It’s been almost a decade since Michael Bay helmed a Transformers movie, and there have been few cinematic offerings within that drought that could be seen as truly comparable. Sure, plenty of films can say they rely on the magic of computer-generated effects to make your ticket count, and there’s an equal number of movies that give more heed to blowing things up than telling a story that’s worth a damn. The primary mark of a Transformers film is that they truly feel like a kid playing with action figures in their bedroom. The scale is beyond massive, the stakes are gargantuan, and everyone is equipped with both serious firepower and cringeworthy quips.
As someone who hates Michael Bay’s movies, Hope gave me some déjà vu, for better or worse. Mostly worse. Keep in mind that this film has a stellar first hour and, at its best, is indeed comparable to the likes of Fury Road in the way it finds visual poetry from smacking larger than life toys together. Plenty of people will go bananas for “Korean Prometheus,” as it was affectionately referred to by my friend, and this is certainly a movie with a bit more on its mind than Dark of the Moon.
But when critics were first comparing Hope to those movies back at Cannes, I expected it to be a backwards compliment that probably misremembered how annoying those movies were in spite of their somewhat singular scale. Na Hong-jin’s (The Chaser, The Wailing) epic might be less sexist and feature some better acting (…Anthony Hopkins was in one of those, right?) but it’s frequently just as stupid and just as grating as the worst schlock Bay’s ever made. There are zero rules to what these aliens are capable of and whether or not they can be hurt (ditto for the humans during the third act), which means that gunfire is effective one minute and cheese whiz the next. Fassbender and Vikander have almost nothing to do besides a single conversation, and even though the look of the aliens is interesting and their physical speed is terrifying in a way that’s pleasantly uncanny (they have a literal sport mode), the logistics of regular humans battling the equivalent of super soldier cockroaches means there are endless slow-mo shots of the most contrived plot armor you’re ever seen.
I don’t even care that the CGI is often trash, but two hours and thirty-seven minutes of anyone indulging in their inner ten-year-old is going to grow old. Again, the Jaws-like first hour is tremendous, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate this movie a little bit by the end…or lack thereof.
And that’s a real shame, because thematically, there’s some real promise here. Hope is an immigration allegory about perspective and empathy, and the aliens are not your stereotypically sociopathic cannon fodder—despite raising hell from the second they set foot on earth, they’re actually searching for their prince, who’s been captured and killed by a local. We gradually discover bits and pieces of their culture, and the aforementioned final conversation contrasts them with the human protagonists in a way that’s rather novel. Whereas the humans accept the death of a friend as unlucky (and he’s revealed to be alive in a post-credit scene), the aliens refuse to give up on the prince and are determined to resurrect him despite the destruction of their ship. A hopeful bunch, clearly.
Sadly, this is an incredibly unwieldy way to end a movie this focused on jumping and running and shooting and yelling, and it’s been frequently brought up by critics as an unsatisfying and bizarre conclusion. I’m inclined to agree, but not because switching to the aliens as protagonists is a terrible idea—rather, it’s a good one that arrives far too late in a movie that already conditioned me to turn my brain off. I wish Na would have played his cards earlier, preferably before the unbearably long, action-free second act, or at least before the unbearably long, overstimulating third. As it stands, it’s an anti-climax that will do little for those ready to hit the exit, and one that will likely leave the action buffs repulsed.
Hope has a few impressive action sequences, but overall, it’s an overly long, repetitive slog that grows tiresome. While cinematic beat ’em ups might fill a particular hole for certain moviegoers, it’s hard to recommend for everyone else. Here’s hoping the already-announced sequel has less in common with its American forefathers. Some filmmaking styles don’t need resurrecting. 9-15-26
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