


See, this is where stuff starts our brains spinning. We see Optimus Prime on his deathbed, plucked almost directly from The Transformers: The Movie. We see Menasor! (He’s the combined form of the Stunticons, who do not appear in this trilogy.) Image: Netflix

Well, why is anything important? Because it happened before, OK? When we were five years old. Even the first Michael Bay movie put Transformers on a dam. We see Megatron with a flail and Optimus Prime with an axe fighting on top of Sherman Dam, because that’s an original cartoon scene so important that they even did that scene in the original comics. We see Optimus Prime kneeling down to talk to Spike Witwicky and Spike’s father, Sparkplug. I’d say it could also be Buster Witwicky from the comic (the shirt does look kinda pink), but let’s not kid ourselves. Image: Netflixįirst we see Bumblebee talking with Spike Witwicky, the Autobots’ human friend from the original cartoon. This is wrong! It’s so wrong that even Optimus Prime’s Matrix-less chassis starts throwing a fit and showing him images of the way things were supposed to be. In a major departure from most Generation One Transformers retellings, Optimus Prime, Megatron, and their double crew of warring robots actually survive their double crash on prehistoric Earth! They just get up off the floor easy as they please, rather than taking a four million year nap. So let’s talk about the Beast Wars-inspired Transformers: War for Cybertron: Kingdom. But for this chapter we’re out for fresh blood: the ’90s!Īs we traversed Kingdom’s six episodes, we asked the tough questions: “Who’s that?” “Where are we?” “Why are we floating in space like this?” “At what point did this clearly stop pretending to be in any previous continuity whatsoever?” “So, like, Blackarachnia’s like super gay, right?” We’re back, and we’ve made it to Transformers: War for Cybertron - Kingdom, the third and final chapter of the Netflix-exclusive Transformers cartoon! The first two chapters, Siege and Earthrise, allowed us to dig up and examine the frequently exhumed corpse of ’80s pop culture.
