At the Cinema: Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon

Jar Rating: 

Transformers 3 is a genuinely evil film. I don’t write this to be provocative, well, I clearly do a little bit, but that does not excuse this aforementioned fact. Luckily, in this circumstance I have the luxury of knowing that what is provocative is also that which is true. Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon is an evil thing. It does the world harm. It is wrong in the same way crime is wrong, in the same way prejudice is wrong. It makes the earth less good by existing. Here’s why.

            Transformers 3 as a singular film text is not perhaps guilty on its own of excessive immorality, although if asked that question two-plus hours into it's grievously excessive running time I’d have probably questioned that statement as I watched as patiently as I could for the robots to stop hitting each other. Instead, it is immoral because of what it represents: the third part of an incredibly successful studio franchise that treats its audience like livestock. Literally. It is a film that is designed to poke, prod, and stimulate its subjects in order to extract that which is needed from, namely, your hard earned money. It is a film that says: You know what, the thing about action audiences is they’re not into things like stories and characters and plots and themes and substance. No, what they watch is just to watch things blow up for two hours. Give them that and they’ll be happy. It is a film that not only doesn't care about you, it doesn't want to care about you, it doesn’t need to care about you. It just wants your money and will do the bare minimum needed to obtain that. It is a film that through a successful advertising campaign, an existing fan-base of toys, and an already established film series, manages to makes to convince huge numbers of people to watch it despite the fact it is really long and really, really boring. They know that. They don’t want to watch it with you. They just want you to watch it. Once you’ve sat in that seat, Michael Bay does not care one second about whether you enjoyed the experience or not. He admitted as much by apologising for “dropping the ball” on Transformers 2, despite not informing of his displeasure in the film until all the PR for the theatrical and DVD sales were complete. He is not, to use his terminology, just fucking the frame. He is fucking you. In fact, the livestock comparison does an insult to farmers. They presumably at least care about the quality of their meat and milk.

            Transformers 3 isn’t even as bad as Transformers 2. That instalment somehow managed to be more sexist, more stupid and more reprehensible then this latter entry. This is just stupid, sexist and reprehensible. It is a film targeted at the crassest, the most base, the most idiotic and the most infantilised desires imaginable. It is a film that thinks you are too stupid to understand the plot unless it is made ridiculously simple and explained three times. It is a film that thinks you will not notice or, crucially, not care about the vast holes in its narrative logic, that explosions are as important to you as characters, that breasts are more important than themes. It is a film that uses crude, national stereotypes for laughs because it’s easier than writing funny jokes. It is a film that has a 40-minute action denouement because that’s easier then writing scenes. It is a film that last over two and a half hours because that’s easier than editing it (which, incidentally, is 18 minutes longer than the new Terence Malick film The Tree of Life: a film, for better and for worse, that attempts to be about everything. And I mean EVERYTHING). It is a film that features one main character, the slightly awkward but basically heroic Sam Witwicky (Shia LeBeouf), one pair of breasts and an arse, both of which are “played” (perhaps too strong a word) by Rosie-Huntington Whiteley. We are supposed to care about the former because we are shown the characters’ goals and aspirations and obstacles the "narrative" (again perhaps too strong a word) attempts to allow him to overcome. We are supposed to care about the latter because she is Rose-Huntington Whiteley. She is a special effect. She is a thing to look at, a thing to use, and a thing to save because she is pretty looking. That is sexist objectification - there is not other word for it - and it is unacceptable.

           But Transformers 3 is most profoundly evil because it has somehow managed to disguise all this from its loyal audiences. People who were this time last year queuing up to see Inception  are now watching this absolute garbage and excusing its faults. They are saying things like Well, I’m just a massive fan of toys so I thought it was wicked ... I just like watching Robots hit each other ... It’s not supposed to be about the story ... How can you not like Transformers? ... Did you not see those special effects? Buying into a marketing campaign, such arguments seem to suggest that not like Transformers is like not like action films. Let’s get this straight:  I like blockbusters. I like watching Robots hitting each other. I even liked the toys as a kid. But it doesn’t need to be like this. All these things can be included into something with some sense of humanity, some sense of heart, with a plot that makes sense, which is on some level engaging and doesn’t treat its woman and its audience as things to consume and use up. I’m not asking for a masterpiece, I’m asking for a bit of entertainment. I’m asking for Thor, I’m asking for X-Men: First Class. Hell, I’d even take The Green Lantern. Just give me something to react to that doesn’t implicitly tell me I don’t like movies. Because I do. I like them quite a lot as it happens. And surely Michael Bay does too? Surely Michael Bay knows what a good movie is, why else does someone want to be a film director if not because they fell in love their chosen art form? Surely he knows this isn’t it? Of course he does, he just doesn’t care. It’s not just blockbusters at stake here people. It’s just simple morality. Stay away. Stay far away.