I’ve been reading Roger Ebert’s movie reviews since the early ’80s. While my desire to see a picture increases tenfold when he gives it his trademark thumbs up, I especially enjoy his reviews of zero- and one-star films, as his writing can slice open a movie at midsection and then leave it bleeding on the ground.
I laughed when he wrote about one film, “I hate, hate, hate this movie,” so I wasn’t surprised when he called “Transformers: Dark of the Moon” “a visually ugly film with an incoherent plot, wooden characters and inane dialog.” What did shock me, however, was his next statement: “It provided me with one of the more unpleasant experiences I’ve had at the movies.”
Out of all the movies Ebert has seen, he called the new “Transformers” one of the worst. I guess he hated, hated, hated, hated the movie. Later, Ebert posted on his Facebook page a link to a review of the movie on a Web site called Film Freaks Central. Do not load this page at work, as the language isn’t office friendly. Along with the link, Ebert wrote, “Reading this, I’m humbled. I was way too easy on ‘Transformers.’” Wow.
Intrigued, I clicked the link and read the review. The author was incensed that “Transformers” director Michael Bay has turned a child’s toy into a sordid morass of foul language and juvenile sex jokes. This, from a guy whose Web site I advise against visiting at work. Prior to seeing the new “Transformers” movie, I posted on my Facebook page, “Leaving to see Transformers. Going to do the 3D IMAX thing. I don’t care about plot or character development; I want to see things blown up real good.”
Thinking back, and casting my statement in the light of the comments on Film Freaks, I’m a little ashamed, as the guy has a point about the infantile mentality of the “Transformers” movies, including the third one.
While Bay graciously spares us copulating dogs and three-stories tall man butts this time through, we do get a long, 3D look of a woman’s barely covered posterior and a “Three’s Company” style misunderstanding involving a trio of men in a public restroom. Bay also consistently photographs the actress who plays Sam’s new girlfriend, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, like she’s in a car commercial, and she’s the car.
Given all of this, I have to agree with the Film Freaks guy and ask, “How did these things end up in a movie based on a line of toys and a Saturday morning cartoon?” It’s not Rosie’s bare bottom that bothers me so much as it is Bay’s blatant, unapologetic objectification of women. That’s not the kind of stuff we should be pushing on our kids, even if the MPAA says it’s OK for 13-year-olds to see.
Where I think Ebert is sort of wrong is the story. Admittedly, “Transformers 3” is not Shakespeare, but it is coherent, which means it’s automatically better than the first two movies. “Transformers 3” involves a clever rewriting of history, a la “X-Men Origins.” If the movie, rather than history books, is to be believed, the NASA space program of the ’60s was a response to an event in which a Transformer crashed on the moon.
This gives John F. Kennedy his second appearance in a film this summer, and allows Bay to cast the real Buzz Aldrin in a startling cameo.
Bay also goes to greater lengths than is normal for him to give his human characters motivations. Sam, for example, has saved the world twice, but can only land a mail room job based on his girlfriend’s connections. Frustrated and angry, he spends a lot of time pouting and moping. Again, it’s not Shakespeare, but it’s something.
There’s not much else, except a parade of oddballs played by some of the most respected actors in the movie business. What John Malkovich and Frances McDormand are doing in this thing is beyond me.
Where “Transformers 3” excels is where you’d expect it to: the visuals. Bay offers action on a grand scale, and it’s phenomenal. There’s no suspense or engagement on a human level, but the sheer spectacle, the jaw-dropping animation, and the high volume at which the battles play out are enough to drown out that voice in your head that’s screaming, “Why should I care?”
Bay spends so much time on his money shots, he has to cut the story short, which might seem like an odd thing to say about a 154-minute film, but after three movies, it’s jarring to see the resolution between Optimus Prime, the leader of the good bots, and Megatron, the leaders of the bad bots, resolved in less time than it takes to sneeze.
Ah-choo!
Rated PG-13 for sci-fi action violence, language, and sexual innuendo. Two stars out of four. Email David Laprad at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.