Transformers, No. 1 - The Transformers: The Movie (1986)

It is every film blogger’s occasional joy to run across a complete blind spot. Given my age, interests, and the never-ending rants of the ever-expanding nerds I went to college with, I am somehow a deeply lesser human being for having never seen The Transformers: The Movie – to go by the nerds’ wizened jabberings, the single greatest animated film conceivable.

Actually, I had next to nothing to do with the Transformers brand growing up, except for a few toys I think I must’ve burgled from somebody. But do not weep for a childhood that never happened, because every young boy has two possible career options: be a giant truck, or a dinosaur. I was a dinosaur. My hosannas then and now go out to the almighty Turtles – Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, to the layman. That’s when I wasn’t intentionally wrecking my childhood with R-rated junk instead (e.g. RoboCop), so a single cartoon utterance of “Oh shit!” probably wouldn’t have even phased me.


Time to do my penance for pop cultural ignorance, and probe this Transformers trend…

It all began as a toy! In an eternal tale of inspiration, in 1984 Hasbro proved Orwell right and acquired preexisting molds from Japan (MicroChange, which spun-off from Diaclone, which spun-off from Microman, which spun-off from G.I. Joe). The toys: robots which could transform. Hasbro’s witty contribution was to call said transformers “Transmorphers” – er, no, “Transformers.”

Largish robots that can turn into cars, and vice versa – it’s a truck enthusiast’s automotive wet dream. To fuel and overwrite children’s playtime fantasies, Hasbro commissioned a story for their semi-Japanese-ish car-bot-itrons. These guys were involved: Jim Shooter, Dennis O’Neil, Bob Budiansky. (Through advance research, it seems I am a worthless scrap of meat for not knowing that a priori.) Thus there are two robot factions, the Autobots and the Decepticons, who battle each other…over energy resources. Despite seemingly interchangeable tactics, one side is good and angelic, and the other side as evil as Pazuzu. The Decepticons, because their innate ancestral name sounds like the English Earth word “deceive,” are the “bad” ones. And…let the hyperactive schoolboys choose their allegiances!


The toy line lead swiftly to a TV show, “The Transformers” (“Fight! Super Robot Life Form Transformer” in Japan, which is an infinitely cooler name). Plus, such publicity leads to more toys purchased, which a cynic without a childhood to rape (i.e. me) would point to as the ultimate goal. For this great mid-‘80s renaissance of product promotional programming, we can thank regulators for lifting a previous ban on such glorious capitalism. (Thanks to “G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero,” because you cannot oppose crass marketing in light of such patriotism!)

The show, by all evidence, explores the war twixt Autobots and Decepticons over the planet Cybertron. It is contemporarily set, with scant Earth humans from the Witwicky family in there not to be further toys (though who really knows), but to entice those weirdos not auto(bot)matically interested in robots. Robo-wise, the cast is massive, to reflect each and every toy available for purchase at your local participating toy emporium: Optimus Prime, Brawn, Bluestreak, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Gears, Hound, Huffer, Ironhide, Jazz, Mirage, Prowl, Ratchet, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, Wheeljack, Windcharger, Hauler, and those are only the good guys, and only from the pilot.


Imagine now, as we artlessly jump ahead to 1986’s big damn theatrical The Transformers: The Movie, an uninformed viewer suddenly plunged into a universe more overloaded than the one outlined above. This is the effect of attempting to watch The Movie now without proper grounding. As animated by Japan’s Toei (though an English-language American release), the Transformers characters are…difficult to tell apart. The movie makes no appeals to newbies, no effort at introductions or explanations. It is mostly by color that I can pick out at least the most important characters (Optimus, Megatron, Hot Rod, Starscream)…though one could complain similarly about the Turtles, I suppose.

The voice cast is really show-offy – among others, Peter Cullen, Judd Nelson, Leonard Nimoy, Robert Stack, Frank Welker, Eric Idle – in perhaps an effort to create some personality distinction. For whatever reason, the DVD’s vocal synch doesn’t work, so this one is screwed up – with hilarious results! Plus, stiff robot faces aren’t the most expressive, so it’s hard sometimes to know which head is yakking anyway.

I feel rather like Stan in “South Park’s” recent “You’re Getting Old” – exposed to entertainment so clearly not meant for me, as it’s both juvenile and instantly time-stamped. Everything throughout feels like the same bombastic visual and aural noise (no, I’m not yet reviewing the Michael Bay efforts). The Movie is no doubt designed for those consumers already initiated in the “Transformers” world – the “Generation 1” world specifically, though they didn’t know that at the time.


The animation is the perfect representative of “Super Robot Seizure Happy Time Hour” – flashing lights and visual dissonance, done with admittedly some budget for a mid-level Japanese 1986 production, but wholly cluttered to behold.

The soundtrack is inundated with period power ballads, and assorted sub-New Wave synth what-have-you. “The Touch,” Stan Bush’s central tune (originally meant, amusingly, for Stallone’s Cobra), is the sort of inspirational pap Daniel La Russo wouldn’t be caught dead training to. Plus, it’s sorta awesome. The entirety of every scene is pumped to full volume with it and similar noise, forever overpowering the hard efforts of the voice cast. (To say nothing of including “Weird Al” Yankovic’s “Dare to be Stupid,” which I like – because it’s “Weird Al” – but is wholly out-of-place near the climax of a self-serious American mecha monstrosity.)

Individually, the story works just like the songs or the visuals – that is, at 11, independently trying to overwhelm the senses with so much spectacle and event and detail that one is never able to get a grasp of what exactly is happening. Or at any rate, my laid back adult mind cannot do this – The whole of The Movie plays like the fever sugar rush babbling of an explosion-happy six-year-old, which no doubt explains its appeal to those who were that age in that year…a limited, niche audience, to be sure.


Here’s what I could figure out: The always-hungry, planet-devouring Unicron (voiced by the similarly omnivorous Orson Welles, who then died) threatens to destroy the peaceful tranquility of the Autobot-Decepticon war. It is also the distant future year of 2005 now, allowing for a heady combination of robots and hoverboards and prophetic Bush satire (okay, only the first two).

Meanwhile…okay, I think it’s all action sequences from here on out. Anyway, assorted cartoon robots launch special effects towards each other, eventually Unicron is turned into something else all explodey, and…a whole shitload of main characters die!


Okay, The Movie is famous for decimating the “Transformers” lineup, in a cruel act of attrition which utterly devastated many ‘80s boys – Imagine if you first learned about death through the passing of Optimus Prime. Seen in isolation, and with recourse to other period anime features with more decidedly mature tones, one (myself) barely grasps the gravity of all this. Part of it is…I sometimes cannot tell if someone is dying. Honestly, I think there’s something wrong with my brain, that the boundless, uncontrolled energy of The Movie is more confusing than the zanier efforts of a Lynch or a Cronenberg.

Besides, going in I already understood the true motive behind animated mass murder: TOYS! The Transformers: The Movie was put out in the summer between the second and third seasons of the TV show, which is a familiar pattern for – yes – the era’s anime films. (See, e.g., “InuYasha.”) The Movie is subservient to the show, which is subservient to the toy line – and toy lines must renew themselves with time, lest the eternal capitalist impulse dry up without new products. So while artistically the show might’ve wished to continue developing its established cast, each new toy means a new character, and it demands the removal of an old character.


So The Movie is really a filmed product announcement, one you have to pay to see. Only no child heading into theaters knew this – they simply knew they’d be seeing their favorite soulless robot heroes in a glorified adventure. Who’da thunk the freedoms of cinema (over kid-vid Saturday morning TV) meant mecha mortality.

And here are the new toys (er, characters) The Movie establishes: Hot Rod, Kup, Bluur, Arcee, Springer, Ultra Magnus, Wreck-Gar, Wheely, Steeljaw, Ramhorn, Eject, Rewind, the Sharkticons. (God, these names!) I get all this info from outside research, because there’s nothing in the film which makes it remotely that clear. Plus, certain former characters aren’t quite killed, but rather “promoted” into “new” consumer-dictated figurines: Megatron becomes Galvatron, and some other misspellings change as well.

And there’s something called the Matrix of Leadership, and I’m sure it makes sense if I could parse out its exposition over the cock rock. As it is, that just sounds like some phraseology from a business retreat.


“More than meets the eye.” “Robots in disguise.” The central concept of “Transformers” isn’t anathema to something a little less batshit nutsazoid. Robots hidden among us…this opens up a rich fantasy reverie, and is obviously the engine behind the ongoing franchise. Too bad the facts of toy production dictate continuous elaboration, which turns – in no time flat! – into lunacy. To capture a new market share, Hasbro invented new sub-lines of Transformers such as the Insecticons or the…er, the Dinosauriconobotics. (Sorry, “Dinobots.”) Also the Constructicons, and probably something called the Comiconitrons.

So…giant robots morphing into giant dinosaurs. It’s cool, in that reductive, maniac sort of way, but these ideas do rather undercut believability. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this overstuffed world was/is the appeal. Maybe it’s more fun to see gigantic robots on alien planets, where their scale is equivalent to the local architecture, as opposed to on Earth where they look massive. All these things which alienate me, which make me hear farting noises, could be what’s fun about the brand.

And moving on briefly beyond The Movie…“The Transformers” continued on TV for two more seasons. Assorted spinoffs then emerged in Japan, but we expect the Japanese to do silly things to begin with. The line bifurcated within the U.S. as well, creating numerous new animated shows and toy lines and comic book continuities, all distinct from each other, except when they’re not. To wit, there’s “Beast Wars,” “Robots in Disguise,” “Armada,” “Energon,” “Cyberton,” and something simply called “Transformers: Animated,” even though all of those are animated. And those are just – I think – the shows. All hail Hasbro, which develops ideas like tumors! Each new line is a chance for new customers – renewing a fan base is one approach, unlike most series which try to maintain a single audience long term.

And then there’s the live action franchise, which is a separate bag of bolts…

Transformers, No. 1 - The Transformers: The Movie (1986)

It is every film blogger’s occasional joy to run across a complete blind spot. Given my age, interests, and the never-ending rants of the ever-expanding nerds I went to college with, I am somehow a deeply lesser human being for having never seen The Transformers: The Movie – to go by the nerds’ wizened jabberings, the single greatest animated film conceivable.

Actually, I had next to nothing to do with the Transformers brand growing up, except for a few toys I think I must’ve burgled from somebody. But do not weep for a childhood that never happened, because every young boy has two possible career options: be a giant truck, or a dinosaur. I was a dinosaur. My hosannas then and now go out to the almighty Turtles – Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, to the layman. That’s when I wasn’t intentionally wrecking my childhood with R-rated junk instead (e.g. RoboCop), so a single cartoon utterance of “Oh shit!” probably wouldn’t have even phased me.


Time to do my penance for pop cultural ignorance, and probe this Transformers trend…

It all began as a toy! In an eternal tale of inspiration, in 1984 Hasbro proved Orwell right and acquired preexisting molds from Japan (MicroChange, which spun-off from Diaclone, which spun-off from Microman, which spun-off from G.I. Joe). The toys: robots which could transform. Hasbro’s witty contribution was to call said transformers “Transmorphers” – er, no, “Transformers.”

Largish robots that can turn into cars, and vice versa – it’s a truck enthusiast’s automotive wet dream. To fuel and overwrite children’s playtime fantasies, Hasbro commissioned a story for their semi-Japanese-ish car-bot-itrons. These guys were involved: Jim Shooter, Dennis O’Neil, Bob Budiansky. (Through advance research, it seems I am a worthless scrap of meat for not knowing that a priori.) Thus there are two robot factions, the Autobots and the Decepticons, who battle each other…over energy resources. Despite seemingly interchangeable tactics, one side is good and angelic, and the other side as evil as Pazuzu. The Decepticons, because their innate ancestral name sounds like the English Earth word “deceive,” are the “bad” ones. And…let the hyperactive schoolboys choose their allegiances!


The toy line lead swiftly to a TV show, “The Transformers” (“Fight! Super Robot Life Form Transformer” in Japan, which is an infinitely cooler name). Plus, such publicity leads to more toys purchased, which a cynic without a childhood to rape (i.e. me) would point to as the ultimate goal. For this great mid-‘80s renaissance of product promotional programming, we can thank regulators for lifting a previous ban on such glorious capitalism. (Thanks to “G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero,” because you cannot oppose crass marketing in light of such patriotism!)

The show, by all evidence, explores the war twixt Autobots and Decepticons over the planet Cybertron. It is contemporarily set, with scant Earth humans from the Witwicky family in there not to be further toys (though who really knows), but to entice those weirdos not auto(bot)matically interested in robots. Robo-wise, the cast is massive, to reflect each and every toy available for purchase at your local participating toy emporium: Optimus Prime, Brawn, Bluestreak, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Gears, Hound, Huffer, Ironhide, Jazz, Mirage, Prowl, Ratchet, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, Wheeljack, Windcharger, Hauler, and those are only the good guys, and only from the pilot.


Imagine now, as we artlessly jump ahead to 1986’s big damn theatrical The Transformers: The Movie, an uninformed viewer suddenly plunged into a universe more overloaded than the one outlined above. This is the effect of attempting to watch The Movie now without proper grounding. As animated by Japan’s Toei (though an English-language American release), the Transformers characters are…difficult to tell apart. The movie makes no appeals to newbies, no effort at introductions or explanations. It is mostly by color that I can pick out at least the most important characters (Optimus, Megatron, Hot Rod, Starscream)…though one could complain similarly about the Turtles, I suppose.

The voice cast is really show-offy – among others, Peter Cullen, Judd Nelson, Leonard Nimoy, Robert Stack, Frank Welker, Eric Idle – in perhaps an effort to create some personality distinction. For whatever reason, the DVD’s vocal synch doesn’t work, so this one is screwed up – with hilarious results! Plus, stiff robot faces aren’t the most expressive, so it’s hard sometimes to know which head is yakking anyway.

I feel rather like Stan in “South Park’s” recent “You’re Getting Old” – exposed to entertainment so clearly not meant for me, as it’s both juvenile and instantly time-stamped. Everything throughout feels like the same bombastic visual and aural noise (no, I’m not yet reviewing the Michael Bay efforts). The Movie is no doubt designed for those consumers already initiated in the “Transformers” world – the “Generation 1” world specifically, though they didn’t know that at the time.


The animation is the perfect representative of “Super Robot Seizure Happy Time Hour” – flashing lights and visual dissonance, done with admittedly some budget for a mid-level Japanese 1986 production, but wholly cluttered to behold.

The soundtrack is inundated with period power ballads, and assorted sub-New Wave synth what-have-you. “The Touch,” Stan Bush’s central tune (originally meant, amusingly, for Stallone’s Cobra), is the sort of inspirational pap Daniel La Russo wouldn’t be caught dead training to. Plus, it’s sorta awesome. The entirety of every scene is pumped to full volume with it and similar noise, forever overpowering the hard efforts of the voice cast. (To say nothing of including “Weird Al” Yankovic’s “Dare to be Stupid,” which I like – because it’s “Weird Al” – but is wholly out-of-place near the climax of a self-serious American mecha monstrosity.)

Individually, the story works just like the songs or the visuals – that is, at 11, independently trying to overwhelm the senses with so much spectacle and event and detail that one is never able to get a grasp of what exactly is happening. Or at any rate, my laid back adult mind cannot do this – The whole of The Movie plays like the fever sugar rush babbling of an explosion-happy six-year-old, which no doubt explains its appeal to those who were that age in that year…a limited, niche audience, to be sure.


Here’s what I could figure out: The always-hungry, planet-devouring Unicron (voiced by the similarly omnivorous Orson Welles, who then died) threatens to destroy the peaceful tranquility of the Autobot-Decepticon war. It is also the distant future year of 2005 now, allowing for a heady combination of robots and hoverboards and prophetic Bush satire (okay, only the first two).

Meanwhile…okay, I think it’s all action sequences from here on out. Anyway, assorted cartoon robots launch special effects towards each other, eventually Unicron is turned into something else all explodey, and…a whole shitload of main characters die!


Okay, The Movie is famous for decimating the “Transformers” lineup, in a cruel act of attrition which utterly devastated many ‘80s boys – Imagine if you first learned about death through the passing of Optimus Prime. Seen in isolation, and with recourse to other period anime features with more decidedly mature tones, one (myself) barely grasps the gravity of all this. Part of it is…I sometimes cannot tell if someone is dying. Honestly, I think there’s something wrong with my brain, that the boundless, uncontrolled energy of The Movie is more confusing than the zanier efforts of a Lynch or a Cronenberg.

Besides, going in I already understood the true motive behind animated mass murder: TOYS! The Transformers: The Movie was put out in the summer between the second and third seasons of the TV show, which is a familiar pattern for – yes – the era’s anime films. (See, e.g., “InuYasha.”) The Movie is subservient to the show, which is subservient to the toy line – and toy lines must renew themselves with time, lest the eternal capitalist impulse dry up without new products. So while artistically the show might’ve wished to continue developing its established cast, each new toy means a new character, and it demands the removal of an old character.


So The Movie is really a filmed product announcement, one you have to pay to see. Only no child heading into theaters knew this – they simply knew they’d be seeing their favorite soulless robot heroes in a glorified adventure. Who’da thunk the freedoms of cinema (over kid-vid Saturday morning TV) meant mecha mortality.

And here are the new toys (er, characters) The Movie establishes: Hot Rod, Kup, Bluur, Arcee, Springer, Ultra Magnus, Wreck-Gar, Wheely, Steeljaw, Ramhorn, Eject, Rewind, the Sharkticons. (God, these names!) I get all this info from outside research, because there’s nothing in the film which makes it remotely that clear. Plus, certain former characters aren’t quite killed, but rather “promoted” into “new” consumer-dictated figurines: Megatron becomes Galvatron, and some other misspellings change as well.

And there’s something called the Matrix of Leadership, and I’m sure it makes sense if I could parse out its exposition over the cock rock. As it is, that just sounds like some phraseology from a business retreat.


“More than meets the eye.” “Robots in disguise.” The central concept of “Transformers” isn’t anathema to something a little less batshit nutsazoid. Robots hidden among us…this opens up a rich fantasy reverie, and is obviously the engine behind the ongoing franchise. Too bad the facts of toy production dictate continuous elaboration, which turns – in no time flat! – into lunacy. To capture a new market share, Hasbro invented new sub-lines of Transformers such as the Insecticons or the…er, the Dinosauriconobotics. (Sorry, “Dinobots.”) Also the Constructicons, and probably something called the Comiconitrons.

So…giant robots morphing into giant dinosaurs. It’s cool, in that reductive, maniac sort of way, but these ideas do rather undercut believability. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this overstuffed world was/is the appeal. Maybe it’s more fun to see gigantic robots on alien planets, where their scale is equivalent to the local architecture, as opposed to on Earth where they look massive. All these things which alienate me, which make me hear farting noises, could be what’s fun about the brand.

And moving on briefly beyond The Movie…“The Transformers” continued on TV for two more seasons. Assorted spinoffs then emerged in Japan, but we expect the Japanese to do silly things to begin with. The line bifurcated within the U.S. as well, creating numerous new animated shows and toy lines and comic book continuities, all distinct from each other, except when they’re not. To wit, there’s “Beast Wars,” “Robots in Disguise,” “Armada,” “Energon,” “Cyberton,” and something simply called “Transformers: Animated,” even though all of those are animated. And those are just – I think – the shows. All hail Hasbro, which develops ideas like tumors! Each new line is a chance for new customers – renewing a fan base is one approach, unlike most series which try to maintain a single audience long term.

And then there’s the live action franchise, which is a separate bag of bolts…

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, No. 4 - TMNT (2007)

The “Turtles” never disappeared in the Twenty-First Century, though they’ve never been quite as ubiquitous as around 1990. So a second animated program ran from 2003 to 2009, hewing closer than the first to the comics’ dark tone, due to control from the Eastman/Laird-owned Mirage Studios. Of course the “Turtles” remain a kids’ property, with a wholly new fandom now. There’s always been enough interest to keep the franchise active, but never again huge.

Then all of a sudden in 2007, a new theatrical “Turtle” movie came into being, TMNT, an all-CGI animated tale from Imagi studios and writer/director Kevin Munroe. This was earlier in the same year as Michael Bay’s Transformers, a live action reinvigoration of a different ‘80s toy/cartoon line. But that made sense at the time, it having been roughly 20 years since the previous “Transformers” theatrical picture, The Transformers: The Movie. That’s enough time to maximize the nostalgia value for that property, for Bay’s effort to appeal to the broadest spectrum of grown “Transformers” fans and new youngsters. The timing was absolutely perfect.

Whereas with TMNT, my immediate 2007 response was, “What, already?!” It’d been a mere 14 years since Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III, the franchise killer, and only 17 since the high point, the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. As one of the “Turtle” faithful from the early ‘90s, I can attest my nostalgic fondness for the reptiles hadn’t yet fully formed, that the franchise was jumping the ‘80s nostalgia reboot trend a tad early. (Today, however…)

The resulting TMNT feels a little minor, especially compared to what the not-great Transformers accomplished. Not to mention, the whole CGI thing when Transformers was moving to live action…It all feels a little regressive.

It’s likely, however, that TMNT’s existence owes more to the vagaries of film right laws than anything resembling cultural demand. In 2004, Golden Harvest’s claim to theatrical “Turtles” movies expired, opening the property up to the Weinstein Company. Almost as if to stake a theatrical claim, for legal reasons, they resolved to make a feature – and CGI offers the perfect combination of cost effectiveness and freedom (plus it distances TMNT from III). Like the upcoming Spider-Man reboot really exists in response to Disney’s acquisition of Marvel, TMNT is very likely a movie that had to happen, to keep the film rights active.

Not too say Kevin Munroe doesn’t do all he can with TMNT. The man seems to be a genuine “Turtles” fan, even while this purse-of-a-pig’s-ear is verifiably an in-continuity sequel with III. (Artifacts from the movie franchise are clearly shown in the Turtles’ lair.) Like any good quasi-reboot, TMNT goes Darker and Edgier, meaning it makes sense that the film follows the comics’ tenor over the now long-defunct ‘90s cartoon show. That means once again we’re denied the joys of a big movie Technodrome, and Krang, and all attendant goodies and – Okay, maybe I’m the only one who wants all that stuff. Still, TMNT is “Less cowabunga” at a time when that’s likely essential – it must distance itself from the perceived “surfer dude” problems of old, as it’s too soon to capitalize on those silly elements.


So without the Shredder, and with a continued aversion to the show’s rogues gallery, who are the Turtles to face off against? Why, a totally new character, who is thus strangely the least original part of TMNT. That would be multibillionaire businessman Max Winters (Patrick Stewart’s authoritative voice), a man who…

Okay, his arguably-evil plan is not very clear, but here’s what can be parsed out from a Lord of the Rings-esque opening battle/Lawrence Fishburne narration: Three-thousand years ago, the evil warlord Yoatl (now Winters) led his evil army of evil generals evil rampant blah blah blah…Using a “once every 3,000 years” alignment of the “Stars of Kikan” constellation, Yoatl wins his evil war of evilness, but not before – turning himself immortal, turning his generals to stone, and unleashing 13 monsters upon the world. …Um…okay…

This dump of arbitrary, random, new-yet-clichéd plotting assaults the audience mere seconds after an even more desultory narration tries to justify the presence of, well, teenage, mutant, ninja turtles in New York City. (It’s probably only one year now since III in film, hence they’re still technically teenagers thank God – though I calculate 19-years-old.)


Anyway, back to Winters: Conveniently, the next Kikan alignment is coming up (how lucky for mankind this happens while the Turtles exist). Longing to break his accursed immortality, Winters…Okay, deep breath…revives his stone generals, who now live but are still made of stone (like something out of one of the Frasier Mummy movies). He has also hired the still-existent Foot Clan, headed by comic character Karai (Zhang Ziyi’s breathy purr), to capture those 13 monsters – who are all randomly rampaging unknown throughout New York City, sans property damage or death. If Winters can amass those monsters, or collect ‘em all, within his central Manhattan Ghostbusters-esque metaphysical-reactor-by-way-of-architecture, all on the precise every-3,000-years moment, and only with his stone generals there, then…Winters will no longer be immortal. Or something. And somehow the bad guy becoming suddenly killable is “bad,” because maybe (it ain’t too clear) by doing so he shall release monsters upon this world. Or more monsters, at any rate. Or…okay, whatever, bad guy exists, must be stopped, let’s leave it at that.

This is a danged lot of info for something so generic, and the least successful thing about TMNT. In fact, all the human elements, such as Winters, are the most awkward. This extends to character design, which renders people as angular abstractions, but as least never comes anywhere near the Uncanny Valley.

The Turtles’ designs, of course, are far more appealing, which is as it should be. Their story, such as it is, is better too, for this is where Munroe’s desire to recreate his memory of the old “Turtles” serves him the strongest. Just too bad they can’t be proactive about the Winters nonsense until well into the finale.

The Turtles’ glory days are over, the Shredder shredded, and Leonardo (James Arnold Taylor) has been sent by Master Splinter (Mako, voice for “Samurai Jack” and “Avatar: The Last Airbender”) to Central America (nation never specified) to “train to be a better leader.” Just how Splinter thinks sending Leo alone into the wilderness will improve his ability to lead his turtle brothers, I cannot say. If anything, it makes relations more strained once Leo returns, especially with hothead Raph (Nolan North)…

Actually, TMNT reinvigorates the lost notion of Raphael as the most interesting Turtle, giving him angst and vigilantism to spare. Hence Raph spends his nights in secret as the Nightwatcher, a Batman-style superhero dedicated to fighting crime even when the Turtles won’t (they’ve gone into hiding at Splinter’s request, for some strange commandment that they no longer fight). This whole Nightwatcher subplot is another thread to follow, along with Leo’s return, and Winters’ assorted unclear villainies. There’s a lot to pay attention to.


Leaving Mike and Donny (Mikey Kelly and Mitchell Whitfield) largely with nothing to do. Like the first film, these Turtles are largely forgotten, as their comic relief and tech knowhow serves little purpose in such a relatively gritty tale. Mike is the biggest victim of Munroe’s “no cowabungas” dictate, with his dated surfer idioms now a self-conscious joke more than anything. (Late in the film, when Mike makes an old-style joke, Raph responds: “Mikey, remember our talk.”) And while Raph’s been off alone playing hero, Mike is a party performer, and Donny an IT tech support guy. Otherwise, they just sleep and eat pizza. Not very interesting.


For even more time is taken up with Raph’s human buddies, especially Casey Jones (Chris Evans – aka Captain America), a fellow partner in crime-fighting. Naturally, there’s also April O’Neil (the ostensibly “sexy” American tones of Sarah Michelle Gellar), though they’re kind of running out of movie to do anything with her. She doesn’t even report.

Okay, so TMNT is kind of overstuffed with plot, thanks to an over-complicated villain plot, and an independent Turtle schism told while having to reestablish all these characters. It’s overambitious, and never coalesces, which is a good example of why Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles benefited so much from a streamlined story. Otherwise, TMNT is easily the best Turtles movie since the first.

One major advantage is how it presents the action sequences. No longer beholden to the sickening pabulum of “no fighting in a kids’ movie” which dogged the Turtles sequels, this PG-rated movie can do pretty much anything it likes with its CGI characters. It’s not violent, per se, but we do get to see the use of katanas and sais and whatnot in a non-lethal context. (Secret of the Ooze didn’t even let its Turtles handle their trademark weapons!) So on those oddly rare moments where the Turtles battle the Foot Clan, or a monster (the monster stuff is mostly an unrelated montage), things are at a blissfully simple level, like…like –

Like a video game! Indeed, the animation style of TMNT resembles nothing so much as a really long, rather well done cut scene. (There is some cut scene experience in this film’s crew.) Consider the whole of Manhattan feels small, like a model set, the Turtles no larger than the action figures we all hopefully had as children, conscientious consumers that we are. But when you use CGI as a cost-cutting tool, that’s the result. This is an inexpensive movie, less costly by far than the cheapo-looking III – this in an era when Pixar movies are amongst the most expensive to produce. The thing does look independent (or at least as independent as all-CGI can), but that frees ‘em up to do as they will with the Turtles.


And while TMNT may rarely cohere as the perfect Turtles movie – most of the Turtles are too forgotten for that to happen – there are moments which must count as the greatest Turtle moments yet. Consider, after a comic slapstick fight between Raph and a tiny monster (one I’m too embarrassed to even explore much), Raph faces off against Leo on a rooftop. At two-thirds through, this is the simmering conflict coming to a head, Raph’s rage against Leo’s intended leadership. And the two actually duke it out, Leo at first fighting simply “Nightwatcher,” then even egged on to duel once he knows it’s his own brother.

Amazing, that in a film filled with toy-ready monsters, and stone Mayan generals of yore, and all sorts of other pandemonium, it’s a scene between the two pre-established characters which works best. It’s in the fine Asian tradition of the fight as the musical number, emotions worked out physically. And the emotions in this fight are to 11, Raph even getting as least once big “Nooooooooooooo!” to the heavens. Of course, with the rain and ninjitsu and neon lighting and so forth, it’s derivative…derivative of The Matrix, mostly, but what action film of the ‘00s can claim different? (The Bourne series.) But TMNT is mostly geared towards a younger audience, not nostalgia hounds (too soon, man!), so it’s somewhat understandable to give ‘em a “My First Matrix Rip-Off.” For Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was just giving us the action films of the ‘80s watered down anyway. It’s nothing new!


Ultimately Leo is captured by the stone generals, taken as a substitute for the 13th monster (which is not that Gremlins-lite monstrosity Raph was just battling, which is apparently seized by the Foot at some later point off screen). And here’s the thing: the stoners don’t want to be made mortal, as Winters does – and tricking him is as simple as not capturing a raging, drooling monster. So Winters’ ceremony shall not commence…which is a “good” thing, right?

Nah! Donny’s one moment of pure technobabble explains how monsters will soon overrun the Earth anyway. For the stone generals have surpassed Winters in villainy, rather sending him retroactively into the ranks of the good guys (as it does the Foot Clan – say what?!). And with that great, ridiculous, cosmic Kikan constellation lightshow going on in Winters’ summer home, it’s up to the Turtles to…uh…to…

Well, they have to stop the stone generals. Who are immortal. But the only way to mortalize ‘em is by delivering the 13th monster (which sounds like a great William Castle title!). But doing that will release monsters. But not doing it will also release monsters, apparently, so…


Okay, here’s the reason for all this confusion, really (beyond doing a generic ‘00s-style fantasy epic for the young uns): The generals and Winters are brothers, and they cannot get along. See, it’s all a parallel to the Turtles’ story, who do like each other (Raph and Leo have made up – it was very heartwarming). Cowabunga, it’s symbolic, dude! Too bad making this point was so danged complicated, rendering the surface plot a metaphysical shambles.

But at any rate the 13th monster is delivered, sacrificed with the rest, and the stone generals are banished to the great non-Dimension X dimension in the sky. And monsters do not suddenly run rampage, but quite the opposite, for now it is “good” to do as Winters originally wanted. Because he is now the good guy. And he’s ascending off to wherever himself, newly a mortal and newly a lightshow (there’s a lot of those).


Oddly, it is Casey Jones who’s most responsible for this victory, meaning in every entry Casey is in, he delivers the final blow to the villain. (Oh, sure, in III it was just Casey’s actor, in a different era, but I’ll allow it.) But the Turtles (and Splinter) still get the biggest action sequence, and that’s what really counts. (It’s like how Gordon saved the day in Batman Begins – exactly like that.)

So the moments in TMNT that work the best are the simplest – the Turtles being Turtles, Leo vs. Raph. It becomes a muddle in the larger story, which struggles to do something fantastical without summoning apparently “taboo” cartoon show elements (Krang, etc.). That paradoxically makes TMNT harder for a newcomer to enjoy than a true “Turtle” outing would be. But 2007 was a tough time to be a Turtle, and credit to TMNT for shedding the more inane elements of its predecessors. For its troubles, TMNT was a moderate success, certainly better off than III at $95 million (and hell, it knocked 300 from # 1), but no place near the Turtles’ former zenith.

Of course, the time wasn’t right for a Turtle reboot (they were about 4 years early, methinks). And the thing is compromised, by the need to work in continuity with its lesser predecessors (II and III), something no one ever asked for. Which leaves TMNT as the Incredible Hulk to III’s Hulk – that is, it is better, but still such a general mediocrity that it seems a letdown. All this when the series needs its Casino Royale, its total fresh break.

CGI was never the real answer, though it makes for an entertaining one-off. No, the future of the Turtles, whether you like it or not, is likely to follow in the successful nostalgia reboot footsteps of Transformers. Disgustingly, that means “Turtles” allying with the dreaded Michael Bay himself, and worse, his Platinum Dunes label, where media properties go to die. All this in spite of Munroe’s stated desire (even hinted at in-film) to do a TMNT sequel with the Shredder returning. (If that was always the case, why didn’t he just go that for TMNT!?) But if live action it must be, so be it. One only hopes whatever comes of the “Turtles” next, it somehow matches our memories of the ‘80s, that it works artistically as well as commercially.


Related posts:
• No. 1 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)
• No. 2 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze (1991)
• No. 3 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III (1993)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, No. 4 - TMNT (2007)

The “Turtles” never disappeared in the Twenty-First Century, though they’ve never been quite as ubiquitous as around 1990. So a second animated program ran from 2003 to 2009, hewing closer than the first to the comics’ dark tone, due to control from the Eastman/Laird-owned Mirage Studios. Of course the “Turtles” remain a kids’ property, with a wholly new fandom now. There’s always been enough interest to keep the franchise active, but never again huge.

Then all of a sudden in 2007, a new theatrical “Turtle” movie came into being, TMNT, an all-CGI animated tale from Imagi studios and writer/director Kevin Munroe. This was earlier in the same year as Michael Bay’s Transformers, a live action reinvigoration of a different ‘80s toy/cartoon line. But that made sense at the time, it having been roughly 20 years since the previous “Transformers” theatrical picture, The Transformers: The Movie. That’s enough time to maximize the nostalgia value for that property, for Bay’s effort to appeal to the broadest spectrum of grown “Transformers” fans and new youngsters. The timing was absolutely perfect.

Whereas with TMNT, my immediate 2007 response was, “What, already?!” It’d been a mere 14 years since Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III, the franchise killer, and only 17 since the high point, the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. As one of the “Turtle” faithful from the early ‘90s, I can attest my nostalgic fondness for the reptiles hadn’t yet fully formed, that the franchise was jumping the ‘80s nostalgia reboot trend a tad early. (Today, however…)

The resulting TMNT feels a little minor, especially compared to what the not-great Transformers accomplished. Not to mention, the whole CGI thing when Transformers was moving to live action…It all feels a little regressive.

It’s likely, however, that TMNT’s existence owes more to the vagaries of film right laws than anything resembling cultural demand. In 2004, Golden Harvest’s claim to theatrical “Turtles” movies expired, opening the property up to the Weinstein Company. Almost as if to stake a theatrical claim, for legal reasons, they resolved to make a feature – and CGI offers the perfect combination of cost effectiveness and freedom (plus it distances TMNT from III). Like the upcoming Spider-Man reboot really exists in response to Disney’s acquisition of Marvel, TMNT is very likely a movie that had to happen, to keep the film rights active.

Not too say Kevin Munroe doesn’t do all he can with TMNT. The man seems to be a genuine “Turtles” fan, even while this purse-of-a-pig’s-ear is verifiably an in-continuity sequel with III. (Artifacts from the movie franchise are clearly shown in the Turtles’ lair.) Like any good quasi-reboot, TMNT goes Darker and Edgier, meaning it makes sense that the film follows the comics’ tenor over the now long-defunct ‘90s cartoon show. That means once again we’re denied the joys of a big movie Technodrome, and Krang, and all attendant goodies and – Okay, maybe I’m the only one who wants all that stuff. Still, TMNT is “Less cowabunga” at a time when that’s likely essential – it must distance itself from the perceived “surfer dude” problems of old, as it’s too soon to capitalize on those silly elements.


So without the Shredder, and with a continued aversion to the show’s rogues gallery, who are the Turtles to face off against? Why, a totally new character, who is thus strangely the least original part of TMNT. That would be multibillionaire businessman Max Winters (Patrick Stewart’s authoritative voice), a man who…

Okay, his arguably-evil plan is not very clear, but here’s what can be parsed out from a Lord of the Rings-esque opening battle/Lawrence Fishburne narration: Three-thousand years ago, the evil warlord Yoatl (now Winters) led his evil army of evil generals evil rampant blah blah blah…Using a “once every 3,000 years” alignment of the “Stars of Kikan” constellation, Yoatl wins his evil war of evilness, but not before – turning himself immortal, turning his generals to stone, and unleashing 13 monsters upon the world. …Um…okay…

This dump of arbitrary, random, new-yet-clichéd plotting assaults the audience mere seconds after an even more desultory narration tries to justify the presence of, well, teenage, mutant, ninja turtles in New York City. (It’s probably only one year now since III in film, hence they’re still technically teenagers thank God – though I calculate 19-years-old.)


Anyway, back to Winters: Conveniently, the next Kikan alignment is coming up (how lucky for mankind this happens while the Turtles exist). Longing to break his accursed immortality, Winters…Okay, deep breath…revives his stone generals, who now live but are still made of stone (like something out of one of the Frasier Mummy movies). He has also hired the still-existent Foot Clan, headed by comic character Karai (Zhang Ziyi’s breathy purr), to capture those 13 monsters – who are all randomly rampaging unknown throughout New York City, sans property damage or death. If Winters can amass those monsters, or collect ‘em all, within his central Manhattan Ghostbusters-esque metaphysical-reactor-by-way-of-architecture, all on the precise every-3,000-years moment, and only with his stone generals there, then…Winters will no longer be immortal. Or something. And somehow the bad guy becoming suddenly killable is “bad,” because maybe (it ain’t too clear) by doing so he shall release monsters upon this world. Or more monsters, at any rate. Or…okay, whatever, bad guy exists, must be stopped, let’s leave it at that.

This is a danged lot of info for something so generic, and the least successful thing about TMNT. In fact, all the human elements, such as Winters, are the most awkward. This extends to character design, which renders people as angular abstractions, but as least never comes anywhere near the Uncanny Valley.

The Turtles’ designs, of course, are far more appealing, which is as it should be. Their story, such as it is, is better too, for this is where Munroe’s desire to recreate his memory of the old “Turtles” serves him the strongest. Just too bad they can’t be proactive about the Winters nonsense until well into the finale.

The Turtles’ glory days are over, the Shredder shredded, and Leonardo (James Arnold Taylor) has been sent by Master Splinter (Mako, voice for “Samurai Jack” and “Avatar: The Last Airbender”) to Central America (nation never specified) to “train to be a better leader.” Just how Splinter thinks sending Leo alone into the wilderness will improve his ability to lead his turtle brothers, I cannot say. If anything, it makes relations more strained once Leo returns, especially with hothead Raph (Nolan North)…

Actually, TMNT reinvigorates the lost notion of Raphael as the most interesting Turtle, giving him angst and vigilantism to spare. Hence Raph spends his nights in secret as the Nightwatcher, a Batman-style superhero dedicated to fighting crime even when the Turtles won’t (they’ve gone into hiding at Splinter’s request, for some strange commandment that they no longer fight). This whole Nightwatcher subplot is another thread to follow, along with Leo’s return, and Winters’ assorted unclear villainies. There’s a lot to pay attention to.


Leaving Mike and Donny (Mikey Kelly and Mitchell Whitfield) largely with nothing to do. Like the first film, these Turtles are largely forgotten, as their comic relief and tech knowhow serves little purpose in such a relatively gritty tale. Mike is the biggest victim of Munroe’s “no cowabungas” dictate, with his dated surfer idioms now a self-conscious joke more than anything. (Late in the film, when Mike makes an old-style joke, Raph responds: “Mikey, remember our talk.”) And while Raph’s been off alone playing hero, Mike is a party performer, and Donny an IT tech support guy. Otherwise, they just sleep and eat pizza. Not very interesting.


For even more time is taken up with Raph’s human buddies, especially Casey Jones (Chris Evans – aka Captain America), a fellow partner in crime-fighting. Naturally, there’s also April O’Neil (the ostensibly “sexy” American tones of Sarah Michelle Gellar), though they’re kind of running out of movie to do anything with her. She doesn’t even report.

Okay, so TMNT is kind of overstuffed with plot, thanks to an over-complicated villain plot, and an independent Turtle schism told while having to reestablish all these characters. It’s overambitious, and never coalesces, which is a good example of why Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles benefited so much from a streamlined story. Otherwise, TMNT is easily the best Turtles movie since the first.

One major advantage is how it presents the action sequences. No longer beholden to the sickening pabulum of “no fighting in a kids’ movie” which dogged the Turtles sequels, this PG-rated movie can do pretty much anything it likes with its CGI characters. It’s not violent, per se, but we do get to see the use of katanas and sais and whatnot in a non-lethal context. (Secret of the Ooze didn’t even let its Turtles handle their trademark weapons!) So on those oddly rare moments where the Turtles battle the Foot Clan, or a monster (the monster stuff is mostly an unrelated montage), things are at a blissfully simple level, like…like –

Like a video game! Indeed, the animation style of TMNT resembles nothing so much as a really long, rather well done cut scene. (There is some cut scene experience in this film’s crew.) Consider the whole of Manhattan feels small, like a model set, the Turtles no larger than the action figures we all hopefully had as children, conscientious consumers that we are. But when you use CGI as a cost-cutting tool, that’s the result. This is an inexpensive movie, less costly by far than the cheapo-looking III – this in an era when Pixar movies are amongst the most expensive to produce. The thing does look independent (or at least as independent as all-CGI can), but that frees ‘em up to do as they will with the Turtles.


And while TMNT may rarely cohere as the perfect Turtles movie – most of the Turtles are too forgotten for that to happen – there are moments which must count as the greatest Turtle moments yet. Consider, after a comic slapstick fight between Raph and a tiny monster (one I’m too embarrassed to even explore much), Raph faces off against Leo on a rooftop. At two-thirds through, this is the simmering conflict coming to a head, Raph’s rage against Leo’s intended leadership. And the two actually duke it out, Leo at first fighting simply “Nightwatcher,” then even egged on to duel once he knows it’s his own brother.

Amazing, that in a film filled with toy-ready monsters, and stone Mayan generals of yore, and all sorts of other pandemonium, it’s a scene between the two pre-established characters which works best. It’s in the fine Asian tradition of the fight as the musical number, emotions worked out physically. And the emotions in this fight are to 11, Raph even getting as least once big “Nooooooooooooo!” to the heavens. Of course, with the rain and ninjitsu and neon lighting and so forth, it’s derivative…derivative of The Matrix, mostly, but what action film of the ‘00s can claim different? (The Bourne series.) But TMNT is mostly geared towards a younger audience, not nostalgia hounds (too soon, man!), so it’s somewhat understandable to give ‘em a “My First Matrix Rip-Off.” For Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was just giving us the action films of the ‘80s watered down anyway. It’s nothing new!


Ultimately Leo is captured by the stone generals, taken as a substitute for the 13th monster (which is not that Gremlins-lite monstrosity Raph was just battling, which is apparently seized by the Foot at some later point off screen). And here’s the thing: the stoners don’t want to be made mortal, as Winters does – and tricking him is as simple as not capturing a raging, drooling monster. So Winters’ ceremony shall not commence…which is a “good” thing, right?

Nah! Donny’s one moment of pure technobabble explains how monsters will soon overrun the Earth anyway. For the stone generals have surpassed Winters in villainy, rather sending him retroactively into the ranks of the good guys (as it does the Foot Clan – say what?!). And with that great, ridiculous, cosmic Kikan constellation lightshow going on in Winters’ summer home, it’s up to the Turtles to…uh…to…

Well, they have to stop the stone generals. Who are immortal. But the only way to mortalize ‘em is by delivering the 13th monster (which sounds like a great William Castle title!). But doing that will release monsters. But not doing it will also release monsters, apparently, so…


Okay, here’s the reason for all this confusion, really (beyond doing a generic ‘00s-style fantasy epic for the young uns): The generals and Winters are brothers, and they cannot get along. See, it’s all a parallel to the Turtles’ story, who do like each other (Raph and Leo have made up – it was very heartwarming). Cowabunga, it’s symbolic, dude! Too bad making this point was so danged complicated, rendering the surface plot a metaphysical shambles.

But at any rate the 13th monster is delivered, sacrificed with the rest, and the stone generals are banished to the great non-Dimension X dimension in the sky. And monsters do not suddenly run rampage, but quite the opposite, for now it is “good” to do as Winters originally wanted. Because he is now the good guy. And he’s ascending off to wherever himself, newly a mortal and newly a lightshow (there’s a lot of those).


Oddly, it is Casey Jones who’s most responsible for this victory, meaning in every entry Casey is in, he delivers the final blow to the villain. (Oh, sure, in III it was just Casey’s actor, in a different era, but I’ll allow it.) But the Turtles (and Splinter) still get the biggest action sequence, and that’s what really counts. (It’s like how Gordon saved the day in Batman Begins – exactly like that.)

So the moments in TMNT that work the best are the simplest – the Turtles being Turtles, Leo vs. Raph. It becomes a muddle in the larger story, which struggles to do something fantastical without summoning apparently “taboo” cartoon show elements (Krang, etc.). That paradoxically makes TMNT harder for a newcomer to enjoy than a true “Turtle” outing would be. But 2007 was a tough time to be a Turtle, and credit to TMNT for shedding the more inane elements of its predecessors. For its troubles, TMNT was a moderate success, certainly better off than III at $95 million (and hell, it knocked 300 from # 1), but no place near the Turtles’ former zenith.

Of course, the time wasn’t right for a Turtle reboot (they were about 4 years early, methinks). And the thing is compromised, by the need to work in continuity with its lesser predecessors (II and III), something no one ever asked for. Which leaves TMNT as the Incredible Hulk to III’s Hulk – that is, it is better, but still such a general mediocrity that it seems a letdown. All this when the series needs its Casino Royale, its total fresh break.

CGI was never the real answer, though it makes for an entertaining one-off. No, the future of the Turtles, whether you like it or not, is likely to follow in the successful nostalgia reboot footsteps of Transformers. Disgustingly, that means “Turtles” allying with the dreaded Michael Bay himself, and worse, his Platinum Dunes label, where media properties go to die. All this in spite of Munroe’s stated desire (even hinted at in-film) to do a TMNT sequel with the Shredder returning. (If that was always the case, why didn’t he just go that for TMNT!?) But if live action it must be, so be it. One only hopes whatever comes of the “Turtles” next, it somehow matches our memories of the ‘80s, that it works artistically as well as commercially.


Related posts:
• No. 1 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)
• No. 2 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze (1991)
• No. 3 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III (1993)