THE BUTLER DID IT: Kris Marshall helps himself in Easy Virtue.
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TERMINATOR SALVATION Make no mistake: Terminator Salvation is nowhere in the same league as James Cameron's 1984 classic The Terminator or his pull-out-all-the-stops 1991 sequel Terminator 2: Judgment Day. But it's a step up from the belated (and Cameron-less) 2003 entry Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines, which surprisingly preserved the integrity of the narrative throughline but otherwise spun its wheels in regards to its characterizations and action set-pieces. In much the same way, this one (set in 2018) doesn't especially deepen our understanding of the apocalyptic future world first glimpsed in Cameron's original movie, and to say that it fails to flesh out the character of John Connor is an understatement. But it's entertaining nonetheless, as Connor (Christian Bale) tries to save the teenage Kyle Reese (Anton Yelchin) while also trying to ascertain whether a stranger (Sam Worthington) is a friend or foe. Complaints that the film is too bleak are ludicrous, and while the charges can't be denied that Bale's John Connor is rather humorless and one-note, what else are we to expect from a character who has spent his entire life burdened not only by the fact that the future is crappy but that he's somehow expected to fix it all? At any rate, the movie itself isn't completely devoid of humor, as witnessed by a few knowing winks at fans of the first films (including a cameo-of-sorts by a certain superstar). Terminator Salvation is, to borrow from Macbeth, full of sound and fury, but whether it's a tale told by an idiot (certainly, Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle earned director McG a battalion of haters) and signifying nothing will largely be determined by viewer preconceptions and a subsequent willingness to go with the flow. This isn't a classic Terminator model, but as the fourth line in a brand that was created a quarter-century ago, it serves its purpose nicely. ***
TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN To my surprise, I somewhat dug 2007's Transformers, crediting the input of executive producer Steven Spielberg, who was described in the press notes as a "hands-on producer." Well, Spielberg must have been on an extended vacation during the making of this perfectly dreadful sequel that's the filmic equivalent of a 150-minute waterboarding session. As before, two warring factions of intergalactic robots – the noble Autobots and the evil Decepticons – are waging their battle on our planet, with youngsters Sam (Shia LaBeouf) and Mikaela (Megan Fox) offering their support to the good 'bots. Yet while the running time is almost identical to that of its predecessor, the priorities have been shifted. The slugfests between the Autobots and the Decepticons – the dullest portions of the first flick – have been elongated, and by including more fights and more explosions and more military hardware (Bay must fantasize about fondling missiles the way teenage boys fantasize about fondling Fox), that leaves less room for any meaningful human interaction. Then again, given that most of the characters are rather insufferable this time around, maybe the less seen of them, the better. Unfortunately, the Transformers themselves are no more interesting, with the most offensive being two "black" Transformers who sport buck teeth (one gold), admit to not being able to read, and cuss a lot. Forget Jar Jar Binks, who comes across like Paul Robeson when compared to these stooges: You'd have to go back to the days of Stepin Fetchit and Sleep 'n' Eat (nee Willie Best) to find such a jolting comparison. Bay doesn't believe in stooping too low, so he also treats us to not one but two shots of dogs screwing, as well as a mini-Transformer humping Mikaela's leg, a Transformer with flatulence problems and a close-up of John Turturro's thong-clad buttocks. And did I mention the swinging metallic testicles on one of the Decepticons? That last-named bit of idiocy thus allows me to segue into my own phallic quip: This movie sucks. *
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