Given that the world can take this movie completely for granted now, one can forget how gradually Cameron unravels what's happening with the two nude men who emerge one night from a torrent of voltage: One, a colossal Germanic beast, dispatches of a crew of punks to obtain their clothes first thing after he instantaneously regains his orientation. Those clothes, incidentally, should definitely not fit the much massive man, but that's merely one of a goodly figure of plot cavities that I only ever note after it's over: Like several ambitious thriller directors before him, Cameron reveals an exceptional skill at sustaining the action so summarily that this or that inconsistent detail doesn't matter.