When Arnold Met Satan
At the tail end of the millennium, studios everywhere were scrambling to cash in on Y2K paranoia. While people hoarded canned beans and fretted over exploding computers, Universal Pictures greenlit End of Days, a film that asked the all-important question: What if Arnold Schwarzenegger fought the devil? The answer, unfortunately, is two hours of tonal whiplash, bad theology, and Arnold mumbling his way through pseudo-biblical dialogue like a man who accidentally wandered into catechism class after a bender.
Jericho Cane: Worst Name, Worst Detective
Arnold plays Jericho Cane, an ex-cop turned alcoholic security guard. His wife and daughter were murdered, which gives him the required late-’90s action-hero tragic backstory. Except instead of becoming sympathetic, Jericho just becomes drunk, sweaty, and perpetually annoyed. Watching Arnold fake despair is like watching a Terminator try to cry—it doesn’t compute. Every time he takes a swig from a whiskey bottle, you can practically hear his inner monologue: This script killed my career faster than Batman & Robin’s ice puns.
Gabriel Byrne: Satan in a Suit
Gabriel Byrne plays Satan, who chooses to inhabit the body of an investment banker because nothing says “Prince of Darkness” like corporate finance. To Byrne’s credit, he seems to be the only actor enjoying himself. He oozes sleaze, fondles every woman in sight, and explodes entire restaurants just to make a point. At one moment, he walks calmly out of an exploding building without looking back—the most “Satan” thing the movie gets right. Sadly, his diabolical charm is wasted on a script that thinks quoting Revelations in between shootouts is profound.
Robin Tunney: Virgin Sacrifice with a Pager
Robin Tunney plays Christine York, a woman literally bred from birth to be Satan’s baby mama. She spends most of the movie running, whimpering, or being tied up for ritualistic impregnation. Her “visions” of Satan are so awkwardly staged they look like deleted Red Shoe Diaries scenes. Tunney deserves credit for keeping a straight face while delivering lines like “He’s coming for me” to a very sweaty Arnold who looks like he’d rather be pumping iron than protecting her from the apocalypse.
Kevin Pollak: Comic Relief, Set on Fire Twice
Kevin Pollak plays Bobby Chicago, Jericho’s partner and discount sidekick. His job is to crack one-liners, betray Arnold halfway through, then burst into flames. Twice. Really. First Satan immolates him as punishment, then resurrects him as a lackey, only to immolate him again later. It’s less a character arc and more a running gag: “Look kids, it’s Kevin Pollak on fire again!” By the second cremation, you’re rooting for him to stay dead just to spare the actor further indignity.
Satanists, Priests, and Miriam Margolyes
The supporting cast is a who’s-who of “wait, they were in this?” Rod Steiger shows up as a grumpy priest who delivers exposition like he’s reading directly from Cliff’s Notes on the Book of Revelation. CCH Pounder yells a lot and waves guns. Miriam Margolyes—yes, Professor Sprout herself—plays Christine’s Satanist nanny and gets roasted alive for her troubles. Even Udo Kier pops in as a sketchy doctor, because of course he does. None of them elevate the film; they just remind you the casting director had blackmail on half of Hollywood.
Action by the Numbers
Director Peter Hyams tries to turn demonic possession into an action spectacle. This means Satan is constantly shot at, blown up, or tossed out of windows, only to dust himself off like Wile E. Coyote. Arnold unloads entire clips into the Prince of Darkness, which is about as effective as throwing Tic Tacs at him. There are car chases, shootouts, crucifixions, and one scene where Arnold gets strung up like Jesus but somehow walks it off after a quick nap. By the finale, when Satan morphs into a giant CGI winged beast, you realize the film has gone full Saturday morning cartoon—except Saturday morning cartoons have tighter plotting.
Theology for Meatheads
The movie wants to be deep. It isn’t. Every few minutes, some priest mutters cryptic Latin or lectures about millennium prophecies while Arnold stares blankly like he’s trying to remember how to pronounce “Revelations.” The central premise—that Satan must impregnate Christine before midnight on New Year’s Eve—is treated with total seriousness, which makes it even funnier. Imagine The Omen rewritten by the writers of Commando. The script wants us to believe this is cosmic destiny; it plays like the world’s worst pregnancy scare.
Arnold vs. Acting
Arnold has fought predators, robots, terrorists, and corrupt politicians, but nothing has defeated him quite like acting. Here, he’s supposed to portray a broken man wrestling with faith and grief. Instead, he delivers lines like “Between your faith and my Glock nine millimeter, I’ll take my Glock” as if he’s ordering fast food. Watching him struggle through dramatic scenes is like watching someone trying to bench-press a grand piano—they’ll give it a go, but it won’t end well.
Millennium Fever Dream
End of Days reeks of late-’90s panic: gothic churches, apocalyptic graffiti, Gregorian chants blasting over action scenes. The cinematography is so dark you wonder if the film accidentally shipped without proper lighting. Every set looks soaked in grime, fire, or blood. The whole production screams: If we make it ugly enough, maybe people won’t notice it’s stupid. Spoiler: we noticed.
The Finale: Suicide Saves the World
After two hours of Satan chasing Christine, Jericho finally saves the day not with bullets or grenades, but by impaling himself on a sword statue. Yes, Arnold defeats Satan through the power of holy seppuku. In his dying vision, he’s reunited with his dead wife and daughter, while Christine thanks him for saving her womb. The world celebrates the millennium, and the audience celebrates the credits finally rolling.
Why It’s So Bad It’s (Almost) Good
For all its failures, End of Days is weirdly entertaining in a “drunken uncle telling ghost stories” kind of way. You’ve got Arnold fighting Satan with rocket launchers, Gabriel Byrne chewing scenery like it’s filet mignon, Kevin Pollak combusting twice, and Miriam Margolyes yelling in demonic tongues. It’s nonsense, but nonsense with expensive pyrotechnics. The real miracle isn’t Arnold defeating Satan—it’s the film grossing $212 million worldwide despite critics torching it harder than Byrne torches Pollak.
Final Damnation
End of Days wanted to be an apocalyptic masterpiece. Instead, it’s a muddled cocktail of Catholic cosplay, bad CGI, and Arnold’s tragic attempt at “serious acting.” It’s not scary, it’s not profound, and it’s barely coherent—but it is unintentionally hilarious. By the end, you’re not fearing Satan’s victory; you’re fearing a sequel.
Verdict: A hellish blend of theology and gunfire where the only thing truly damned is Arnold’s dignity.
