leans harder into Road Warrior aesthetics. In its complete form, Terminus is a logjam of sci-fi movie references—Prochnow plays three roles à la Peter Sellers in Dr. Strangelove, Hallyday’s look channels Blade Runnerchic, and the hologram hacker squad feels lifted straight from Philip K. Dick. A disappointment upon release, the film found a second life on VHS shelves, where its striking poster art lured in plenty of two-day rentals.

Its arrival on Blu-ray via the MVD Rewind Collection feels almost serendipitous, giving fans a chance to experience both Glenn’s full-length vision and the trimmed-down U.S. cut. While the latter appears sourced from a lower-quality print, the director’s cut looks nearly pristine. As for extras, MVD goes above and beyond, including a lengthy making-of documentary featuring Glenn’s children, who offer both technical insight and personal perspective. There’s also a sit-down interview with Jürgen Prochnow, who reflects on his “discovery” by American casting directors, plus a photo gallery, trailer, and fold-out mini-poster.