Optimus Prime, Father To The Fatherless

In 1986, the original Prime did something that distinguished him from most other cartoon heroes. He died. He died for freedom, for righteousness”. Scott Brown of Wired Magazine goes on to assert that American culture American males are looking forward to the July 4th release of the “live-action” Transformers movie for “more than galvanic summer thrills or simple nostalgia. They’re looking for redemption, as men.”

“Prime practically parented the latchkey kids of the mid-”80s. He was our Allfather at a time when flesh-and-blood role models were increasingly few and far between”.

I remember scrambling to the television when voice actor Peter Cullen would command the troops to “Roll out!” and my second father with a voice like John Wayne playing Abraham Lincoln would contort into a Mack Truck, rev his engine, and roll his crushing 16-wheels down the heroic highway, barreling over the face of evil with unstoppable resolve. An action figure, Rubik’s cube, and Tonka toy all rolled into one, combined with an unshakable morality and sacrificial love, even the “tech specs” on his packaging in 1984 proclaimed his mission to bring freedom to “all sentient beings”. 23 years later, his steely face is plastered on a poster with a single word: “protect”. It’s no wonder so many boys laid their weekly allowance on the energon altar.

Little did we know it would do more than simply enhance merchandising; it would give a generation something to believe in when dad and the local parish had failed; it would give boys an animated role model. and perhaps even a Cybertronian god.

This is why so many people I know are polarized: excited or exacerbated, feverish or furious, titillated or ticked off, by the Michael Bay directed / Steven Spielberg produced return of Optimus and the bots, transforming into box office revenue on 2007’s Independence Day.

The question on everyone’s lips: “When Papa comes truckin’ home, will we recognize him?”

With a lack of faith in earthly fathers, and lacking a relationship with God, who is our Father, I can see the grand attraction of a robot that is both “Optimal” and in his “Prime”. Intentional or not, there is something godlike built into the stoic Autobot Commander, a titanium trinity imaging a loving Father, a sacrificial Son, and even an indwelling Spirit represented by the “Matrix of Leadership” he carries in his heart (or cab). To a lesser degree, he also represents a rugged, brass-knuckle, rubber-meets-the-road manliness that contemporary culture has slowly leeched from its men. Optimus Prime is a desperate grab for God, daddy, and lost masculinity.

“With bated breath and shaken faith we await the return of our Almighty Rig. Because without Prime, we’re stuck with whiney Spider-boys, metrosexual pirates, and koan-spouting kung-fu Christs in designer sunglasses and unisex clubwear. Because these days, the only real men left are giant robots.”

Just a toy? Purely nostalgia? I don't think so. Truly, there is something going on here that is more than meets the eye.