Transformers; Revenge of How We Spend Our Money at the Box Office [Review]

I went and saw Transformers.  That’s right, I read the reviews and I went to see it anyway.

This is not because I was completely obsessed with the Transformers between the formative years of 5 and 11.  That’s why I saw the first one.  I wasn’t making that mistake again.

I went because I don’t get the opportunity to go to the movies very often any more so when I do go I want the movie to take full advantage of the fact that it’s going to be playing on an enormous screen with an absurd sound system at its beck and call.  I like to sit in the 2^nd or 3^rd row so that the screen fills my field of vision.  I want explosions and action and sensory overload.

That doesn’t tell you much about Transformers, but I wanted to give context behind why I go because I hope it will lead to fewer beatings from the next sentence:

I didn’t think it was that bad.

It certainly wasn’t that good either.  But it really wasn’t that bad.  I’d give it 3/5 probably.

Now why would I make such a patently absurd statement?  Did it make sense?  No.  Did the plot hold water for longer the five seconds?  No.  Were there supremely bad continuity errors?  No.  Was there anything resembling characterization?  No.  Was there really any substance other than a slow-building cacophony of noise and ’splosion pr0n?  No, not really.

But you know what?  It doesn’t matter.

That realization is the essence of Transformers and I think crucial to its enjoyment.  Whatever you saw on the screen five seconds ago – it doesn’t matter.  What’s to come doesn’t matter.  All that matters is what’s happening on screen now, this instant, no forget that instant, this instant, no now, now, now.  In  the same way China Mieville suggests a surrender to the weird, this movie insists a surrender to the now.  The movie’s only interest is in making what’s on screen at this exact moment in time as awesome as possible.

I think this can be neatly summed up from one scene towards the end of the movie:  John Turturro is on-screen.  Awesome.  He’s at the pyramids.  Awesome.  Above him is a giant robot.  Awesome.  The giant robot is actually made up on other robots.  Awesome.  Those robots were the truly enormous construction vehicles they use in mines, the ones the size of city blocks.  Awesome.  The giant conglomerate robot is destroying the pyramids.  Awesome.  Inside the pyramid is hidden a laser that’ll blow up the sun.  Awesome.  John Turturro is on a satellite phone telling the navy to shoot some experimental rail gun at the giant robot.  Awesome.

Now, how could this scene be possibly made more awesome?  Think about it.  What could you possibly do?

You could give that robot some testicles made of giant wrecking balls and have them clank about above John Turturro’s head.  That’s what you could do.  Fucking AWESOME.

Now, does the robot need testicles?  No.  Did it have them in any prior scene?  No.  Will it have them in any others?  No.  Does it make any sense whatsoever?  YES!!! It adds more awesome!!!  That’s all that you could ever want.

Now, obviously there is a very specific definition of awesome being used here.  It is, I suspect, Michael Bay’s sense of awesome.  Or, to give him some credit he may or may not deserve – it is what he thinks we think is awesome.  And he’d be justified.  Because we, as a populace, have thrown our money at movies trying to be this movie.  And they have.  Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, is the most complete realization of the summer blockbuster I have ever seen.  Everything is subjugated to the one decision to make whatever is happening on screen right now as awesome as possible, as popcorn friendly as possible.¹

The long-term outcome of this decision is predictabe–5 or 6 seconds after I left the theatre, then I no longer cared about Transformers.  It no longer existed in the now.  It was past, and it had effectively destroyed the relevance of such a time.  But, while it lasted, much as my popcorn was, the movie was entertaining.

¹Whether the fact that the ultimate realization of Hollywood’s blockbuster vision comes in at a solid 3/5 is shockingly good or shockingly bad I think depends on your level of cynicism.  Personally I’m rather impressed.