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thumbnail aeJust got back from watching the hypnotically disappointing Transformers 2. Now, I’m going to try to keep this short, partly because I need to work on getting my post length down and count up, and partly because I don’t want this to become a movie blog, since I have little to no opinion on the vast majority of them. By half way through the film, however, the thought of being able to vent on it was what was keeping me sitting there. That, and fascination.

I’m going to go back and forth a bit, but first I should establish the basic reaction: what irritated me the most wasn’t some frivolity of the script, but the ability of the production as a whole and, inevitably, Michael Bay in particular, to disregard their own previous film, which I had enjoyed immensely. The sequel treats the original not as an interesting story which should be responded to but as a weary preliminary now  out of the way: after all, Megatron is back so fast he’s barely had time to rust, and the world is infested with Decepticons (and apparently always was).

The previous film is the means to have the ball well and truly rolling at the start of #2, with a host of bitterly-held adolescent fantasies rightfully fulfilled in protagonist Sam. Sam has a devoted, bitchin’ girlfriend, a puppy-like Camero homie, magic powers, and ultimately a mandate from the Transformer gods. He has already saved the world once, everyone has to take him seriously, and despite his sufferings and embarrassments the joke is on those who don’t.

Now this is weird, since writing about Star Trek the other day I tried to debunk picking on movies for discontinuity in general. It’s a question of deciding to like a movie, I said. Well, T2 is best approached that way too. About an hour in, having decided that I very firmly didn’t like it, I was still sat next to my 15-year-old friend who was raucously enjoying every minute of it, fart jokes, bitchslaps to authority and sex predicaments included.

And I couldn’t bring myself to proselytise to him, I suppose because I have an outlet here. He didn’t take it personally that our opinions differed, and I would hopefully never give him the impression that I judged him for his, mainly because I know he’s an intelligent bloke. None of my most hotly-phrased arguments mattered, since none of the things that my liberal mind wanted to rail at were really going to damage him: inanity, gleeful destruction of libraries and monuments, and poorly-concealed rage at some past Prom Queen-related humiliation.

If I were going to proselytise, and let’s face it I am, I would have to respond to the film’s obvious hatred of women by saying that if you’d seen the previous film, (or even the Trailer for the current one) then you’d only need to know two additional things in order to be able to predict more-or-less exactly the events of the first hour or so of the second film. 1) Sam is going to an easily-stereotyped Ivy-like college, in a long-distance relationship with Micaela; 2) In defiance of all the story’s other logic there is now an evil seductive Deceptaslut transformer with a serpentine robot tongue.

Yeah.

Now, I’m sick of the idea that predictability alone is enough to make a movie bad: after all, I’m assuming you have half a brain and a grounding in Freud when I give you the above information and tell you to put two and two together and make a blatant neurotic jump.

[Note that the above video contains dialogue not in the final cut. I’ll give you a hint: it’s everything interesting or intelligent or speculative.]

It’s important that you’ve seen the first movie for that predictability to become easy (and enraging), because the second has all the first’s slightly worrying gung-ho tics writ large. It’s worshipfully military-fetishistic, and not simply apolitical but contemptuous of any kind of political context to military affairs and clean might.

Similarly Michael Bay’s now-notorious comment to Megan Fox when she asked what she should be doing to develop her character between films: “look hotter”.

Lord knows I couldn’t bring myself to love Bay’s version of the woman, with her tannic scorch and painfully blown lips, but watching her in T2 reminded me of nothing so much as watching Nicole Kidman in Lars von Trier’s experi-sploitation flick Dogville. It’s probably equally vile to over-react to Bay’s ability to hugely raise the sex of female action film stereotypes without a similar rise in intelligence. But all the same I left feeling like she was hard done by the film, overexposed and under developed, on and probably off screen.

Whatever. She’s a big girl. It’s a proudly sexy film, in the sense that it’s standing on the roof gable waving its dick around. It’s proud, too, of whatever it is that knits together Black Hawk helicopters, fixed notions of the absurdity and lechery of academia, easy professionalised racist archetypes and finally the urge to add slogans and fake genitalia to vehicles.

T2 quite literally adds gold teeth and swingin’ steel balls to the motherfucking Transformers.

In general, so much attention is paid to the talking robots in an effort to avoid fan fallout (Optimus dies again, and gets the best lines, and is heroic in a bumper-sticker sort of way) that something by turns lazy and mad can happen in the huge swathes of the film which don’t even involve them. And that includes the puddle-eyed orphan Jerry Springer robo-ho and her whole sordid bit.

Sabine_women

In case it’s not thoroughly spoilt, I urge you to check out this excellent Transformers 2 FAQ on Village Voice’s Toplessrobot, which provides the beginnings of an explanation for the movie’s various massive clangers.

Why would a robot need to fart, pee, or vomit? And why would it need testicles?
Michael Bay does not understand what a robot is.

-via ToplessRobot

Michael Bay’s “hilarious” comment to Megan Fox is starting to look like one of those little hints you should have spotted in your neighbour, before he started shooting people in his underwear and screaming about whore-aliens. He managed to make a film devoid of any sense or type of responsibility. A gleefully adult film which my 15-year old friend enjoyed, and rightly described as a “toy movie”.

A multi-million dollar adult toy movie.

Don’t give me that

p

[Edit: I forgot the most important thing! As Stubby points out in the comments, the above can mostly be applied to Transformers 1 as well. I just happened to enjoy that movie, and chose to dislike #2. Or wasn’t feeling quite receptive enough for its bullshit. Once I’d chosen, the evidence mounted up: the plot is nonsense, continuity is utterly nonexistent the setpieces undramatic.

I would say all this, if I was going to gripe. If I was going to gripe I would say something about the apparently unnoticed irony that in a movie with such a visible erection for tanks, aircraft carriers and planes, that unquestioning protago-geek hero-worship results in confused American soldiers dying in the desert based on one teenager’s hero fantasy.

If I was going to gripe. I suppose the point of all this was going to be some magnanimous edict that action films are what you make of them, or something. But the more I think about T2 the less inclined I am.

T2 is a movie designed to insult the intelligence of almost everyone watching it. And if you’re okay with that, then fine. But I’m pretty sure that’s not what action movies are supposed to be about.

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