It was one of those oppressive summer days, cursed with stifling humidity and lorded over by a scorching sun. It was too hot to go outside, and all of my friends were either on vacation or away at camp. I was stuck, a prisoner in my own home, with nothing to brighten my pitiful existence but the promise of a new Transformers cartoon.
I tuned in to WGN at 4:00, expecting to be transported to another world – a world filled with heroism, sacrifice, honor, dignity, and giant robots. Instead I found the Chicago Cubs battling it out against their rivals in the middle of the 5th inning. The 5th inning! By the time the game was over, the evening news would be playing and I would be exiled to bed.
What a disappointment! What a betrayal! From the depths of my despair, a desperate rage began to rise, until a spout of expletives (no doubt learned from my cinematic upbringing) poured from my lips. I felt a sense of justified relief after my outburst, but then the door behind me opened and my mother stepped out. From there the day only got worse.
You see, the Transformers franchise occupies a very special place in my heart. The very first toy I remember holding in my hand was a Transformer (one of the Dinobots, if memory serves). I often recall with anguish the day some kid at daycare stole one of my most prized Decepticons (if you’re out there, Eric, you still owe me). And the harshest punishment I ever endured befell me after that Transformers-inspired tirade.
The first live-action Transformers film was big, dumb, long, and loud; but somehow, some way, it managed to capture just a modicum of entertainment. I never felt like it did the cartoon any real justice, but it was stupid fun; and it had pretty girls, nice cars, and the aforementioned giant robots. It was bad movie, but I let it slide.
Michael Bay’s sequel, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, really isn’t any different – for better or for worse. It’s louder than a rock concert, longer than the dentist appointment, more hyperactive than Dennis the Menace on a bender, and dumber than a gigged frog. That’s all to be expected, but this time the robots, cars, and attractive leads just aren’t enough to salvage the picture.
It’s not that this is an extraordinarily awful film; it’s just that it’s truly unworthy of much contemplation or consideration. It’s the Pixi-Stick of the summer. Sure it’s sweet, but when you get right down to it, it’s only sugar and food coloring. In the end, though, it’s not really worth it to complain – just put it aside and dig around in your candy jar for something better.
The film picks up two years after the events of the first movie. The heroic Autobots, an advanced and intelligent race of transforming robots, remain on earth, hidden in plain sight. The Autobots have formed a covert alliance with the American (and, apparently British) militaries, and together, they tirelessly and ruthlessly hunt down all that remains of the villainous Decepticons. After one of their fallen foes taunts them with threats of a coming revenge, the Autobots begin to cautiously prepare for an enemy counter attack.
Meanwhile, Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf), the teenage hero from the first film, anxiously prepares to leave his family and his girlfriend, Mikaela (Megan Fox), behind and trek across the country to embark on an Ivy League education. But, just as he finishes loading up the car, Sam discovers a small shard of the All Spark, the central power source and font of all knowledge (or something like that – trust me, it doesn’t really matter) that fuelled the robotic wars two years ago.
Aside from transforming the family’s kitchen appliances into a gang of diminutive and murderous marauders (in a bit that actually serves as a pretty cool reference to a classic scene from Gremlins), this discovery also implants volumes of important alien information into Sam’s brain. Once the Decepticons discover Sam’s secret, they will stop at nothing to use him to empower an ancient evil, and settle an old score with the human race.
Further details really aren’t necessary. There’s not much of a plot to hold this wobbly production together anyway, especially across its ridiculously long running time. Clocking in at around two and a half hours, the film is virtually guaranteed to numb any audience with a non-stop barrage of shaky action, spastic edits, pointless camera tricks, wanton destruction, inane dialogue, sophomoric (and offensive) humor, and a loud and largely toneless electronic score.
The film is at least 45 minutes too long, and although some judicious editing certainly could have improved the picture, the deeper problem is that this unnecessary bloat speaks to a real sense of pretension. Such a massive running time is usually reserved for epic and important films; and it seems presumptuous and self-aggrandizing for Michael Bay to consider his film worthy of so much of an audience’s time.
Now, I like Shia LaBeouf. I know he’s not very popular among my fellow film nerds and fanboys, and he does seem to always play the same character, but, here’s the thing - I like that character. Unfortunately, neither his quirky charm nor Megan Fox’s considerable beauty can overcome the truly lousy script and Michael Bay’s intrusive and heavy handed direction. There’s an attempt to further develop the romantic subplot between the two, but it’s clumsy and clichéd, and there’s no real chemistry between the leads.
Josh Duhamel and Tyrese Gibson are competent in small parts, but John Turturro once again overacts for all he’s worth. The Office’s Rainn Wilson fails to make a lasting impression in an unfortunately brief cameo. Newcomer Ramon Rodriguez is insanely annoying (and strangely disappears near the end of the film) and the lovely but emaciated Isabel Lucas does little more than pout and skulk around sexily. Oddly, Sam’s eccentric and outspoken parents, played by Kevin Dunn and Julie White, who, I thought, burdened the first film considerably; actually deliver the best performances and the funniest lines here.
A film like this doesn’t demand much from an actor. There’s a lot of running around, screaming to other characters at the top of your lungs, and, if you happen to be female, doing everything as provocatively as possible. Everyone here delivers. No one excels.
This criticism is all fine and good, but, let’s be honest. You don’t go to see a movie called Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen for its deep and affecting character studies. I get that. As long as this kind of movie entertains me with enough exciting action and amuses me with just a dash of clever humor, I’m more than happy. But while watching Bay’s newest opus to excess, I wasn’t happy at all.
The action is certainly kinetic, but it’s all too frantic. While it is somewhat easier to keep a handle on what is happening onscreen in this film than it was during the first Transformer movie, Bay is still more interested in artificially injecting excitement into his picture by over-indulging in extreme close-ups, hyperactive edits, and that now ubiquitous shaky camera. As a result, it is still nearly impossible to follow the action and it’s consistently painful to watch.
It’s also painful to listen. This is a loud and relentlessly obnoxious film. The sound effects are crude and repetitive, and the score is as soulless and interchangeable as anything the “Hans Zimmer School” has pumped out in the last ten years.
At least the film looks good. The cinematography showcases some moments of true beauty (if only the camera would sit still long enough to capture them), and the special effects are, on the whole, very well done. The scenes featuring both actors and effects are stellar, but strangely, many of the completely animated scenes genuinely suffer. There were a couple of truly ridiculous moments (like a visit to the Transformers’ home world or to, what I can only assume, is robot heaven) that completely booted me out of the film and reminded me that I was watching a very expensive, but still quite unconvincing, computer program.
Beneath the technical level, though, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen suffers from an ailment of the soul. On its face, a film like this should (and surely will) appeal to a young audience, but there’s very little dignity or honor in this picture. Michael Bay clearly has a love for the military, and he thankfully portrays our soldiers, sailors, and airmen as the selfless and valiant heroes we all know them to be, but just about everything and everyone else in the film is crude, crass, and brazen.
Even the Transformers themselves bear little resemblance to the honorable and humble giants I remember from my childhood. Like everyone else in the film, they seem devalued and debased. So much of their dialogue seems too common, too human, too stupid. Any dignity they retain is only thanks to Peter Cullen’s excellent voice work as Optimus Prime.
The film’s soul is sick and it’s loaded with objectionable material and immaturity. All the women in the film are characterized only by their sexual status and their physical attributes. The camera never fails to lecherously follow their every move. One scene features some heavy sensuality, and numerous others are littered with both suggestive and explicit sexual dialogue. There’s also a heavy dose of rude and imitative talk and behavior; and a hearty portion of some surprisingly strong language (including one F-bomb that seemed to earn a collective gasp in the showing I attended).
There are some scares, and of course a good deal of intense (but bloodless) violence. Many parents will be bothered by the truly brutal robot combat and particularly disturbed when a heroic character executes a wounded enemy. Just to keep piling on, Sam’s mom unwittingly gets stoned on “special brownies”, and a handful of scenes feature humping dogs (and one sexually confused Decepticon). But what I found most objectionable was the stain of callous and blatant racism that runs through much of the film.
In the first Transformers movie, there were moments of subtle bigotry that made me a bit uncomfortable, but this time, I was literally squirming in my chair. The main offenders are a pair of robotic twins that are portrayed as nothing more than ignorant and imbecilic inner-city black thugs.
Their dialogue is full of “street” talk, their lines are delivered in a heavy and offensive accent, and their faces are animated to look as ugly as you can possibly imagine (complete with gold-plated buck-teeth and crossed eyes). Trust me – it’s really bad, almost unbelievably so. We’re talking black-face, minstrel kind of stuff. The whole affair is shocking and genuinely reprehensible.
Now, at the beginning of this review, I said that this film wasn’t really worthy of the time it would take to complain. It turns out, I was wrong. I’ve gone on to unleash a torrent of critical barbs, but the sad truth is that this isn’t the worst movie I’ve seen this year (or even this summer). Still, something about Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen just really rubs me the wrong way. It deserves only to be ignored. It’s distressing that so many millions of dollars were wasted on such a loud and crass excuse for a film, but it’s even more maddening that people seem to be flocking to theaters to reward its brainless and accursed existence.
Caution Rating: 8.5
