Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009)

I have to admit that my hopes weren’t high going into Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. While I’ve often felt that much of the negativity surrounding director Michael Bay and his rabble rousing summer fare is a tad on the harsh side, the trailers for his latest explosionfest did little to stir my imagination. The first film in the franchise was average at best. Was there really any reason to expect more from the sequel? Transformers doesn’t disappoint, but that’s not a good thing given my low expectations. The jokes are pandering, the action repetitive, and even repeated shots of Megan Fox’s perfectly tanned and toned body couldn’t save this film from being an absolute waste of time (which is saying something given its excessive length of 2 ½ hours).

The film opens with narration by Optimus Prime (voiced by Peter Cullen), leader of the heroic aliens known as the Autobots. He catches us up on events since the first film, such as the fact that the robotic shapeshifting heroes are now working to protect the planet from the dangers posed by the remaining Decepticons. We also journey back over 17,000 years into Earth’s past to see the earliest meeting between man and machine. I wonder why the Bible doesn’t cover any of this?

Back to present day, and Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) is preparing to head off to college. He’s still dating gearhead tomboy Mikaela Banes (Megan Fox), and the couple are facing the challenges of a long-distance relationship. Sam is still watched over by Bumblebee, an Autobot who can transform into a bright yellow Camaro, and he’ll need the protection when he accidentally comes into contact with a shard from the AllSpark (a powerful alien artifact mentioned ad nauseam in the first film). His head filled with ancient symbols, Sam becomes a target for the Decepticons, a resurrected Megatron, and their powerful master known only as The Fallen.

The rest of the film is a seemingly neverending series of firefights, explosions, car chases, and lots of people looking serious in slow motion. Sure, all Michael Bay films are known for these elements, but Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is far less successful than most. In fact, it’s downright atrocious.

One of the major turn-offs for me was the film’s flirtation with both wrongheaded nationalism and thinly-veiled racism. There are so many shots of American flags and soldiers looking dutiful that I expected Lee Greenwood to show up at any moment. There’s nothing wrong, of course, with pride in one’s country, but it takes on a different tone when other nations are displayed in a less-than-positive light. Take, for instance, the film’s brief visit to France. Within the course of a minute, we learn that snails taste awful and annoying mimes lurk around every corner. There’s also the case of Mudflap and Skids, two Autobots who sound awfully similar to African American stereotypes. And if there’s any doubt, check out the jug ears and shiny gold tooth. It’s too bad that Bay didn’t include a firetruck named Fire Injun and have it talk in exaggerated Indianspeak.

The disgusting part wasn’t so much the content of the film but how effective it was on the audience which surrounded me. There was an endless stream of guffaws as dogs humped one another, Sam’s mother ate marijuana-laced sweets and acted the fool, and John Turturro almost bared his naked ass. When the movie’s weak one-liners were delivered, there was always a knowing pause so that audience members could titter without spilling the popcorn being shoveled greedily into their gaping maws. It’s the type of film which brings out the worst in its audience, and I was thoroughly embarrassed to be present for such a display of wanton ignorance.

I certainly do my share of cursing, but even I was surprised that the MPAA saw fit to give this film a PG-13 rating. It’s crude at best and patently offensive at worst. The “F-word” is avoided, but pretty much every other swear word is used in liberal amounts. This is just the latest in a long series of reasons why the American ratings board has totally ceased to be useful to consumers, and one can only hope that it eventually gives way to alternatives such as responsible parenting and well-informed moviegoers (although I wouldn’t hold my breath).

The action scenes are a mess, with huge globs of CGI robots flying this way and that. Most of the time it’s hard to tell the good guys from the villains, as most Autobots and Decepticons lacked any real personality to their design. They’re just big masses of metal firing wildly at one another.

Bay also takes his love of over-the-top camera shots to a new level. In an early scene, Sam and Mikaela talk to one another while the camera circles around them…and circles around them…and circles around them. After hearing how some viewers got nauseous during the jerky handheld moments of Cloverfield, I half expected to hear people losing their lunch in the rows behind me.

Frankly, I could go on for hours about all the things wrong with this movie. But I won’t, as I’m already growing tired of thinking about it. The only memory I want to retain is Megan Fox and the endless supply of babes which populated Michael Bay’s world (including the lovely Isabel Lucas). Most of the movie belongs on the scrap heap right beside the bullet-riddled Decepticons, but at least Bay knowns his T and A.