Driving back from the cinema, I was singing the old TMNT TV theme song, which nowhere appears in this movie. My 6-year old, Dan (and why else would I pay good money to see this fillum at the cinema if not for the exceptional pester power of a 6-year old?) joined in, adapting it after the fashion beloved of 6-year-olds everywhere, viz.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turd-tlesI stopped him there. Yet, somehow, he had managed to encapsulate the crucial je ne sais quoi of this movie: it's defining, unmistakeable and inherent crapness. Are you surprised? Of course it has the subtlety of a ton and a half of blancmange dropped from a 50-storey building hitting the pavement. Naturally Liebesman has the skills with comedy of a depressed funeral mute. Bien sûr the plot is nonsensical and full of holes, the pacing all to whack (the first 40 minutes drag terribly) and the fight scenes nothing but clobber-clobber-clobber. Plot: New York is being terrorised by a criminal gang called, if I remember correctly, 'Foot Locker'. Mysterious vigilantes are fighting back, and the film seriously wants us to spend the first three-quarters-of-an-hour curious about the identity of this mysterious crew despite the fact that their NAME IS THE TITLE OF THE SODDING MOVIE. Megan Fox plays a junior TV reporter, shunned by her News Channel because she believes the vigilantes are 6'6" mutant versions of the turtles she released years before from her father's lab. The smiling businessman who promises to help her solve the mystery is, of course, actually an evil businessman in the pay of Shredder. His plan is to pump out, from the roof of his central New York corporate skyscraper, vast amounts of a hideous poison gas that kills instantly by blistering the skin, then to wait thirty days (?), then release the antidote mutagen derived from the Turtles' blood ( ...??), thereby obtaining (his own words) 'a blank cheque from the US government' and the undisputed right to rule NY as his own private fiefdom. Eh? It's a stupid plan. It's the kind of plan that says: 'yeah, our scriptwriters really couldn't be bothered to think up anything better. Yeah, what ya gonna do?' The evil businessman's country estate is situated in those high snow-capped mountains that overlook New York City, just above the half-mile-high cliff that borders Manhattan ... yes, yes, you know the place. Presumably those alpine heights are visible from pretty much anywhere in the city. Anyway the Turtles save the day. Unsurprisingly.
Teenage Poo-tant Ninja Turd-tles
Wee-nage Poo-tant Ninja Turd-tles
Heroes in a Half Sh-
The only surprising thing here was how unsurprising the whole experience was. Only two things struck me as not what I had been expecting. One was just how repellent the CGI Turtles and their Ratmaster 'Splinter' are in close-up. Especially Splinter. Genuinely and gut-churningly yeuch! from start to finish. The other is the way the film factors in its non-kid audience. Other cinematic studios specialising in films aimed predominantly at kids (Pixar, say) take the time to write-in jokes and to stage moments for the adults they know will be chaperoning the kids to the movies. This film can't be bothered with any of that nonsense. Instead the movie is built around a repeat visual motif of Megan Fox's bottom, clad in tight-fitting denim (and at the end of the movie, in tight-fitting leather). No matter what else the film was supposed to be doing, the director has worked with the cinematographer to find a way to include Fox's bottom in shot, usually in close up. If there's an Oscar for crassness, this gesture alone makes the movie a top-grade contender.
Did I enjoy this movie? NO!-abunga, dudes.
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