Transformers

“Transformers” is inspired by the Transformer toys that twist and fold and double in upon themselves, like a Rubik’s Cube crossed with a contortionist. A yellow Camaro unfolds into a hulking robot, helicopters become walking death monsters, and an enemy named Megatron rumbles onto the screen and, in a voice that resembles the sound effects in “Earthquake,” introduces himself: “I–AM–MEGATRON!!!”
Michael Bay may be the ideal director for this sort of project. With an obsessive attention to detail and the ability to make narrative sense out of complete balderdash, he gives “Transformers” a pacing and drive the story never really merits. Some scenes, notably those set in Qatar, seem darker and more violent than the target audience may expect. But most of “Transformers” is pitched at a lighthearted level just below parody. The likeable LaBeouf and manic Turturro supply some pleasant humor, while Fox is photographed so lovingly that she could divert even pre-adolescents from the whirring, clanking junk heaps that dominate the film.
If you never fell under the spell of “Transformers” as a child, this will be the most gratuitous film, an adrenalized, testosterone-heavy stew of petrochemical-derived mayhem. But if you grew up imagining life with Ratchet, Ironhide, Bonecrusher and all their robot friends, Transformers could be just what you’ve been waiting for.