Noah Diaz didn’t want to steal the car.
But the guy, circa 1994, is desperate. Kris, his little brother, is dealing with sickle cell anemia—a serious, and expensive, disease. His mom works as hard as she can to pay the bills, but it’s never quite enough. And ever since he got out of the military, Noah has struggled to find a job.
But Kris needs treatment, which means that Noah needs cash. And when a “friend” suggests helping him swipe a nifty little Porsche from someone who clearly has too much money, a reluctant Noah realizes that might be the only way to get the cash he needs.
Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? I mean, besides the obvious (being sent to prison, leaving his little bro in the lurch and making his mother cry), what’s the worst that could happen?
Noah soon discovers that things can, indeed, get quite a bit worse.
As soon as he settles in behind the Porsche’s steering wheel, Noah decides he’s made a mistake. He’s no thief! But just as he’s about to skedaddle, a mysterious voice starts calling for “Transformers” to “gather” for some sort of emergency meeting. The “Porsche” promptly locks its doors, hits the gas, nearly mows down a security guard and heads down the road—with a bevy of police soon in hot pursuit.
Forget Noah stealing a car; the car stole him. Not that the police will see it that way.
And the evening’s oddities are really just getting started.
Turns out the car isn’t a car at all: He’s a robot. From space. And he’s not the only one. Mirage (the car/robot’s name) is part of a small group of space-robot-cars that are looking for a way back to their home planet of Cybertron, and they think they’ve finally found an ancient crystal that can do just that.
But there’s more. Another group of robot-space-aliens wants the crystal, too. Led by a really nasty fellow named Scourge (clearly the robot’s mom had an inkling of what was in the lad’s future) wants to serve the crystal up to the much bigger god-robot-alien he serves, so that that god-robot-alien (Unicron) can gobble up Earth and every other planet it might come across.
But wait, there’s still more! Another group of space-robots—ones that can turn into robot-animals—are in the picture, too. They’ll do anything they can to keep Scourge’s metallic mitts off the crystal. Anything.
And just like that, Noah has stumbled on a teachable moment: Don’t steal cars. Because you never know when one might be a sentient alien who’ll drag you into a life-risking galactic mission.
Transformers movies are not known for their subtlety, and that goes for their positive messages, too. The stakes are clear from the get-go, and the heroism we see here—from both people and sentient robots—is as inescapable as Optimus Prime in a tight, one-way alley.
Speaking of which, Optimus Prime wasn’t quite the defender of humanity in 1994 that he later became. He was far more interested in protecting his own kind, and he didn’t trust Earthfolk one bit.
That changes as the movie goes on. For that we can thank, in part, the Maximals, the robot-animals mentioned above. They are indeed a sacrificial lot, having taken oaths to protect the universe and all its many life forms from Unicron’s horrible hunger. One sacrifices his life at the very outset of the movie, and all the others are willing to do the same. And they’ve partnered with a handful of humans to safeguard the crystal.
Perhaps he’s swayed by Noah’s own unselfish behavior, too. The movie suggests that he and Optimus Prime are kindred spirits in a way—willing to do whatever they can to protect their respective kin. (Noah’s dedication to his little brother is especially sweet, at least to those in the audience.) And Optimus realizes that fighting “the darkness” requires a unified effort.
And every good person (or robot), of course, is willing to give a great deal to fight that darkness, including their lives and their futures. They talk about some strong ideals in impressively deep voices.
Unicron is referred to several times as a “dark god,” and it seems as though Scourge has actually sold his soul (or whatever is the equivalent of a soul for these entities) in exchange for some special powers. As you might expect, Scourge is treated rather shabbily by Unicron, proving that bullies are often bullied themselves.
The crystal itself comes to light in a New York ancient history museum, thanks to a bright intern named Elena Wallace. She identifies a few objects for her boss (at least one of which has a spiritual connection), but recognizes that a falcon statue isn’t a representation of the Egyptian god Horus as other experts believed. It is, in fact, a representation of Airazor. Other ancient drawings and sculptures seem to represent other Maximals, implying that they might’ve been worshiped, too.
A Peruvian church is seen in several shots as a focal point for a local celebration. We hear (and eventually see) that the church was built over an ancient temple that has some connection with the crystal.
Reek, Noah’s friend who encourages Noah to steal the car, says that Noah’s negative energy is “really effecting my chi” (a spiritual Chinese understanding of our vital force or energy), and he suggests that Noah engage in some breathing exercises. Elena’s boss makes a reference to Minerva magazine, an archaeology-themed publication that takes its name from the Roman goddess of wisdom. A resurrection of sorts takes place.
None, really, though Elena does rest her head on Noah’s shoulder once, and someone wears a rather tight evening dress.
The violence in Transformers flicks can be a little hard to pin down, in a way. There’s always a lot of it, but most often it takes place against nonhuman combatants. Very little blood is shed. Motor oil? That’s a different story.
Oh, humans are certainly imperiled. In fact, Rise of the Beasts gives off, at times, a horror-like vibe. Scourge sends smaller, spider-like robots (freezers, they’re apparently called) to chase and attack Noah and Elena, instructing them to “tear the skin off their bones.” Both humans are endangered frequently, and one nearly falls off a very high platform and into a burbling pool of lava.
And we shouldn’t forget the police chasing Noah and Mirage during the “car-stealing” sequence. Several patrol cars crash fairly violently.
But most of the damage is inflicted, and suffered, by Transformers, Terrorcons (of which Scourge is the leader) and Maximals. Battles are frequent and frenetic. And because these are robots, various pieces and limbs can be blasted off, sawn away or yanked asunder. One character even loses its head.
A few characters “die,” often after being stabbed or hewn by others. Other minions get blown apart and blown away. One character seems to be possessed by Scourge and attacks its friends. Missiles are fired. Energy weapons are used. Unicron devours a whole planet. Violent threats are issued. Property damage is severe.
We hear 10 s-words or so, about half of those in a rap song that plays in the background near the beginning of the film. We also hear a handful of uses of “a–,” “d–n” and “h—.” God’s name is misused twice. Elena uses “fudge” as a profanity stand-in.
None.
After a scare, Mirage claims that the wetness around him isn’t from fear—just motor oil.
Noah gives a friend a device that apparently allows him to watch cable without paying for it. He (as mentioned) nearly steals a car. Elena uses her boss’s clearance badge to do some off-the-books experimentation with the Airazor statue. Her boss is a jerk who often takes credit for Elena’s hard work.
A prospective employer may reject Noah as a suitable employee based, at least partly, on race. When Noah meets Wheeljack, an Autobot with a Mexican accent, Noah asks him where that would’ve come from (given that Wheeljack comes from outer space and all) and assumes he can speak Spanish. Wheeljack accuses Noah of racism—much to Noah’s bafflement.
Think Harrison Ford’s a little long-in-the-tooth to come back for another Indiana Jones movie? Truthfully, the Transformers franchise isn’t far behind. A 12-year-old who’d played with Hasbro’s original Transformers toys and watched the original TV series back in 1984 would be in his 50s now. Peter Cullen, the voice of Optimus Prime, is 81. He’s still voicing his most famous character in Transformers: Rise of the Beasts—the seventh live-action movie in the franchise.
Rise of the Beasts is a bridge of sorts in the live-action continuum, serving as a sequel to 2018’s Bumblebee and a prequel of sorts to the original 2007 Transformers movie. And that means that, in terms of the franchise’s canonical timeline, the movies get worse over time.
Bumblebee, most agree, marked a high-water mark in the series, blending its always-dazzling CGI with an actual story and characters you felt for. It logged a 91% “freshness” rating on Rotten Tomatoes—quite the turnaround from 2014’s Transformers: Age of Extinction and 2017’s Transformers: The Last Knight, which wheezed home with 18% and 16% certified rotten scores, respectively.
Rise of the Beasts isn’t as good as Bumblebee. But for the franchise, it represents a pretty solid outing. While it’s rather simple and admittedly silly, Beasts owns up to all that and makes for a fun movie anyway. And it has some strong messages that go deeper than the film itself: Care for your family. Do unto others what you would have them do unto you. We’re stronger together than alone.
But while its lessons resonate, its language can reverberate. Most of that profanity is, of course, completely unnecessary. And the film’s cavalier attitude toward innocent casualties seems to run counter to our heroes’ commitment to preserving life. Finally, Optimus Prime’s beef with Scourge—while having its laudatory elements—can sometimes feel as much about revenge as it is about justice or protecting the innocent.
Yep, for some families, this latest Transformers movie may prove to be just a bit too much. But for those who choose to navigate its issues, there’s some beauty in this Beast.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
