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Picture this wild goldmine. When The Terminator absolutely demolished box offices in nineteen eighty four, raking in a staggering seventy eight million dollars, Hollywood lost its collective mind. Every studio, producer, and wannabe filmmaker started cranking out their own killer robot movies, hoping to capture even a fraction of that success. Most of these knockoffs were complete garbage, the kind of films that make you question humanity's creative decisions. But here's the thing nobody talks about, buried beneath all that trash are some genuinely entertaining disasters that deserve your attention. Why would anyone waste time on cheap imitations when the original exists? Because sometimes the most memorable experiences come from watching ambitious filmmakers swing for the fences and miss spectacularly. These ripoffs reveal something fascinating about eighties cinema, a time when anyone with a camera, some rubber suits, and zero shame could chase the blockbuster dream. Some crashed and burned in spectacular fashion, others stumbled into cult classic territory, and a few actually delivered bizarre entertainment you won't find anywhere else. Stick with me because by the end of this journey, you'll discover at least one movie that's so wonderfully terrible it demands to be seen. The madness is just getting started. Here's where dreams get absolutely shattered. Director Brian Hannant had something genuinely special brewing, a thoughtful time travel romance with satirical edge that could've been remarkable. This wasn't some hack trying to make a quick buck, Hannant co wrote Mad Max 2, so the guy knew how to craft compelling stories that resonated with audiences. They even convinced Carrie Fisher to sign on, which should tell you this project had legitimate potential. The original concept was genuinely intriguing, set in the year four thousand and thirty nine where humanity's last time traveling city gets relentlessly chased through history by cyborg invaders. Picture this, the city jumps back to nineteen eighty eight and two soldiers, Ballard and historian warrior Petra, go ahead to prepare the landing site. But then the producers looked at Terminator's box office numbers and made a devastating decision. They completely trashed Hannant's vision, demanding more action, more explosions, more shooting, more everything that would make it feel like a soulless Terminator clone. Can you imagine watching your artistic vision get butchered right before your eyes? Eight weeks before shooting started, they brought in an American writer for rewrites. Hannant's co writer quit in protest, but Hannant tried making it work until he finally walked away during post production. But the damage spiraled even further from here. Now buckle up for pure cynicism. This disaster might be the most shameless Terminator ripoff of the entire decade, and here's the jaw dropping reason why, it wasn't even originally supposed to be a Terminator ripoff at all. Someone looked at two completely abandoned, unfinished movies starring actress Sandahl Bergman, both totally unusable on their own, and had an unbelievable idea. Why not Frankenstein them together into one Frankenstein creation and sell it as a female Terminator knockoff? The audacity is almost impressive. The story they cobbled together follows Samira, a Middle Eastern terrorist who gets captured by the CIA and transformed into a cyborg assassin loaded with implants and built in weapons. She's supposed to infiltrate her old terror cell, but instead breaks free and starts hunting down everyone who programmed her. A mercenary tries stopping her while protecting his kid, played by a thirteen year old Paul Walker in one of his first roles. Can you believe that's where Paul Walker got his start? They'd planned elaborate robotic facial appliances to make Bergman actually look like a convincing cyborg, even hiring effects artist Robert Short, who'd later win an Oscar for Beetlejuice. But here's the crushing twist, Short got fired partway through production, and when he left, he took every single prosthetic with him. The result is almost poetic in its failure.