Religion, by its very nature, compels man to put his faith in the illogical, the absurd, the spectacular. So, as it turns out, does film criticism. There have been times when writing glowing reviews of movies for this webmagazine -- movies like, oh, say, Deep Blue Sea, or The 13th Warrior -- that a little voice inside me starts babbling away about plot, or characterization, or acting ability, or other such nonsense. My inner Ebert starts fidgeting, worried, asking me if I really liked that movie about the evil intelligent sharks, or the one with twice as much firepower as dialogue. And you know what happens to that little voice?

AH-NULD kicks its whiny, petulant little ass. Then he blows it up with something explosive. And then he picks up the bloodied remains, utters a one-line witticism, and kicks its ass once more.

For I am a religious believer. I worship in the Religion of AH-NULD. Not Arnold Schwarzenegger, the aging action hero whose more recent movies (Batman and Robin) have nothing remotely consecrated about them, but AH-NULD, the Gun-Toting God, the Muscled Deity of Explosions, Explosions, and Really Big Explosions. AH-NULD is Terminator 2. AH-NULD is Predator. And AH-NULD is most definitely End of Days, the sanctified opus of how the apocalypse can be prevented not with guns, but with really big guns. And fire. And a fast-moving subway car. And, yes, a little faith along the way. This is, after all, a religious parable.

I don't know much about End of Days screenwriter Andrew Marlowe, but I have a sneaking suspicion his name is just a pseudonym for Stone Cold Steve Austin. End of Days plays like the greatest professional wrestling match never aired -- Satan vs. Schwarzenegger, with New York City playing the role of the world's biggest ring. Advertised falsely as a serious horror drama (Satan will take his bride on the eve of the millennium if one man does not stop him in time!), the movie really revolves around AH-NULD and his much-lauded ability to kick ass. Not that I'm complaining. Arnold Schwarzenegger works in two modes: intimidating and funny. For End of Days he planned to be neither. He wound up being both. And because of that, End of Days can be seen as the ultimate AH-NULD achievement.

The movie opens with the arrival of Satan -- a translucent spirit resembling a clump of unwieldy hair gel -- in New York City. He promptly searches for his earthly body and finds it in the most heavenly form of Gabriel Byrne, who promptly becomes Extremely Evil. How do we know this? Well, he starts doing things like smoking, murdering, and fantasizing about a mother-daughter menage a trois. (Satan's chant d'amour? Limp Bizkit's "Crushed", natch.) Not evil enough for you? Well, afterwards he goes outside and -- yeaaah! -- pisses gasoline. Then, of course, he lights the gasoline on fire to achieve End of Days' true goal, which is to blow as much stuff up as possible. It is the greatest incendiary urine scene since the ground-breaking (literally and figuratively) Nightmare on Elm Street 4. The message is clear: Being Satan rules!

Well, not if you're AH-NULD, shown here in his earthly form as Jericho Cane. Jericho, a cop made vulnerable by a drinking problem, is perplexed by the new man in town. He doesn't understand. When informed that Satan will take his bride on the eve of the millennium, he asks "Is that Eastern Standard Time?" He soon learns, however, that he must Protect the Future Bride (Robin Tunney) and thus Save the Day. Armed with dangerous explosives, cool guns, a body of steel, and the brain of a small insect, AH-NULD pulverizes his way into God's good graces. He and Satan compete on an equal playing field, thus cementing the former's status as an icon to hold faith in. If Satan's greatest achievement is convincing man he does not exist, then AH-NULD's greatest achievement is convincing Satan that he does not exist either. Or, as AH-NULD himself so succinctly put it, "Compared to me, you're a fucking choirboy!" Yeah Jericho, yeah!

I love End of Days. I love the ultra-special special FX, the paint-by-numbers religious theory (666 is 999 upside-down; add a 1 and you've got the apocalypse!), the huge explosions, the big guns, the blood, the guts, the glory. I love Gabriel Byrne, whose performance as the Dark Lord is sexy and over-the-top. I love a movie that plays the new Guns n' Roses single during a solemn Satanic mass. But most of all I love AH-NULD, the ultimate Manly Man, the only person on this godforsaken planet with the brawn and the weaponry to save the world. Do I love End of Days because I have the aesthetic refinement of a ten-year-old boy? Perhaps. But I'd prefer to believe I love it because it kicks all unholy ass, in every possible sense. For the Religion of AH-NULD, this is the Second Coming.

DROOL FACTOR: If that's Satan, then show me the apocalypse, baby! Like Gabriel Bryne would ever have to search for a bride, even if he was a gasoline-pissing mutant from the bowels of hell. I'd volunteer myself, if only I were baptized in blood and branded with a telltale hoofprint. Lousy Robin Tunney... some girls have all the luck!

GROSS-OUT FACTOR: More like Explosion Factor (whoo-hoo!), but there's some gore mixed in as well. Satan's other, non-Bryne-like form is pretty yucky, and lots of people catch on fire. Did you hear that? Fire! Yeah!

STRONG CHICK FACTOR: As the only woman who doesn't periodically flash her bare breasts into the camera, NYPD cop CCH Pounder is the best we've got. Tunney is given boring dialogue and appears to have lost whatever acting ability she had back in her Craft days. The character, much like the Entire Universe, exists only to serve the purposes of AH-NULD. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

-- Sarah Kendzior

End of Days is now playing.

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