The 1980s Transformers movie looms large in my memory. I can still feel a part of me reacting to moments I first saw when I was maybe five years old, watching a VHS recording at a neighbor’s place. But I hadn’t experienced the full film itself in a very long time, only sometimes revisiting iconic moments on YouTube, and I wondered how I would view it through the eyes of someone well past childhood. 

There are a few things I’ve come to realize by watching The Transformers: The Movie again. Namely, I can see even more clearly why it was such a cultural touchstone for the young fans, and why it was so confusing and strange for adults. To the parents, film critics, and other older folks, Transformers likely spoke in a visual language that was disorienting and didn’t bother to differentiate characters in ways that made sense. 

But the kids, including myself, were essentially raised on the kind of collect ’em all mentality that involved different color schemes for boxy robots. Certainly, collectible toys existed in the past, but this was a post-He-Man world, where the sheer variety of action figures were tied to unique personalities that kids could know and love (or hate). Much has been written about how the death of the heroic leader Optimus Prime was a turning point/moment of trauma for a lot of children. 

Younger people reading this might wonder why this was a big deal beyond the obvious pain of having a fan favorite pass, but the key thing to know and remember is that death was unheard of in cartoons of the 1980s. No one ever got permanently hurt, lasers and guns would blow up vehicles but never people, and each episode’s ending reset to a status quo so that shows could go on forever, or even run episodes out of order if need be. What makes this all the more astounding is that the decision to kill off Optimus—and a large chunk of the cast—was the result of a cynical decision to make way for new toys to sell. The people in charge thought that the children saw Transformers as playthings, only to realize that they had introduced fascinating personalities and role models to which those kids could get attached. Even if the catalyst was simple capitalism, the result was an awareness of the power of fiction. 

One thing I realized anew is how the relationship between Starscream, Megatron, and Unicron plays out. Throughout the original Transformers TV cartoon, Starscream is a conniving soldier whose ambition is to overthrow Megatron and take over as leader of the Deceptions. He also never truly succeeds because he’s a coward who jumps the gun at the slightest sign of weakness, only to have it all backfire. On top of that, Megatron is simply more powerful than him, and he can’t hope to actually win in a fight. 

But when Starscream sends a weakened Megatron to his death, and the latter is exposed to a being far beyond him in the form of Unicron, it becomes clear just how very similar Starscream and Megatron are. Much like Starscream, the normally arrogant Megatron is quick to capitulate when threatened with real harm, but is also just as opportunistic—working towards betraying his new master by trying to obtain the Matrix, the only thing that Unicron fears. The only difference is that Megatron is more patient.

Another takeaway: The movie is basically a series of incredible vignettes kind of sloppily stitched together. The story as a whole is about passing the torch and discovering your potential, and individual scenes have some of the most impressive animation of all time, but the whole thing often feels loose and disconnected. It’s why watching clips of the high points on YouTube or whatever is so effective. Moments like the deadly battle between Optimus and Megatron, the Decepticon leader’s transformation into Galvatron, and the moment when Hot Rod fulfills his destiny with the Autobot Matrix of Leadership never fail to give me goosebumps. The weaker parts I can safely file away in the recesses of my memory. 

If you speak the “language” of Transformers and the kind of merchandising that is its legacy, everything about this movie makes sense. If not, then it all falls apart. I’m curious as to how newer generations of viewers—especially more recent Transformers fans—view this work. It’s a classic in my nostalgia-filled eyes, and I acknowledge all the ups and downs that come with such a perspective.