Transformers: Revenge of the fallen
by Matthew Rodgers
Michael Bay doesn’t care much for the opinions of critics, and justifiably so when some cant reduce their levels of false pomposity to acknowledge that they are watching a big budget event movie about alien robots that transform into various automobiles, and then fight, a lot. Those that do form a line of dissent might want to cast their minds back to their own childhoods and imagine the unadulterated joy they would have garnered from Pinky and Perky: The Movie or The Woodentops take Afghanistan. This is Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, it is what it is, and it does exactly what it says on its shiny, expensive vehicular tin. Only this time Bay isn’t concerned with tentatively establishing the mythos of nostalgic memory, so for better or for worse there are more ‘bots, bombs and boobs than a hip-hop video. Is it any good? Yes. Is it better than the first? There’s not an Autobots chance in Cybertron that it is…….that’s a no.
In a plot lazily not too dissimilar to the first instalment, the Decepticons (that’s bad guys to the uninitiated) are returning to Earth in order to capture Shia LeBeouf’s Sam Witwicky. The reason being he has a shard of the Energon cube, the same Macguffin they pursued to glorious effect it 2007’s buster of blocks. Sam is about to head to college, so as well dealing with higher education he has a long distance relationship with Megan Fox’s Mikaela to contend with, as well as the unwanted attention of an amorous new classmate, all whilst the threat of the mysterious Fallen begins to loom larger.
It’s obvious from the start that Bay has fallen foul of his own boastful “more, more, more” mantra, everything is that much bigger, stretched from corner to corner of the cinema screen. Saying that, he does get the major grumbles from the first film corrected in fantastic fashion.
The fast, whip-pan style of edits are few and far between, so making out the intricate details of the battle scenes is much easier. The major set-pieces are also bravely positioned during the day, so effects work has to be that much more flawless, and its credit to ILM that the robot work is truly amazing, surely ensuring they avoid being robbed again (The Golden Compass?!?) come awards season.
We also get much more from the titular robots; gone is the heavy reliance on the Prime voiceover (still given notable gravitas by original cartoon fave Peter Cullen), and the personality establishing quips, meaning that Bumblebee, Starscream etc are no longer simply soundbite vending machines, they get fully developed sentences to deliver. Take the Cybertron based conversations between a resurrected Megatron (the Christ analogies are rife throughout) and the enigmatic Fallen, it’s not Shakespeare, but at least it gives the threadbare plot time to breathe and allow us a glimpse into the “robots in disguise” extended universe.
The improvements are nearly suffocated by Bay’s over indulgence, and an attempt to fit too much junk in the trunk. New additions to the Autobots should have been considered for the scrapheap; Mudflap and Skids, two jive talking “twins” are intermittently funny but bring a certain Mr. Jar Jar Binks to mind, similarly a giant war plane with a Scottish brogue tips the comedy scale a tad too far.
The Decepticons fare much better; more of the Starscream/Megatron power struggle will no doubt please the fans, and notable new members of the 42 debuting robots are the huge unicycle type thing that dominates the Shanghai based, brilliant opening twenty minutes, and the sand-sucking juggernaught that scales the Egyptian pyramids in the bloated finale.
In amongst the CGI carnage and slow motion plane shots (tiresome trademark Bay) you will find a few characters of the fleshy variety. LaBeouf is fine as Witwicky, even if the larger role of his family for ultimately ridiculous plot mechanics does begin to grate. Megan Fox, who was so promising in the first film, is reduced to gratuitous cleavage shots and very little else, the uneven distribution of actor screen-time is without doubt the most crushing aspect of the movie. John Turturro returns in an attempt to shout his lines progressively louder in each scene, and Duhamel and Gibson appear to have been loitering on-set without anybody telling them the first movie had ended.
Rewinding, Soundwave style, to the start of the review, it has to be said that this is always an exhilarating cinematic spectacle, the likes of which you have no right to complain about should you choose it over the latest period drama. What may seem like a negative review in terms of its body work, is in fact just a response to a lack of details under the hood, and a reflection on Revenge of the Fallen’s inability to match its predecessor.
