Reviewsday
You’re in your office, chugging down a cup of coffee when your partner pops in: “Room 2. You gotta hear this”. In a flash you’re behind a bright lamp and before a seedy “perp”. He spins you his story, laying down a series of events and insisting that this is how it “really happened”. But you’re not convinced. So you get up and head next-door, coming face to face with his partner in crime. And you’d better believe he has his side of the story to play.
Watching the Michael Bay directed and Steven Spielberg produced Transformers is faintly akin to this experience. There is more here then meets the eye. Up front we have director Michael Bay’s Transformers, and hanging in the rear is producer Steven Spielberg’s Transformers. And unfortunately, only one story is true…only one film is “right”.
Bay’s Transformers revolves around Josh Duhamel and his motley crew of soldiers, battling Decepticons in the Mid East. Like the original series, it isn’t really much more then a trumped up commercial (this time to get kids to join the Army). But to be fair, there is an overarching plot: These lone American troops must trudge through the desert with a Decepticon hot on their tail and attempt to reestablish communications with the military.
Okay, Now…
Spielberg’s version of Transformers focuses upon Shia LaBeouf as a young teen recently in the market for his first car. After wheeling and dealing with his dad and attempting to pawn off some old crap his grandfather left behind, he comes into possession of a transformer masquerading as a second generation Camaro.
While the two stories eventually cross paths, there are still some very distinct qualities to both.
Bay’s Transformers is not unlike his other works: it has an inhuman feel to it. It’s loud. And it’s expensive-looking. Its coldness is faintly covered up by shallow, canned moments like Duhamel telling his wife how much he misses her. Such humanity is secondary in a juggernaut of explosions, characteristically tied together by a vague patriotic air.
The second half of the film, Spielberg’s version, plays upon a set of clichés every bit as distinct as Bay’s: An idealistic male is trapped in a world that doesn’t quite accept him…that same kid “transforms” into a hero through his special bond with a mysterious power. Why, there are even embarrassing moments with the parents. It’s great. Throw in a shark and we’re there.
With such distinctions I think the best way to illustrate the winner is by contrasting two similarly themed scenes - At the start of the flick, Duhamel and his characters get a first glimpse of a Decepticon as it trashes the base they’re operating from. Their reaction is shock, terror and amazement. Sort of.
The way Bay presents that moment is pretty broad. We’re treated to more shots of the base exploding and people dying than reactions and personalities of this small unit.
Contrast that with the reactions given when LaBeouf’s character along with his romantic interest (played by Megan Fox) discovers that LaBeouf’s car is a massive robot. There isn’t nearly as much fan fare as with Duhamel. Instead, there is a quiet scene where the two characters are driven home by the transformer. Fox’s character, afraid to sit in front with a steering wheel that is steering itself, instead opts to sit on LaBeouf’s lap.
It’s a nice little moment…it’s a Spielberg moment. You get a very personal scene where the heroes learn about this great alien force, and while they’re at it, there is some romantic tension.
What I’m driving at here, if you haven’t guessed already, is that some of this movie works *cough*Spielberg*cough* and some of it doesn’t.
…
And just sitting in the audience, you felt the half of the story dealing with LaBeouf worked, while the half focusing upon government decryption, battles in the desert and a very unfortunate showing of Jon Voight, didn’t.
Sure, even I can admit that gigantic robots raise a film to a level where you just stop talking about the story and start ogling how “bad ass” everything is (A particularly exciting sequence has one transformer chasing LaBeouf and Fox down a winding L.A. freeway, only to transform mid-chase into a robot and continue the pursuit on-foot). And don’t think they miss the opportunity to play up some of that nostalgia either. When the robots transform, there is that delightful surge of electronic noise. Robots and humans alike are given cartoony dialogue. And YES, Peter Cullen is the voice of Optimus Prime.
Unfortunately, the film is thick. Very thick. There is a good 40 to 50 minutes that don’t need to be here…and I think you’d get a sense of what I’d cut out.
The script? Basically nothing more then a harvested version of the Independence Day script. The acting? LaBeouf and Cullen are pretty much the best in that regard. Fox was adequate, but I suspect she slept with Bay to land her role. The rest of the actors range from maudlin to poor. Several characters for that matter seemed extraneous: we’ve got about 9 major players, not counting the transformers, who each get considerable screen time. Truthfully, this film only needs about 5 major characters.
Aside from all that, the film is still quite a spectacle. It’s worth your cash on technical merits alone. And while Michael Bay isn’t hitting the set with All the President’s Men in his repertoire, this is the best film he has produced. Hell, at the least, I’m sure it’ll be on Criterion.
A plethora of “politicos” claim disdain for Michael Moore. On what basis? On the basis that he is a bad filmmaker. They say he’s manipulative, simplistic and divisive. Personally, I think such claims are true, but does that mean he’s a bad filmmaker?
Actually, no. These complaints only prove that he’s a pretty damned good filmmaker.
With documentaries like Roger and Me, Bowling for Columbine and Fahrenheit 9-11, Moore has successfully employed a number of filmic devices in an attempt to manipulate the emotions and opinions of his audience. Wrong? Perhaps. But, the fact that he is highly successful at it only cements him as one of the better filmmakers working today.
Still, Mr. Moore took a cue from his detractors when he set out to make Sicko, his first attempt at a crowd-pleaser (if such a denomination could be applied to his works). Rather than resorting to confrontational rants on camera, Moore focuses his efforts towards a series of stories about individuals who suffered as a result of the flawed health care system. And while he finally does appear on camera to examine the health care of other countries, he is less venomous then his previous incarnations. Yes, this is Michael Moore trying to relate to everybody.
And I do think it pays off.
With Sicko, Moore has created his most enjoyable film to date. Crossed with a playful sense of humor and tragedy, Sicko is a story that affects everyone, in this land and in others. Fittingly therefore, the film takes no outright political stance in presenting its opinions. It simply gives us the human side of this charged debate. Ludicrous examples of a man having to decide whether or not to reattach his ring finger or his index finger are juxtaposed against somber tales like an aged couple having to move into their daughter’s storage room after losing their house to medical bills. It’s mildly exploitive, sure, but it’s still just people telling their story into the camera. With these stories and others, Moore manages to present a very convincing argument against the American health care industry…an industry he colors as greedy and defrauding (although, with Nixon backing privatized health over secret audio recordings, such an industry paints itself as greedy regardless of Moore’s help).
And then we get on a plane to Europe. It is at this point when the film takes a turn for the worse. Colorful jaunts through the City of Lights have Moore popping into hospitals and pharmacies and asking how much this treatment costs, how much that drug will set him back. And the answers are all the same: Nothing.
I half expected Moore to look into the camera at one point and exclaim, “Golly!”
Instead, he continues his trek through various countries, running fast and loose with the facts in an attempt to glaze over possible downsides (such as taxes, dated equipment and long waits).
Unfortunately, this portion of the film is far less convincing then the first half. And why wouldn’t it be? Michael Moore talking to zoned out hospital attendants just doesn’t fly as well as documented facts on American politicians and their HMO's.
The height of Moore’s fantasy presentation of foreign healthcare comes with a trip to Cuba. When he arrives, he manages to get his sick friends decent treatment. I wanted to practically stand up in my chair and scream, “You’ve got to be kidding me!" The whole thing feels staged and phony.
The final gem comes when Moore learns that his strongest critic is forced to shut down his Anti-Michael Moore website in order to pay for his wife’s health care. “Generously”, Michael steps in by signing an anonymous check to keep the hate flowing.
Riiight…
Sicko ultimately isn’t real. It isn’t sound. What it is is an enticing argument against a flawed system, one that should be considered by all people, regardless of political views or lack thereof. Yes, it is manipulative work. It is part of a long line of manipulative works that Moore has presented in an attempt to change the latest injustice. That’s all true and that’s all irrelevant. What you should be asking yourself is “Will he accomplish anything with Sicko?” I hope so. This is a flawed, but important collection of alarming truths about a system claiming to have your best interests at heart.
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