Film review: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

THERE'S a scene in Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen, the bigger, louder, longer sequel to the already amply amped-up 2007 summer blockbuster, that pretty much sums up the likely effect it will have on its target audience. The scene in question features the film's hero, Sam Witwicky (Shia LeBeouf), the nerdy geek-boy with the super-hot girlfriend who helped to save the world from destruction last time out. It's his first day in college and, in the middle of his astronomy class, he starts flipping out. Bug-eyed and blinking like a maniac, he starts speed-reading his text book, before jumping up in front of the class and jabbering nonsense to his professor while frantically scribbling ancient Egyptian symbols all over the blackboard. He looks how you imagine someone might with too much Ritalin running through their system. Hyper-alert. Jittery. Over-stimulated. In other words, he looks exactly how the average 12-year-old might look after they get a load of everything director Michael Bay has in store for them in Transformers 2.

Though no fan of Bay's absolute belief in the maxim that more is more (for me, he made the perfect summer blockbuster with The Rock and everything since has been virtually unwatchable), it's hard not to admire his chutzpah this time round. Unencumbered by a tortuous mythology or, indeed, the traditions of narrative filmmaking (there's a token plot involving a long dormant machine called the "The Matrix of Leadership" that might spell the end for the Earth, but I defy anyone past puberty to try to make sense of it), what Bay serves up is 147 explosion-filled minutes (yes, it really is that long) dedicated to the idea of making metal-mashing mayhem fun. Whether you find it fun will once again depend largely on which age bracket you fall into. Bay seems to reckon audiences can handle relentless action, and that's what he delivers. The only consistent performances he requires are from his effects team, and they mostly deliver this time (unlike last time).

The effects really are astonishing. They've been perfectly integrated with their real world location-work in Tokyo, Egypt, Paris the US, and an array of new battle-bots has been recruited to keep the frame full at all times. Animal-style Decepticons (they're the bad guys) tussle with the virtuous peace-keeping Autobots (led by Optimus Prime), and, in what might be a dig at what once looked like this film's main competition, Terminator Salvation, some of the machines even take human form – transforming into hot co-eds out to seduce LaBeouf's Sam and retrieve from his head whatever spurious plot-advancing information he's carrying.

Even so, Bay doesn't bother trying to top the wow factor found in his lead actress, Megan Fox. In a bit of unabashed cinematic ogling likely to make junior fanboys the world over feel a bit funny in the trouser department, his camera repeatedly lingers over her torso as she lingers over, well, just about anything. Its pretty shameless, but it's dropped in at the start as a little nod to her intro in the first film, allowing her to quickly get on with the business of being an ass-kicking action heroine. Like Angelina Jolie before her, Fox is too canny an actress to think this is anything other than blockbuster trash, so she makes the best of the situation, has fun and dominates LaBeouf whenever they share screen time.

Still, as much fun as you want the film to deliver, its successes are usually sabotaged by Bay's baby-brained sense of humour. He seems to find the idea of throwing inappropriate sexual references into the mix endlessly hilarious. If it's not a mini transformer humping Megan Fox's leg, it's a shot of a pair of wrecking balls suggestively attached to the mega-sized Devestator to give the impression it has titanium testes. Honestly, Bay seems more like a toddler who has just discovered his own private parts than a film director.

The presence of a load of new rascally robots clearly modelled on the havoc-raising critters from Gremlins only highlights how unambitious he's been in terms of the style of comedy he deploys. This is a film based on a range of toys, yet Bay does nothing with this. He doesn't poke fun at its origins; he doesn't risk biting the hand that feeds him by making cracks about Hollywood's reliance on this kind of product for survival; he doesn't even try to follow through on the slapstick tone he adopts throughout, choosing to revert to his default cheese setting and expecting us suddenly to start lapping up some truly sickly family melodrama.

The only vaguely postmodern thing he does is throw in self-serving, groan-worthy nods to his previous movies, much like he did with the first film. Now, compare this with Gremlins 2: The New Batch, one of the most out-of-control and hilarious subversive pictures of the blockbuster era, and you really see what the Transformers films lack. That was a movie that mocked its predecessor, mocked all the merchandising associated with it and even mocked itself for cashing in on its success. It was anarchic and hip; Transformers 2 is conservative and flip. Bay may have the skills to deliver thrills, and he certainly has the audacity to spend hundreds of millions of dollars providing audiences with megawatt instant gratification. But he doesn't have the smarts to make something that sticks in the memory past the end credits.

CRITIC'S CHOICE

DARREN ARONOFSKY: IN PERSON

Cineworld, Edinburgh, 22 June

THERE'S plenty to check out at this year's Edinburgh International Film Festival over the next week, but getting the chance to see Darren Aronofsky chat about his brief, but mostly brilliant, career to date should be fascinating, particularly since he's currently riding high off the back of The Wrestler.

Tel. 0131-623 8030/ www.ed filmfest.org.uk