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The (appropriately insane) storyline is definitely cut from the same cloth (or sheet metal, as it were) as the earlier films. No surprise there, as screenwriter Ehren Kruger also had a hand in penning the last two installments. But there's one notable difference this time around: the film's humor. Age of Extinction is the franchise's funniest and (by extension) its most fun entry, thanks to Wahlberg (whose character is always quick to shoot off quips) and a silly sense of self-awareness that rears its head every now and again.

Wahlberg's back-and-forth banter with T.J. Miller (who plays Cade's friend, Lucas) early on in the film doesn't just help to establish the tone for the picture as a fun thrill ride, it's one of the highlights. So is Tucci, who does a better job filling the comic relief role than John Turturro in the installments that came before. The other humans, however, don't fare nearly as well: Grammer is relegated to a villainous role that doesn't afford him much dramatic mobility; Peltz plays a character who's equally as shallow as Megan Fox's Mikaela Banes; and Reynor (whose main asset is clearly that he looks like a cross between Chris Hemsworth and Chris Pratt) seems to be there only because certain scenes require someone adept at a fast and furious vehicular getaway.

Ultimately, this makes Age of Extinction feel like the poster child for the old adage: the more things change, the more they stay the same. In fact, it may even be the most Michael Bay-ish movie that Michael Bay has ever made, chocked full of the director's signature flourishes, left, right and center. At just 15 minutes shy of 3 hours, the movie is an orgy of slow-motion lolyygagging, pyrotechnic pirouettes and more action clichés than you can shake a giant Cybertronian sword at. Bay is moderately successful at masking the homogeneity of the action set pieces by churning out a globe-trotting adventure — taking the characters from Texas, to Chicago, to Beijing and then Hong Kong — and throwing the fan-favorite Dinobots into the mix, but it makes little difference by the film's conclusion, when the specifics of any one action sequence have become nigh impossible to recollect. However, isn't that precisely the kind of popcorn entertainment that Bay's name has become synonymous with? For him to deliver anything else would be akin to a betrayal of his own brand. And lest we forget, this is a film franchise forged on the popularity of a toy line, so brand loyalty is to be expected.

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