Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

Author: Ryan Fox

Transformers 2 is really damn bad. Let’s get that out of the way, for starters.

Of course, it’s enticing to leave it at that. Think of what you could do instead of watching Transformers 2—say, read a book, go on a hike, or cultivate some racist stereotypes of your own. But a brief scan of the movie’s balance sheet reveals a fact mind-numbing enough to recall the experience of witnessing Michael Bay’s latest debacle: it generated 830 million dollars worldwide.

What is the allure? (Alien machines fighting each other. Fair enough.) What is the reward for purchasing a ticket? (None.) (Well, the Dyson Air Blade™ in the lobby restroom was pretty cool.)

Um, so, plot. Let’s see. Autobots (good robots) fight Decepticons (evil robots), on earth, while earthlings do their best to meddle and prolong matters. By God, do they ever succeed; the movie clocks in at a good two-and-a-half hours, and that’s pretty much one solid action scene.

Speaking of action scenes (well, scene—the two-and-a-half hour one)—the hyper-fast chases, mechanical explosions, and eye-dazzling robotic metamorphoses were neat enough in the first incarnation of the series. Regrettably, Bay has done little to transform (as it were) the action into anything substantial or innovative. The criticism is obvious: this movie is less than meets the eye. And in an IMAX setting, with surround sound, the action sequences—err, sequence—is literally headache-inducing by the end.

Anyway, what about those earthlings? Shia LeBeouf is in there somewhere, and he’s at least charming enough to keep us from walking out of the theater. (On second thought, damn you, Shia.) Megan Fox is there, too, and for blatant reasons; the first time we see her she is clad as scantily as you can be in a PG-13 movie, working under the hood of a car. (She’s a mechanic, see, and apparently it gets pretty steamy in those garages; I know every time I go to Jiffy Lube I have to remind them that they’re a family institution.)

Josh Duhamel, Tyrese Gibson, Ramón Rodríguez, and John Turturro round out the film with flat characters. It’s more than a little depressing watching an actor as fine as John Turturro compete with back-talking cars for airtime, but at least it’s comforting to know he made a lot of money.

The robots themselves speak much more in the sequel. Each one has trained itself to mimic a particular earthly attitude (surly, sarcastic, … those two, anyway), apparently by studying crappy Michael Bay movies. And then there’s “Mudflap” and “Skids,” the dopey twin Autobots who deserve special mention. Calling them racist stereotypes is an insult to other, more progressive racist stereotypes; they’re like players in a technologically-advanced minstrel show. They make Jar-Jar Binks look like a civil rights activist.

And while it’s rarely worth mentioning gaffes—especially those in a movie based on robot toys from the 80s—Transformers 2 does feature one of the biggest plot holes in recent memory: at one point, LeBeouf and Fox walk into the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum in Washington, DC, and walk out to the Nevada desert. Hats off to Bay, who succeeds in transforming American geography!

But, then, it made 830 million dollars, so surely this thing had something going for it? That, readers, can’t be explained in a mere review. I’d recommend a sociological study, or an anthropological consortium, or something profound and academic, before we embarrass ourselves when archaeologists unearth this in 10,000 years.

In the meantime, if you haven’t seen the movie yet and want to make the sociologists’ or anthropologists’ work easier, here’s a cost-conscious substitution. Go to Home Depot. Buy a wrench, for five bucks or so*. Find something metal or steel; a bucket would work nicely. Then set a timer and bang the bucket firmly for two-and-a-half straight hours.

*Aspirin sold separately.