What made the first Transformers movie so attractive was its combination of ground-breaking robotic action, fast-paced fun, strong plot, charismatic characters, good humor and incredible special effects. But this winning formula was wholly abandoned in the terrible sequel, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. The cast and crew publicly acknowledged this, the director and stars apologizing profusely for its flaws, and promised that the close of the trilogy would be a work of phenomenal franchise redemption. Alas, these promises were broken, making the third Transformers the biggest disappointment of the summer.
Sam Witwicky is bored. He’s recently been dumped by Mikaela, and is living with his new flame Carly while trying to lead a normal life. But Sam yearns to be important, to be part of the ongoing battle between the Autobots and Decepticons. This struggle intensifies when it is revealed that humans might be working with the Decepticons. Sam, Optimus and the rest of the transforming gang are once again thrust into the center of the war between robotic armies, this time fighting the enslavement of the human race.
The plot is shallow, but it still manages to produce a few surprises. The opening scene reimagines the history of the space race: the United States government put men on the moon for the sole purpose of locating and examining a crashed alien ship. Splicing actual historical footage with new dialogue to fit the plot, the scene is brilliant and probably the best of the movie. Sadly, it all goes downhill from there.
The bloated two hour and thirty-five minute runtime is jam-packed with a rapid assault of chases and explosions. Robots incessantly blast each other—and their surroundings—in Chernobyl, Washington, D.C., and Chicago. There are some stunning effects and sequences—in one, Sam is riding in Bumblebee (in Camaro form) when they are attacked and the bot is forced to transform. In an awesome and breathtaking sequence, Bumblebee launches his passenger into the air, dispatches his enemies with explosive accuracy, then transforms back, catching the plummeting Sam safely in the passenger seat. But these action scenes are nothing new; they are almost identical to those in the first two movies. The barrage of metallic destruction is overkill; instead of thrilling, the scenes feel repetitive and dull. Around the two-hour mark, I was bored and felt my eyelids drooping, fighting the call of slumber.
The fillers between the fight scenes consist of weak attempts at humor, mostly sexual. The film pushes the limits of the PG-13 rating with explicit and raunchy jokes and strong profanity. The dialogue is lacking, the lines are contrived, and the delivery is so wooden it’s painful to watch. Shia LaBeouf is adequate as Sam, and Patrick Dempsey appears to have fun in his role as Carly’s boss Dylan, but the performances won’t be winning any awards. The rest of the supporting cast is more robotic than the robots.
Jablonsky’s score also feels unoriginal. There was not a single theme or riff that was different from his first two orchestrations. While strong in musicality, the lack of creativity is a letdown.
Transformers: Dark of the Moon is a disappointment because it could have been great—the audience was promised as much. The weak story, terrible acting, raunchy jokes and nauseating excess of action scenes are a poor excuse for a summer blockbuster. I felt insulted having paid to see this garbage. Don’t waste your time.
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