Directed by:
Michael BayCinematography:
Jonathan SelaComposer:
Steve JablonskyCast:
Mark Wahlberg, Anthony Hopkins, Josh Duhamel, Laura Haddock, Isabela Merced, Santiago Cabrera, John Turturro, Stanley Tucci, Peter Cullen, Jean Dujardin (more)VOD (4)
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The Last Knight shatters the core myths of the Transformers franchise, and redefines what it means to be a hero. Humans and Transformers are at war, Optimus Prime is gone. The key to saving our future lies buried in the secrets of the past, in the hidden history of Transformers on Earth. Saving our world falls upon the shoulders of an unlikely alliance: Cade Yeager (Mark Wahlberg); Bumblebee; an English Lord (Sir Anthony Hopkins); and an Oxford Professor (Laura Haddock). There comes a moment in everyone's life when we are called upon to make a difference. In Transformers: The Last Knight, the hunted will become heroes. Heroes will become villains. Only one world will survive: theirs, or ours. (Paramount Pictures)
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Reviews (13)
That hurt. Transformers is really going downhill and it's one of the few franchises I've become sick of and I wish they wouldn't make another film. The two and a half hours drag on like a brick wall, Anthony Hopkins is annoying, the kids are uninteresting, the story is very flat, I have no idea what the hell was going on, the script is a mess, it's like the studio was scrapping and slapping in everything they could think of. There isn't that much action, and you watch the finale with an annoyed aftertaste and a sore ass. The only good thing is the opening battle with King Arthur, which had a hell of a lot of balls, and I really hope Michael Bay takes a break from the robots and serves us a proper medieval battle instead, where I believe he'd rip everyone's balls off. Unfortunately I didn't have much fun either, at least Isabel Moner was nice to look at. 45%
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Michael Bay has finally eradicated even the last remnants of his greatest enemy: logic. He serves us a divine 151 minutes of eclectic spewing of unspoken / discontinuous motifs. This is finally an abstraction that was only in its infancy in the previous half-timing hypnagogic installation. A spectacular ADHD attack that begins at the end and then progresses to an admitted self-parody. At the same time, it contains the mutated bacteria of several films, which the director's feverishly working mind will never allow to overcome the embryonic stage and moves on. Bay's ability to move in the narrative chaos and find a robotic order in it is liberating to surreal. Finally! The first film that gives the impression that it was created by a combination of a random generator of trending motifs and a wonderfully ill human mind. It may seem like a recession on my part, but I mean it. Compared to Transformers 5, other blockbusters feel like a careful game of certainty. I couldn't tear myself away from this eruption of confusing, yet strictly arranged shapes; I wasn't bored for even a second. The best, most detached and strangest Bay film. I urge anyone who gives it five stars to call me on the secret line. I will pass them on silently to Witwicky. They are the people of the future. Or the people of a world that will never happen. Robots write human history and chat with John Turturro on Cuban beaches. All the power to imagination and Optimus!
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Under Michael Bay’s direction, Transformers has gradually crystallised into a supremely atypical contribution to the current line of franchise blockbusters. All of the other films based on comic books or toys take heed to offer adult fans a spectacle that, though childish at its core, is supposed to give the impression of being grown-up and serious in its overall execution (from the screenplays and casting to the style of promotion). Conversely, Bay serves up the exact opposite – ultra-unserious, openly irreverent and ridiculously overblown spectacles packed with affectation and kitsch. Even though this is indeed largely due to his bombastic, egomaniacal and macho nature, this is not some sort of desecration of the original franchise’s original form, but rather a faithful return to its roots and a reminder of what those who were weaned on the original series no longer want to admit. While the comic-book producers are rewriting history with new reboots that erase all of the inadequate aspects of the earlier incarnations, Bay’s Transformers seems to make a point of accentuating all of the haphazardness, degeneracy and problematic aspects of the 1980s that the nerds have already blissfully erased from their memory. But that’s actually how Transformers used to be. Only the question remains of whether Bay’s grasp of the franchise, which accentuates all of those residual ills, represents continuity with conscious subversiveness or whether Bay simply and fundamentally personifies them by coincidence. ____ There has been much discussion about how unfortunate acting icons and prominent character actors, like Sir Anthony Hopkins in this case, are forced to demean themselves (in return for a generous payday) in Transformers movies by cartoonishly making faces and delivering absurd monologues. That fits beautifully into the image of Bay as a desecrator of all values, but again, we can also see this as part of the franchise’s heritage. Eric Idle, Leonard Nimoy and Orson Welles took turns at the microphone for the first animated feature, while giant robots danced to Weird Al Yankovic’s “Dare to Be Stupid” and the movie’s most epic moment was underscored by Stan Bush’s cheesy rocker “The Touch”. ___ Bay can be seen as both a mainstream John Waters and a Hollywood version of Czech trashmaker Zdeněk Troška – a perverted admirer of conventional vulgarity and consumerist gluttony, but also a self-proclaimed promoter of traditional values. As in Troška’s case, in Bay’s works the authorities and scientists take the form of hysterically incompetent jacks-in-the-box, while the arrogant earthy heroes seemingly save everything, but are also portrayed as equally ridiculous, aggressive and sociopathic characters who treat each other with disdain. We associate Bay’s films with rampant ridiculousness, but are executed with an almost obsessive degree of craftsmanship. It’s thus all the more surprising that the coarseness and vulgarity of the preceding films is not present this time, at least not in such an obvious form. This surely has something to do with the fact that, for the first time, the screenwriting has caught up with, or even surpassed, Bay himself. From one instalment to the next, the series goes more against the grain and becomes gaudier and more absurd. Previously, it was enough for Bay to employ his own whims – whether shots of the Transformer’s testicles, the appendage reaching around the car and hitting a soldier in the face, or the malevolent objectification of Megan Fox in the first film, which successfully degrades the only positively depicted and active character in the whole series simply by how she’s captured on camera and how the other characters react to her. This time, however, the screenplay finally cast off the shackles and comes up with a phantasmagorical alternate history of the Transformers that is so wonderfully boorish that not even Bay can vulgarise it any further. Thanks to the screenplay, the film breaks away from the run-of-the-mill globetrotting nature of blockbusters, where photogenic exotic locations are supposed to bring the desired wow factor to the action. Instead of moving through space, it goes against the flow of time and, what’s more, does so without the shackles of reality and causality. Whereas Avengers: Endgame used this technique to express sentimental reverence, Transformers sets out like Monty Python to disparage (Stanley Tucci as the overwrought Merlin is extremely reminiscent of John Cleese’s acting performances). Paradoxically – judging by the reactions – viewers are willing to celebrate Tarantino’s playing around with historical figures and periods and to have fun with alternate histories like Iron Sky and even Wonder Woman, but for some reason they unreasonably demand realism and seriousness from Bay and his movies about giant robots financed by a toy company. ___ Under Bay’s direction, the ultimate perverse power of the blockbuster emerges in a work that devours itself to the point of being execrable. Except that Bay’s fifth Transformers is no mushy turd, but rather a turd with flawless structure, density and shape. Yes, it’s overblown, bombastic, megalomaniacal and silly, but thanks to that and the extent of those essential qualities, it is also perfect and beautiful. As it explosively blasts through the boundaries of corporate product, the fifth Transformers is the most unrestrained and, at its core, the most original blockbuster of the new millennium. Though there is some truth in the notion that Michael Bay has only been making variations of the same model throughout his career, we see in the level of craftsmanship of the scenes here that he is still stratifying his experiences while outdoing himself with new challenges. Much has been said and written about Bay’s editing and camera compositions, but little is made of the fact that, despite the tremendous amount of CGI, he creates the bulk of the action on set, thanks to which his action scenes have such an amazing physical dimension and tremendous wow effect. ___ Michael Bay is actually the anti-Nolan. While the creator of Inception and Tenet offers viewers intellectual blockbusters in which the spectacle is both sensual and cerebral, Bay delivers an overwhelming, bombastic overload of polished and ambitiously executed stupidity, shallowness, kitsch and pathos. The fifth Transformers completely bypasses the viewers’ rationality and values and aims straight for the depths of the unconscious to absolutely satisfy their needs with maximum degeneracy and gluttony. Bay serves us pure blockbuster bacchanalia.
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Michael Bay goes on and on and on, and this fifth episode might give you the impression that you are watching the fourth or the third. The originality is gone, so is the scriptwriting inventiveness and, unfortunately, the initial charm and idea too. Wahlberg does his thing, and every episode has a hot chick in the mix – it's almost like a Bond tradition. One can't deny the visually pompous finale and the intended self-parody, but the intertwining of the story with the Knights of the Round Table, well, that was a bit too much, even by Hollywood standards. On top of that, the ending hints at one or two more episodes. God help us all.
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The fifth outing of the Transformers is more spectacular, more over-the-top, more daring and more bombastic than ever before. Screenwriting-wise, it's again a solid piece of crap, but for once it's taken it up another level and pulls the Knights of the Round Table, Merlin and Stonehenge into the Transformers mythology, making it feel at times like a rip-off of The Da Vinci Code, National Treasure and their ilk. I was amused by a couple of scenes with the immortal butler, whereas with Anthony Hopkins I wondered all along if he even needed a similar role. The minor role of the returning John Turturro was mostly unnecessary. Overall, it was an audiovisual orgy with no soul that too often wallowed in opacity. Besides, by the end I was sick of the repetitive "I am Optimus Prime!" and all the other delicious lines that abounded throughout the film. I also resented the rather untapped potential of Quintessa.
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Photo © Paramount Pictures
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