So how often does one change the oil in a monster? 3 years/3,000 souls consumed, whichever comes first? Is there a “check monster” light on the dashboard? That would help. Do you take it to an autoshop or a Pet Club? Does the guy still give you a guilt trip? “You know, you really ought to take better care of your monster … she can last you another three/four years if you treat ‘er right.”
A team of drillers unearths three “intelligent” squid-like beings in the course of retrieving oil from the ground. The animals are hard to see at first, likely because the CGI guy was out that day. Hence, the drilling team has a hard time tracking down all three. Dudes, if you’d just go to the animation studio, this can all be over in a matter of minutes… Soon enough, however, the artists are back on the job and hint at one having escaped miles away to a local junk yard, where it is discovered by Tripp (Lucas Till), who fell for the creature almost immediately.
In attempting to discern what a faux-squid eats (crude oil, and nothing else– then why does it have teeth?), Tripp discovers what the creature likes to do the most is compress itself under the hood of a car or truck where normally an engine would be, substitute itself for the internal workings of the vehicle, and drive, Fred Flintstone style, over everything. On the outside, the truck appears normal, which makes for fairly efficient use of CGI, but on the inside, supersquid is turning the axels, a fantastical hybrid monster truck monster truck.
I love how films like this provide just enough science to move the plot along, but leave anyone with a curious mind at a loss. These things live underground in the dark, slimy and wet … how do they react to the light, arid and rough? In the very least, won’t the sun immediately blind the creatures? How can Tripp possible control the creature’s behavior? How does the friction of rotating the axels not take a toll? How can they live on oil? What did you name the squid-like creature?
At this point, I gave up … with the understanding that this film was intended for small boys to get a charge out of Monster Trucks doing monster truck-like things with an actual monster under the hood (wink, wink). And, indeed, the small children around me loved the wall-climbing and rooftop-hopping antics of the Monster Trucks, or one of them, at least. You know, I’m sure Idaho roofs are built to hold several feet of snow, but are they made to withstand the full gravitational force of a monster truck landing? Of course they are.
If you ask me, Monster Trucks was a plot phone-in. Isn’t there usually some sort of moronic contest involved in a film like this? Something along the lines of the “Monster Truck 500,” a rough terrain road race in which our hero will win out, succeeding in the spirit of the event while being in clear violation of the stated-but-undiscussed rules. Yes, the kids will love the behavior of the Monster Trucks. Problem is, there’s precious little of it. The screen is often occupied by Tripp’s love interest (Jane Levy) and a handful of people I felt sorry for (Barry Pepper, Frank Whaley, Amy Ryan, Rob Lowe – was Tim Matheson out when the casting director made that call?). Danny Glover showed
up in a wheelchair so the film could check off two PC boxes at once. Kids don’t want to look at Barry Pepper and sigh thinking about Saving Private Ryan, ditto Whaley and Pulp Fiction; they just want to see the stupid trucks; there weren’t enough of them.
And when it comes right down to it, Monster Trucks is a plot about saving some subterranean beasts from extinction at the hands of oil barons. This gives Monster Trucks a pro-nature, pro-environment bent. On screen, this is done by parading long lines of gas-guzzling, smoke spewing, terrain consuming vehicles over pristine meadows and raw cliff-faces. You know the animals are not actually under the hood when the film gets shot, right? This, to me, is similar to making a Rocky film with the theme that fighting solves nothing. Oh, what the Hell … your less discerning children might find this genius. Monster Trucks strikes as the kind of film you loved as child and revisit twenty years later with your jaw agape, “what was I thinking?!”
♪Who’s that crazy
Messin’ with my yard?
What? A “ monster”
Is this some kind of canard?
What a card!
Look like a blob
Made of blue goo
A Cinderella
From planet Naboo
You’ll be my non-stop motor
My weird squid-man
My non-stop tricked-up ride
That’s the plan
Get out of my shop
Get into my truck
Get off my floor
Get ‘neath the hood there, baby
Give me some good luck
Yabba dabba doo!
Take that great big fin
Get in my engine
I said, “hey, goo!
Get into my truck!” ♫
Rated PG, 105 Minutes
D: Chris Wedge
W: Derek Connolly
Genre: Pretending NASCAR is environmental
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Tonka boys
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: “This is stupid”
♪ Parody inspired by “Get Outta My Dreams, Get into My Car”
