There was a time when summer popcorn fare was genuinely exciting and not just empty fodder for vacant minds. During the dog days when everyone starts to hit that mid-year rut, venturing out to the theater not only served as a welcome respite from the heat but also to reinvigorate lethargic souls with film’s signature brand of escapism, not just sublimate them in a dark room with strangers. No one necessarily considered Independence Day or Speed high art, but they possessed a certain creative verve that fulfilled their intentions: entertaining cinematic spectacle crafted with integrity.
Directed by Steven Caple Jr. of Creed II fame and serving as a soft reboot for the franchise inspired by the Hasbro line of mecha toys, Transformers: Rise of the Beasts seeks to atone for the Michael Bay portions of the series, whose exceedingly bombastic and dour stylings were initially financially profitable but eventually grew tiresome for audiences, and pivot from 2018’s Bumblebee, a delightful ‘80s romp and riff on E.T. that failed to fully commercially connect. But in attempting to generate the most agreeable blockbuster possible for this fraught populace, Caple Jr., Hasbro and company succumb to some of the worst pitfalls in this era of anonymous, IP-driven filmmaking. At least the Bay movies had a personality beneath all the gluttonous explosions and crass humor.
At a minimum, Rise of the Beasts acquired the proper star power, even if they’re enmeshed in hackneyed mythology. The endlessly charismatic Anthony Ramos (who was absolutely sensational in 2021’s In the Heights) headlines as Noah, a scrappy ex-military technology expert struggling to support his mother and younger brother, who is afflicted with sickle cell disease, in an oppressed community in 1994 Brooklyn; experiencing blatant profiling and being unable to find a job, he tries to steal a Porsche 911, which turns out to be an Autobot named Mirage (voiced by Pete Davidson) in disguise, to make ends meet.
Meanwhile, Dominique Fishback (who was robbed of an Oscar nomination for her stirring work in Judas and the Black Messiah) stars as Elena, a brilliant yet sidelined museum intern who secretly investigates a mysterious artifact; this (and I hope you’re still with me) reveals itself to be half of a cosmic portal called the Transwarp Key, which the Maximals, a different species of alien mechs that morph into animals rather than the revving automobile Autobots, used to escape the nefarious clutches of planet eater Unicron and his acolytes the Terrorcons before becoming marooned on Earth for thousands of years. One changes into a cheetah, another a falcon. Their leader becomes a huge metal gorilla and is named Optimus Primal. Cool, right?
Naturally, this attracts the attention of the Autobots, also trapped here for centuries, and their world-weary leader Optimus Prime (voiced by Peter Cullen, returning), and after an attack by the Terrorcons that results in the key’s theft, Noah and Elena’s paths collide as they are recruited by the desperate clan of robots to locate the other half so they can finally return home. The plot mechanics and storytelling trappings are about as rote as they seem, so mechanical like the titular androids at the center that you can practically anticipate a beat before it even occurs; however, these bits don’t coalesce into a sleek, cutting-edge sports car or roaring 18-wheeler, since they’re leftover jalopy parts like generic quips, a trite McGuffin, boilerplate dialogue and superficially defined villains who spout lines like “rip the flesh off their bones” and “brave but futile.”
What begins as a fresh perspective for this franchise is squandered for these obvious blockbuster tropes that are not boundary-pushing but were preemptively approved by a board room of Paramount executives. Though not incendiary, Caple Jr. brings an energizing hip-hop aesthetic evocative of ‘90s Brooklyn in this first act as he presents two marginalized lead characters who must act against the grain of a society that stifles people of color. These are interesting initial characterizations, but their execution ultimately registers as shallow, treated as a means to an end and almost entirely disregarded when the first clash of CGI masses erupts at the tail end of the film’s first third.
Not necessarily being a bad thing, Caple Jr. seems like a director for hire rather than a wholly distinctive auteur, doing a respectable enough impression of Ryan Coogler for the Creed sequel that put him on the map. The issue here is that he is following a far less inspired playbook, hired to churn out a bankable yet vacuous movie like Marvel’s most amorphous offerings (This actually excludes Coogler’s thrilling Black Panther films); with the crux of the movie being the introduction of the Maximals, their re-introduction over halfway into the movie and some other reveals at the end appear to be another attempt at an expanded cinematic universe instead of something that exists on its own terms. Sure, it is glossy and easily digestible summer fare with two winsome actors, inoffensive to the point of being utterly forgettable, and the action is even coherently assembled, unlike the cacophonous and overly busy staging of the Bay films.
Nonetheless, what ensues doesn’t have a voice but the general impression of one. Without fully realized roots in characters, we are too often left to experience the movie through the artificial visages of Optimus and the gang. Bumblebee embraced the inherent silliness of the property while grounding it in a genuinely earnest and complete arc of its human character; the Bay movies grew increasingly lugubrious, but they at least opted for a tone. Transformers: Rise of the Beasts takes itself a little too seriously to be brazenly inane fun and is too unassumingly crafted to be taken seriously. Surprisingly, Davidson might be the only cast member to understand the clear absurdity of aliens who transform into cars that try to pummel each other into heaps of scrap metal, delivering a freewheelingly goofy and refreshingly self-aware vocal performance.
Without a real identity to frame its convoluted mythos and backstories, the movie often comes across as embellished nonsense, and the worst part is how oblivious it is to the entire ordeal. When the Maximals finally return, it is too little too late, ironic for the enormity of the creatures onscreen, as they directly challenge the jaded philosophy of Optimus and insist on fervently protecting humanity. This draws a parallel between him and Noah as two lost souls grappling with the precarious meaning of “home.” There are even some shades of Chloé Zhao’s Eternals with a thin attempt to harness naturalistic settings as the action moves to Peru and alludes to some sort of vaguely humanistic message about unity. Of course, this is just another rickety transition to a third act battle as the clans finally unify to save Earth from the Terrorcons. Shocker, I know, but Caple Jr. does use mostly real locations throughout as opposed to hollow green screen.
Having a formula is fine, but what is sorely missing from these modern blockbusters is a sense of awe. When Noah has that fateful meeting with a real, living galactic being, there is scant wonder to be had as the movie is beholden to the next banal set piece or lore setup. Great movies are supposed to be symbiotic with their audiences, and when one is so mindless, you just sit there similarly in a torpor as your eyes glaze over and something as mythical as this should be immediately evaporates from your conscious. As Mirage hurtles down the Brooklyn bridge in car mode, he reconfigures in shape as Noah sits inside bearing witness to this metamorphosis. Through no fault of Ramos, he doesn’t seem to feel anything. You won’t, either.
Grade: C
Transformers: Rise of the Beasts is now available in theaters.
Photo Credit/Paramount
