Sometimes exposition is simply unavoidable. And, depending on the particular film and dramatic structure, it is sometimes necessary to deliver that exposition in a single scene or sequence. Unfortunately, if done artlessly, this can be a sure way to bore the audience to tears.
In The Terminator, writer-director James Cameron solves this problem brilliantly. After the Terminator's first attack on Sarah Connor, and her subsequent rescue by Kyle Reese, the latter is saddled with the burden of explaining to Sarah the highly elaborate back story of the film. Instead of reserving this dialog for a quiet, intimate scene, Cameron intersperses it with constant action. The entire exposition is effectively delivered over a riveting car chase sequence, giving the audience no time to get bored.
Watch the clip, and read the corresponding excerpt from Cameron's script:
116 INT. GREY SEDAN - NIGHT 116
Sarah is slumped way down in the seat, turned away from the
window, trying not to see the landscape reeling outside.
SARAH
(hoarse whisper)
This is a mistake. I haven't
done anything.
REESE
No. But you will. It's
very important that you
live.
Sarah closes her eyes, as if to shut it all out.
SARAH
I can't believe this is happen-
ing. How could than man get up
after you...
Reese's tone is equal parts hatred and respect as he replies.
REESE
Not a man. A Terminator.
Cyber Dynamics Model 101.
CUT TO:
117 INT. SQUAD CAR - NIGHT 117
Terminator drives expressionlessly, monitoring the babble
from Central Dispatch. He hears his number.
DISPATCHER (V.O.)
(filtered)
...Suspect vehicle sighted on
Motor at Pico, southbound.
Units Two-Zero-Six and Five-
Seven, attempt intercept.
Unit One-Four-Three, come in.
Terminator picks up the mike. He speaks in a
simulation of the young cop's southern twang.
TERMINATOR
This is One-Four-Three. West-
bound on Olympic, approaching
Overland.
CUT TO:
118 EXT. SANTA MONICA FREEWAY - NIGHT 118
The grey sedan moves through traffic like a hell-bent
wraith. Reese has the hammer down. He handles the
car with nerves of steel.
CUT TO:
119 EXT. POLICE HELICOPTER - NIGHT 119
Below, Reese's sedan snakes along at 110 plus. The
chopper, F.G., drops toward it.
PILOT (V.O.)
(filtered)
Air-unit Two. We're on him.
Westbound Santa Monica at 405.
CUT TO:
120 INT. GREY SEDAN - NIGHT 120
SARAH
A machine? You mean, like
a robot?
REESE
Not a robot. Cyborg.
Cybernetic Organism.
They have to yell over the roar of air through the broken
windshield.
SARAH
But...he was bleeding.
At that moment a blinding light sears down on them from
above. Reese looks over his left shoulder and sees a
CHP cruiser coming alongside.
REESE
Just a second. Keep your
head down.
CUT TO:
121 EXT. FREEWAY - NIGHT 121
The helicopter is right above the, its spotlight burning
on Reese. The cruiser flanks them, closing. Reese peels
off to the right, inches in front of a tractor-trailer rig,
brakes hard and slides into a four-wheel drift through a
curving off-ramp.
The helicopter banks, following.
The cruiser swaps ends trying to maneuver and slams broad-
side into the guardrail. Out of action.
CUT TO:
122 EXT. OFF RAMP/INTERSECTION - NIGHT 122
The sedan roars across the street without slowing
and vanishes down a tree-lined side street.
CUT TO:
123 EXT. POLICE HELICOPTER - NIGHT 123
DOWN ANGLE - AERIAL past the chopper, F.G., as its searchlight
sweeps over the close-knit treetops.
CUT TO:
124 EXT. SIDE STREET/INTERSECTION - NIGHT 124
The sedan skids around a corner, F.G., as the searchlight
filters in shafts through the trees further down the street,
sweeping futility back and forth.
CUT TO:
125 EXT. POLICE HELICOPTER - NIGHT 125
It hovers indecisively, then banks off.
PILOT (V.O.)
(filtered)
Lost him.
CUT TO:
126 INT. GREY SEDAN - NIGHT 126
Reese is ultra-alert, craning to look up, back, forward.
REESE
Good cover.
(pause)
Alright. Listen.
The Terminator's an infil-
tration unit. Part man, part
machine. Underneath, it's a
hyperalloy combat chassis,
mircoprocessor-controlled,
fully armored. Very tough...
He pauses as they slide around another corner.
CUT TO:
127 EXT. STREET - NIGHT 127
Reese's sedan glides out onto a main drag, very subdued.
He turns the lights on and blends with traffic.
The helicopter crosses laterally in the distance.
CUT TO:
128 INT. GREY SEDAN - NIGHT 128
REESE
(continuing)
But outside, it's living
human tissue. Flesh, skin,
hair...blood. Grown for the
cyborgs.
SARAH
Look, Reese, I know you want
to help, but...
REESE
(cutting her off)
Pay attention. The 600
series had rubber skin.
We spotted them easy. But
these are new. They look
human. Sweat, bad breath,
everything. Very hard to
spot. I had to wait 'til
he moved on you before I
could zero him.
SARAH
Hey, I'm not stupid, y'know.
They can't build anything like
that yet.
REESE
No. Not yet. Not for about
forty years.
Reese is driving sedately for a low profile, but his eyes
rove constantly, searching for a place to ditch the car.
Sarah's eyes are alert as well, and her tone becomes a bit
too cool.
SARAH
So, it's from the future, is
that right?
REESE
One possible future. From your
point of view. I don't know the
tech stuff.
SARAH
And you're from the future too?
REESE
Right.
They come to a red light and Reese stops.
SARAH
(patronizingly)
Right...
Like a shot she unlatches the seatbelt, pulls the door lock
and has the door half open before Reese can react. He catches
her arm and hauls her struggling back into the car.
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