The Trannies are back!

I remember my first car. It was a 1978 canary yellow Honda Civic given to me by my aunt and uncle. Had it the ability to transform, my guess is that it would morph into a roller skate. Not a pair, mind you. A single skate.

Now, thanks to director Michael Bay and the fine folks at the Hasbro toy company, my imagination can run wild with all the many wondrous things it could have been. Like, say, a convection oven or a waffle maker, as the AC frequently did not work.

“Transformers,” this summer's tentpole motion picture, thunders into theaters like an orgy of geek-boy (and -girl) fantasies.

Bay know the childhood of many who grew up in the 80s, as well as those still young enough to play with toys, is on the line, as the “Transformers” played such a pivotal playtime role. And while the director has certainly taken lumps for putting the “bomb” in “bombastic” (*cough* “Pearl Harbor” *cough* “Bad Boys 2” *cough* “The Island” *cough*), he is certainly the right man to direct what is essentially a two-plus-hour car commercial.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Packed from engine to trunk with every element necessary for a summer popcorn flick (aspects of “Jurassic Park,” “King Kong,” “Top Gun,” “Fast and the Furious,” “The Terminator” and “The Matrix” are all present and accounted for), “Transformers” marks the true official start of the summer movie season.

For those of you who cannot distinguish an Autobot from a Go-Bot (Kenner's cheapie knock-off toy released soon after Transformer's success), fear not. For there is much upon which to feast your peepers.

Industrial Light and Magic once again raises the bar, melding the computer generated with the real world. The transformations from vehicle to robots are seamless and when battles begin, you can almost smell the charred metal in the air. Though WETA (Peter Jackson's special effects company) still hold the crown for creating the most human computer imaging, ILM knows a thing or three about shiny mechanical things.

The film is also indebted to the slight shoulders of Shia LaBeouf, on which the film's human element rests. On a lesser actor, the role of a car- and girl-crushing teen may have been mere filler between fights. But, as Sam Witwicky, LaBeouf creates a relatable, compassionate lead that lifts the film above the cliché-riddled script.

Many go through life without witnessing a celestial event, but they can surely behold the birth of a star in “Transformers.” This kid has some sort of likability gene spliced in his DNA that few actors possess (Will Smith, Tom Cruise and Tom Hanks are the most recent cases in which it has been found). He is capable of rooting in humanity a film about giant battling robots.
Sam is an everyday kid, not thinking twice about pawning his great, great-grandfather's goods so that he can obtain the car of his dreams (or, at least the car of his allowance savings), and therefore obtain the girl of his dreams Mikaela Banes (played by Megan Fox, living up to her surname, if little else).

But his ancestral artifacts also hold a key to the whereabouts of an energy cube that could decide the fate between two clans of rivaling intergalactic robots. It may also save civilization as we know know it.

If it sounds just too plain kooky for you, than perhaps your ticket would be best spent purchasing the best-selling novel “A Thousand Splendid Suns,” by Khaled Hosseini and curling up on that beach chair. But you may also be robbing yourself of one of the pure, simple concepts of going to the movies in the first place. To see “ Transformers” in a crowded theater with cheering, chuckling fans is one of the few joys left to watching films outside the home (there is also an evil Transformer that changes into a cell phone, which cause some of the younger audience members to think twice before flipping it open and chatting).

To catch it at home on DVD is missing the point.

“Transformers” may not change the minds of many who dismiss director Bay as a talentless hack with an itchy finger on the explosives button, but for once the director has found a home for his munitions porn. He can direct booming action sequences with all the finesse and grace of a ballet. And, thankfully, the film is constructed for just that reason.

Silly, schmaltzy, loud and proud -- “Transformers” is comfortable with its niche, and has the ability to shape-shift your cash into mindless cinematic fun.