In theaters

TERMINATOR 3: RISE OF THE MACHINES, directed by Jonathan Mostow, written by John Brancato, Michael Ferris and Tedi Sarafian, 109 minutes, rated R.

Isn’t it great how a string of flops can motivate someone to do a project they had previously shot down? Not even Arnold Schwarzenegger, the potential governor of California and former king of the box office, is immune to such a career necessity.

There was a time, back in the day, when Schwarzenegger said he’d never do another Terminator movie. Of course, that was when Arnie was riding a high and the horizon didn’t have the low-cloud clutter of “End of Days,” “Collateral Damage” and “Jingle All the Way.”

Without Schwarzenegger on board, director James Cameron had no choice but to end his popular franchise in 1991’s “Terminator 2: Judgment Day,” an excellent film that quashed the series’ doomsday threat of a nuclear holocaust with the disconnection of SkyNet – the computer system threatening to destroy the world with machines – and sent Arnie’s T1 into a fiery pit of no return.

Or so we were led to believe.

Now, 12 years later, the new Terminator movie, “Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines,” a violent, $175 million sci-fi action blockbuster from director Jonathan Mostow (“U-571”), breezes through those sticky plot problems with a handful of thin explanations, a “who cares?” attitude and a sea of good will to see it through.

The film is pure meat-and-potatoes summer fare, offering audiences precisely the sort of wrecking-ball entertainment they didn’t find in the high-minded “Hulk.” Unforgiving in its leanness and its huge action pieces, some of which literally destroy entire city blocks, the film finds the bulky Schwarzenegger, 55, back in fine form in what’s arguably the most famous role of his career.

This time out, the world’s future hangs in the balance by yet another cyborg, a leather-clad, impossibly curvaceous Terminatrix (Kristanna Loken) downloaded from the future to murder John Connor (Nick Stahl), the much-maligned savior of the world who has been hunted down by machines since before he was born.

To get to Connor, this potent, pixilated pixie – T-X, as she’s formally called – will have to go through Arnold’s T-1, an “obsolete design,” who finds himself protecting not only Connor, but also Kate Brewster (Claire Danes), a shrill veterinarian connected to the action in a haze of coincidences.

What ensues isn’t as gripping as it was in James Cameron’s hands – Mostow isn’t as deft in wedding his action to the film’s emotional undercurrent, and you do feel the loss of Linda Hamilton’s Sarah Connor, who was unfortunately written out of the script. Still, the movie is nevertheless better than you might expect.

Mostow and his writers, John Brancato, Michael Ferris and Tedi Sarafian, respect what came before it. They unleash the action at a blistering pace, Arnold rips off a few noteworthy one-liners (“She’ll be back”) and the film ends with the prospect of another movie.

Sure, if they make us wait another 12 years for “T4,” Arnold will be collecting Social Security, but then so will some of the fans of the original movie. Don’t be surprised if the filmmakers change the film’s focus and have the T1 fighting to retain that.

Grade: B

On video and DVD

PHONE BOOTH, directed by Joel Schumacher, written by Larry Cohen, 81 minutes, rated R.

Thirty years ago, when people still used telephone booths, writer Larry Cohen had the idea for “Phone Booth,” which he ran by Alfred Hitchcock, who encouraged him to put something down on paper.

By the time Cohen finished the script, Hitchcock was dead and “Phone Booth,” a thriller in which a man is held hostage in a phone booth by a sniper in a neighboring building, began the longest of long-distance calls to theaters.

Now, as directed by Joel Schumacher, the film stars Colin Farrell as Stu Shepard, a self-involved, Manhattan-based media publicist who mistakenly answers the phone at the phone booth on 53rd and Eighth and is immediately held hostage by the psycho (Keifer Sutherland) on the other end, a man eager to kill him for all his sins, not the least of which is Stu’s willingness to cheat on his wife, Kelly (Radha Mitchell).

Where is the sniper? In one of the buildings surrounding Stu. Is he for real? One lethal shot in a pimp’s back not only proves he is, but also brings in the police. As led by Captain Ramey (Forest Whitaker), the cops must sort out this mess while Stu, unable to move from the booth because it would mean certain death, fights to stay alive.

In spite of its few plot holes, what unfolds is a slick, occasionally tense thriller about the potentially deadly ramifications of forgetting one’s manners and losing one’s morals.

At 81 minutes, it’s a brisk ride, a film whose best insight comes from its observation that, in spite of never being better connected to the outside world, we’ve also never been more disconnected from ourselves and our own lives.

Grade: B

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, Thursdays on WLBZ 2 and WCSH 6, and are archived on RottenTomatoes.com. He may be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.