It's worth trying to understand why a cinema like this exists and thrives. It would be easy to stand on an ivory tower and judge from above, cutting off any discussion like a sickle that levels all blades of grass, making no distinctions. Surely, films like these do not stimulate our minds, they do not make us reflect, they do not demand cognitive efforts. But they do something if it is true that we are at the sixth or seventh chapter of a saga that counts billions in earnings.
What happens in the mind of the spectators during those two or three hours in front of the big screen? If the synapses aren't racing to understand themes, to explore plots, perhaps they're doing something else. In this specific case, I think I've identified some elements.
There is sight, first of all. Vision is never a trivial aspect for the seventh art, and here one can enjoy exploring with the eyes those strange metallic architectures that make up the much-maligned alien robots. It’s something, whether it's the transformations or the design of these absurd contraptions, avidly watching that scrap metal somehow satisfies, it's not a secondary aspect.
In the case of this title, there is a second significant factor. Cinema, an art experiencing a challenging time regarding the management of substantial funds (after the cinecomic revolution, which however is on the decline), increasingly relies on nostalgia to ensure reassuring revenues. It's almost become a genre in itself, tickling the memories of those who were kids twenty years ago. It's no coincidence that films about Barbie, Super Mario, and so on are being released. In my case, I was curious to see again those "Beast Wars" for which I would wake up at 6 am, at ten years old, just to enjoy the episodes on TV.
The rest follows naturally. Such simple plots do nothing but strictly follow Propp's functions, so as not to detract too much effort from the ecstatic vision and the emotional wave of nostalgia that once again reignites. There’s then a corollary of factors that simply follow current trends: the prevailing black culture (two African American protagonists), the overcoming of the woman-as-object with a protagonist far from the classic Megan Fox; a certain underlying exoticism that takes us to South America, even touching (clumsily) on environmental themes (coexisting with indigenous peoples in hut villages).
There is an emotion that comes forward, simple, maybe gaudy, supported by scaffolding that plays it safe, in both stories and settings. I didn't feel robbed of those 4 or 5 euros, but I thought that the care devoted to graphics and design could be partly used to refine even those elements deemed secondary by the major studios. For instance: the street language of the reckless protagonist should not become caricatured; the "ethnological" watermark should be better appreciated, not merely tossed onto the buffet table; the classic narrative structures should be more adeptly utilized to avoid inconsistencies that slightly jarring.
In short, the circus of giant robots can exist, it has its specific sense, but what is asked is to invest a few more dollars also in writing, because such a sparkling aesthetic weave (for those who appreciate it) risks being unraveled by poorly conceived or poorly unfolded stories. Spend some money on the screenwriters (it’s no coincidence that they recently organized a major strike). Come on!
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