With the general decline of 3D cinematic offerings since the mould-breaking Avatar, the third instalment of Michael Bay’s bombastic reimaginings of the much-loved children’s cartoon/Mattel advertisement looked set to restore goggle-adorned patrons’ faith in the capability of the medium. Shot with actual 3D cameras, rather than resort to the much-maligned post-conversion process, Bay’s approach signalled that of a director dedicated to that of their craft.
Rising to the films’ levels of ridiculousness, IMAX put on a heck of a robot-themed party before the midnight launch of Dark Of The Moon. Yes, there were Gin and Megatronics (heh) and Autobottles of beer (a bit of a stretch, but I’ll allow it) on offer while members of Nomadic Funk busted out the robot on the dancefloor. Following that, three punters (possibly fuelled by Autobottles) took part in a dance-off, with the winner, who wowed the crowd with a comp-winning headstand, walking away with some sweet Transformers swag.
The premise of the Transformers the third is established with the revisionist-history assertion that the Apollo 11 mission, humankind’s grandest achievement, was a mere front for the investigation of a crash-landed alien ship. It’s an overtly arrogant plot device, delivered with a challenging posterity. “I’ve got the Buzz Aldrin, what y’all got?” Bay seems to proclaim.
What follows is a series of explosions, tattered American flags, offensive product placement, a tedious love triangle, robo-betrayal, and robots. Lots of robots.
Where the 3D effects were freakin’ amazing during the film’s many action sequences, they were a tad disconcerting when portraying the few glimpses of the human characters’ interactions. At times, focussing on a section of the sprawling IMAX screen was challenged by out-of-focus foreground action leaping from the screen, where the focal point was a character in the background.
Of those human characters, the standout by far has to be the over-the-top Bruce Brazos (John Malkovich). Malkovich revels in his overly-tanned, ultra-white-toothed, guise – chewing up scenes with as much aplomb as Megatron has blowing them up. Problem is, he just doesn’t get enough screen time.
As for the action, the introduction to Shockwave in the barren ruins of Chernobyl holds up as the most awe-inspiring sequences in recent memory. A swooping bird’s-eye pan across the landscape, which is resolutely torn up by a warring Shockwave and Optimus Prime, is 3D action at its most perfect. But with the third act of the film being one elongated action sequence, it gets a little overwhelming and overlong towards the end.
For all the shit thrown in Bay’s direction, most notably by now-admonished star Megan Fox and her “Hitler” gibe, it’s easy to forget that he is in fact an auteur. Sure, he’s an auteur of a genre dismissed as lowest-common-denominator tripe, but he’s an auteur at that. Let’s face it; there really isn’t much difference between his filmic approach and that of critical darlings the Coen brothers – most explicitly the sharing of the same pool of acting talent. There’s that wry sense of self-awareness, which often delves into self-parody – as exhibited with Bay’s cameo in those bank ads a few years ago.
Transformers: Dark Of The Moon provides a crapulence-inducing serving of action, which is most definitely best experienced on the biggest screen possible. But at two in the morning with a belly full of Gin and Megatronics? Not so much.
