“Space: the final frontier…”

So goes the opening monologue for each episode of Star Trek (1966-69), a TV series that paved the way for every serious science fiction series in its wake. And yet, for a show that was so fresh and innovative at the time, its brand has become stale and repetitive over the years, turning into a shadow of its former self.

Enter the cinematic reboot Star Trek (2009), an attempt to revitalise the franchise some 43 years after its debut. Helmed by J.J. Abrams (the man behind Alias (2001-2006) and Lost (2004-2010)) and written by Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman (who also brought us The Island (2005) and Transformers (2007)), this is obviously not going to be deep or thought-provoking. With those names behind it, you can bet on things being fairly fun, however, at the very least.

The approach taken seems to be akin to recent Marvel origin films such as X-Men (2000) and Spider-man (2002): keep the fans happy while playing-up the novelty of seeing familiar characters meeting, all while adopting a light and breezy tone. And then throw in a few curve-balls to shake things up a bit.

And for what it is, Star Trek is quite entertaining and pleasant while it lasts, but it has an evaporating quality—it’s a totally forgettable experience. Furthermore, inconsistencies, contrivances and ignored plot points bubble to the surface after any kind of serious consideration. Why did they need to skydive at one point when they could have just beamed-down? (In-story answer: because the transporter was disabled; real answer: because it looked cool and added an element of danger.) Where was bad-guy Nero (Eric Bana) for 20-odd years between when we first see him and when he finally reappears? (Answer: in a sequence on the cutting-room floor.)

As a bonus, this is now the second Star Trek movie in a row to attempt to ape elements from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982). Of course, here Bana as Nero has pretty much nothing to do except look menacing over a viewscreen, and the brain bug that eventually pops up is never mentioned again, but at least they were trying.

The casting is surprisingly solid, however, considering that this could have easily been “Star Trek Babies” instead. Karl Urban in particular seems to inhabit the character of “Bones” McCoy, while Zachary Quinto plays Spock a bit like Dexter Morgan, which maybe isn’t so off-base after all.

In the end, the two main complaints I have of the film both involve pandering to the fanbase. Firstly, it seems that each character must say their respective catchphrase at least once. Secondly, a convoluted time-travel plot is included in order to please the continuity police by creating a new timeline—not only is this a reboot, it’s also a sequel and an alterna-prequel, all at the same time.  Neither of these features are necessary, and in fact they act as distractions, turning the film more into meta-Trek than a Star Trek film proper.

Nitpicks aside, it’s a fun, if frivolous, couple of hours. This Star Trek is for both the masses and the fans, and it’s competent as a science fiction/action extravaganza. Hopefully the sequel will attempt to do something new rather than simply jazzing-up former glories. Will they go where no one has gone before? We’ll see.

Ever since 1988′s Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Robert Zemeckis has increasingly relied on CGI technology in making films such as Death Becomes Her, Forrest Gump and Contact. But it was his animated adaptation of The Polar Express in 2004 where he pushed so-called “motion-capture” technology to its limits, and now, three years later, he revisits it with Beowulf.

The film is, of course, based on the epic poem of the same name, but screenwriters Neil Gaiman (MirrorMask) and Roger Avary (Pulp Fiction, The Rules of Attraction) have crafted a modernised, coherent narrative out of the ancient source text. Here they assume an unreliable narrator in the source, and so Beowulf, originally a singularly heroic character, becomes a flawed man instead. Whether this works for or against the film is open to debate, but it’s hard not to admire the attempt to craft a thematically-unified three-act screenplay out of a poem that was never designed for such.

What deserves greater discussion, however, is the motion-capture technology itself. In The Polar Express, we had a situation that seemed like the worst of both worlds: too artificial to be fully convincing yet too lifelike to think of it as pure animation — it was as if Tom Hanks’ zombie twin had started dancing in Toontown. In Beowulf, things are greatly improved, but it often looks like a videogame cutscene rather than a bona fide film. (This technique would be perfect for a Warcraft film, perhaps.)

Actors such as Ray Winstone, Anthony Hopkins and John Malkovich give wonderful performances, but their digital avatars seem to have lost some of the humanity that might otherwise have existed in a flesh-and-blood portrayal. Robin Wright Penn is the greatest victim to this — her character seems almost lifeless when it comes to facial expressions. On the other hand, Angelina Jolie as Grendel’s mother is photo-realistic and totally convincing.

Something I noticed as I watched Beowulf was how subtle movements were very natural, but broader gesticulation gave the game away — it’s mostly how the characters move that’s the problem, not necessarily how they look.

There are, however, amazing sights to behold, including a battle with a dragon that is truly spectacular, and a flashback involving creatures of the deep that leaves you breathless. Yet the technology hamstrings the efforts of both the actors and screenwriters, and so the spectacle has little weight to it since we really don’t care about the characters. It all feels a bit hollow, like something crucial is missing.

The saddest part is that the creative team have obviously tried their best to create a film with some depth and subtlety as well action and excitement, but the technology has yet to mature. As it is, Beowulf is an interesting and often fun experiment that strives for greatness but still misses the mark.

So it’s an incredible irony that Bay seems to have redeemed himself with Transformers, a film based on a line of toys of all things. Bay’s film not only delivers on its promise of a fun popcorn movie, it revels in its frivolity; this is the film that the abysmal Independence Day wanted so desperately to be, all those years ago.

As the Transformers mythology goes, two warring factions of giant alien robots — the benevolent Autobots and the evil Decepticons — left their homeworld of Cybertron for Earth, where their eternal battle continues. Here they take the forms of ordinary vehicles and devices: leading the Autobots is Optimus Prime, a heroic figure who transforms into a truck and gets to pontificate about freedom and the virtues of humanity, while heading the Decepticons is Megatron, who used to transform into a gun but in the film appears as a jet.

Any man who was a pre-teen in the mid-to-late ’80s probably knows all of this anyway. If nothing else, we all watched the animated series and have some vague expectations for the characterisation of each Transformer, particularly Prime and Megatron, but also fan favourites such as Bumblebee and Starscream. By and large, these characters are recreated fairly faithfully, but it’s true that the humans, not the Transformers, are the focus of the film.

Having the humans dominate proceedings would perhaps have been more problematic were the script not as fun or engaging as it is. There are moments of humour and whimsy sprinkled throughout the film that only occasionally fall flat — Bernie Mac in particular has a cameo that is absolutely hilarious (though potentially offensive to some). Full credit must be given, however, to Shia LaBeouf, who essentially carries Transformers during its slower scenes through sheer charisma alone. Also always nice to see is John Turturro in a supporting role, but the appearance of Jon Voight has to be the most surreal bit of casting since Orson Welles voiced Unicron in the animated Transformers film 21 years ago.

Of course, it’s the third act where the real robot-on-robot action occurs, and this is the payoff for all the exposition of the prior 90 minutes. A kinetic energy takes hold, and suddenly you’re watching two robots destroy the entire floor of an office building, for example, causing destruction and mayhem on such a scale that you can’t help but be awestruck. One can only assume that the sequel will be even bigger.

Sure, there’s a plot that’s buried beneath all this, involving metallic cubes, sexy love interests and pairs of glasses on eBay, but it’s just window-dressing to introduce the premise of this new franchise. Ordinarily, I’d feel insulted by this, but it’s done with such good humour that it’s hard to fault the film for not aspiring towards high art.

Maybe Steven Spielberg (as executive producer) is responsible for Transformers‘ sense of childlike giddiness; I don’t know. All I know is, it succeeds at being a fun and entertaining movie, and that’s all it should need to be.