Eraser

There are three points about this film that I would like to address.

1. "That place is like a fortress."
I never realized how much of a movie staple that is until tonight. But what's interesting is why we find it interesting. Is breaking into places we shouldn't be allowed a fantasy that we enjoy vicariously through the cinema? Maybe it's the repressed anger we feel about sticking it to our former employers, because, isn't that always the case?

2. The Railgun
Obvious physics problems aside, I don't understand why Arnie didn't use the guns the way they were meant to. They have x-ray scopes (despite x-rays not working like that) and could shoot through almost anything at nearly the speed of light. Arnie downs to guys in a warehouse and, rather than staying inside the warehouse where normal bullets couldn't hit him and shooting all the bad guys with the assisted heart-seeking x-ray scope, he walks out and shoots everybody with two railguns. He would have killed just as many, if not more, people if he had been using normal machine guns; probably would have done less damage to cousin Tony's docks, too.

3. Train Operators
They are people! I think movies really tend to forget this. For those of you who haven't seen Eraser, SPOILER ALERT, the bad guys die in the end. Arnie locks them in their limo and it gets hit by a train. Wonderful. But does anyone think about the guy who operates the train? No. Nobody does. This poor fellow is just driving a train through town assuming that when the gates come down on the road the path will be clear. But today the path wasn't clear. Today there was a limo on it. The engineer blows the horn and puts on full brakes, but it's too late. The point of no return has been crossed. The train obliterates the limo and although there will always be thoughts of "that was awesome," surely the engineer must be hoping that no one is inside.

"They had to catch a train," Arnie quips before he vacates the scene.

The train finally grinds to a halt. The engineer has already reported the incident. A dozen emergency vehicles drive down the gravel lined railway, hundreds of metres from the initial collision. They manoeuvrer slowly around the wreckage keeping a close eye out for bodies.

The engineer is questioned; detained even. The bombardment of questions fail to penetrate the guilt-wrought conscience of the engineer; only causing noise and distortion, like rain in an ocean.

"I could have stopped sooner. They might have made it..."

The death of three men lies solely on the conscience of the train engineer. An honest life forever stained, a soul tortured.Four men's lives were lost on that day.