SHOW US THE MONEY. Forbes.com has published its annual rundown of who’s earning the biggest paychecks in Hollywood… and guess who’s earning less than half of what the men earn? A cookie for you if you guessed “the women”!

Jolie’s cinematic butt kicking made her the highest-paid actress on our annual Celebrity 100 list. Between June 2008 and June 2009, Jolie earned an estimated $27 million. Much of that came from her share of the profits on Wanted, but she also scored a fat upfront check for Salt, an action film originally slated to star Tom Cruise, in which Jolie plays a CIA agent who is accused of being a Russian spy. Judging by scenes filmed on the streets of New York City, the film should have plenty of action to satisfy Jolie’s fans.

Whoa. That’s a lot of money: $27 million? Who’d turn that down?

Well, how about Harrison Ford, Forbes.com’s top-earning male actor?

As is still typical for Hollywood, our actresses earned significantly less than their male counterparts. Harrison Ford was the top-earning actor this year with $65 million, $38 million more than Jolie earned. All told, the top 10 actors earned $393 million, compared with $183 million for the top 10 actresses.

Only a chick would work for chump change like $27 million…

THIS SUCKS. Dodai at Jezebel — my go-to source for feminist snark — noticed something not at all surprising about one hot trend of the moment:

Although there are many vampire books written by women, and a few fierce female vamps — Buffy’s Drusilla, Underworld’s Selene, Let The Right One In’s Eli, Queen Of The Damned’s Akasha. But none of these women have achieved the fame and notoriety male vampires enjoy. A woman’s role in vampire mythology is to get bitten, become enthralled, or both; the undead dudes are the ones with all the power.

I’ll note, too, that the hottest of the hot vampires of the moment — the one Jezebel hilariously dubs “Count Sparkula,” Twilight’s Edward Cullen — has an even great female-crushing mojo: the power to enforce teenage-girls’ celibacy. Telling girls and women they shouldn’t have sex, and that their sexuality is bad, has long been a way to control women… and now Twilight has them longing to be told just that!

MOVIES AS COMMUNAL EXPERIENCE. Tilda Swinton, goddess of cinema, is bestowing her filmic largess in a new way at the moment — she’s bringing a movable film festival to the remote north of Scotland. According to ScreenDaily.com:

Actress Tilda Swinton and Mark Cousins, the former director of the Edinburgh Film Festival, are hitting the Highland trail with the first travelling film festival ever staged in the UK.

The new eight and a half day event, called A Pilgrimage, follows on from The Ballerina Ballroom Cinema of Dreams, which Swinton and Cousins staged in Nairn last summer.

Starting from August 1st, Swinton, Cousins and their team will be touring with a huge 80-seat, 37 tonne cinema, known as The Screen Machine, through remote communities on Scotland’s East Coast.

There are remarkably few cinemas in the Highlands, and they seem to feature mostly Hollywood blockbusters. The traveling festival will go in another direction:

They will be holding digital screenings of films including Akira Kurosawa’s Macbeth-inspired Throne Of Blood (which will be shown in Cawdor), and Peter Watkins’ Culloden (which will be shown on Culloden Moor, the site of the battle that the film depicts.) It will also have a focus on road movies including Preston Sturges’ Sullivan’s Travels (the opening film), Fridrik Thor Fridriksson’s Cold Fever and Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s A Canterbury Tale.

“It will have the same values as last year,” Cousins told ScreenDaily. “There will be a combination of an international range of films with affordable prices and a community (feel) and warmth. We feel that the multiplex experience is a bit cold and under-powered and under-passionate. We want to go the other way.”

Movies as a community experience? How lovely! How, dare we suggest it, feminine…

WHO’S YOUR DADDY? Dorothy Robinson, in her “The Word” column in the free multi-city newspaper Metro, recently:

used the adjectives “gross” and “creepy” to describe Jon Voight calling his daughter Angelina Jolie “sexy.”

That original column isn’t online, at least not that we could find, but what is available is the one in which Robinson collects the outraged responses from readers (“boy did we hear it,” she says). We like this one:

“I can’t believe the piece of anachronistic trash Dorothy Robinson wrote — it’s clearly biased, backwards and highly judgmental! If I had a daughter that looked like Jon Voight’s daughter I would call her ‘sex goddess’, ‘the most sexy creature on earth’ and would be proud of it! Wake up! Close mindedness and puritanism won’t help this country get over its problems. It’s people like Dorothy Robinson that perpetuate the ‘sex’ related issues that most young people have in this country by writing an article suggesting proper ways on how parents should address the fact that they have ‘sexy’ daughters without sounding like perverts!…”

And this one:

“A proud father has every right to say so if he so wishes. It is your twisted brain that makes a nice thing ugly. Wise up.”

We thought it was a bit weird and creepy that Robinson found Voight weird and creepy, but kudos to her for giving her unhappy critics space to have their say.

OPENING THIS WEEK. Being a girl, I am constitutionally unable to resist the siren call of Johnny Depp. I do wish, however, that Public Enemies had given me just a smidgen more opportunity to place myself in the shoes of Marion Cotillard’s Billie, moll to Depp’s John Dillinger. Of course, the movie is about cops and robbers in the 1930s, so it was inevitably going to be all about men, but couldn’t we have had just a bit more about their relationship? It’s still a great film. But someday someone is going to make a great movie about the women in these criminal enterprises, too, right? Like maybe the whorehouse madam whom Depp’s Dillinger clearly respects and trusts as his protector? No?

If you love sitcoms, you’ll love Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, because it places women — well, the one major female character, the mammoth voiced by Queen Latifah — on that unenviable sitcom pedestal: “Ellie” is wise and calm and hugely tolerant of her “husband” (voiced by Ray Romano), and always forgives him his male insecurities and idiocies. Because that’s simply what women have to put up with, you see, if we want marriage and babies (Ellie is pregnant here), and we’re fine with doing so, because they’re saints. Now that’s rendering women cartoonish.

Nia Vardalos is back, so soon after My Life in Ruins, with I Hate Valentine’s Day, which she wrote, directed, and stars in as a woman terrified of commitment, even though John Corbett is madly in love with her. We wish movies like this one didn’t make us choose between supporting women filmmakers and saving our brains from exploding, so we won’t say any more about it.

Legendary French filmmaker and feminist Agnes Varda’s autobiographical Beaches of Agnes opened on limited screens in select cities to sold out houses. Another well-deserved triumph for Varda, now in her 80s.

This time, Cohen crassly exploits the attitudinal discomfort known as homophobia that’s created when heterosexuals, particularly men, encounter aggressive homosexuality. In one scene, sex-crazed Bruno inveigles Representative Ron Paul into his hotel room and tries to seduce him on the pretext of interviewing him about economics; after maintaining his dignity as long as possible, the conservative Texas congressman exits the premises in disgust, muttering, “This guy’s a queer. He’s crazy!” In another, Bruno chats with Paula Abdul who’s served hors d’ouvres off a naked Mexican. (A similar sequence with LaToya Jackson was cut after the untimely death of her brother Michael.) Then there’s Bruno’s ‘adoption’ of a baby in Africa, a thwarted kidnapping in Lebanon and various attempts to ‘go straight’ with martial arts instruction and religious conversion.

Perhaps the most scandalous gag is Bruno’s casting session for glamorous ‘baby’ photo-shoot for which ambitious parents recklessly offer up their offspring. “Is your baby comfortable with bees, wasps and hornets?” he inquires. “Oh, yes, he’s comfortable with everything,” one mother assures him. “Dead or dying animals?” “Yes.” In an even more appalling dialogue, another mother assures him that her 30-pound daughter could lose 10 pounds in one week, if necessary, adding “I’d have to do whatever I could.”

Over the years, British-born Sacha Baron Cohen has developed this rude if riotous alter-ego (Ali G, Borat, now Bruno) and he’s become a cultural phenomenon, an original comic character, exploring radical and risky events, forcing people to challenge their own preconceptions and stereotypes. And director Larry Charles’ choice of ‘reaction shots’ are priceless. As for the R-rating, vulgar, graphic, full-frontal male nudity abounds. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Bruno” is a raunchy, satirical 7. Whether it’s outrageously offensive or offensively outrageous, it’s laugh-out-loud funny.

After breaking out of prison in 1933, notorious bank robber John Dillinger (Johnny Depp) launches a crime wave that infuriates crusading J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup) and his fledgling FBI. Hoover appoints agent Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale) to track down Dillinger and his gang: Baby Face Nelson (Stephen Graham), Pretty Boy Floyd (Channing Tatum), Harry Pierpont (David Wenham), Alvin Karpis (Giovanni Ribisi) and Homer van Meter (Stephen Dorff). Meanwhile, in Chicago, Dillinger falls madly in love with a naïve half-French, half-Native American coat-check girl, Billie Frechette (Marion Cotillard), and convinces her to join him on the lam.

What separates “Public Enemies” from run-of-the-mill cops ‘n’ robbers pictures is how Mann - with screenwriters Ronan Bennett and Ann Biderman - develops Dillinger’s fascinating character, based on Bryan Burrough’s “Public Enemies: America’s Greatest Crime Wave and the Birth of the FBI, 1933-34” (2004). Totally self-assured, Dillinger brags, “I can hit any bank I want anywhere,” confident he’ll never be caught because “They ain’t tough enough or fast enough or smart enough.”

There’s ironic humor amid the shoot ‘em-ups. During a heist, Dillinger doesn’t take a financially strapped depositor’s cash, explaining, “I’m not here for your money; I’m here for the bank’s money.” And, on a lark, he strolls, unrecognized, through Purvis’ office as FBI agents listen to a baseball game, nonchalantly inquiring, “What’s the score?”

Drenched in flawlessly atmospheric authenticity, Johnny Depp is a revelation, while Marion Cotillard (Oscar-winner as Edith Piaf in “La Vie En Rose”) is stunning. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Public Enemies” is an awesome, action-packed, enthralling 8. As of now, it’s a top contender for the Best Picture Oscar, especially since the Academy has decided to expand the number of eligible nominees from five to ten.

Wednesday, July 1

• The Beaches of Agnes (Les Plages de Agnes) - Cinema Guild, 110 mins., limited - Filmmaker Agnes Varda’s brilliant and stylish autobiographical documentary covers her life, times and work from her childhood to the present day, when she, at the age of 80, is still going strong.
• Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs 3D - 20th Century Fox, 93 mins.
• Public Enemies - Universal Pictures, 143 mins.

Friday, July 3

• I Hate Valentine’s Day - IFC Films, 98 mins., limited release - Nia Vardalos wrote, produced, directed and stars in this romantic comedy in which she plays a florest who falls in love in spite of her intentions.
• Lion’s Den (Leonera) - Strand Releasing, 113 mins., limited - an Argentinean feature focusing on Julia (Martina Guzman), charged with killing her lover and sent to prison, where she discovers she’s pregnant and delivers a son, who becomes her life’s sole preoccupation.
• Local Color - Monterey Media, 107 mins
• The Girl From Monaco - Magnolia Pictures, 95 mins., limited - Anne Fontaine directs this French comedy.

PITY THE SMALL-BOOBED GAL. It’s hard to imagine today, but I suppose it really is true that Farrah Fawcett broke feminist ground with the 1970s series Charlie’s Angels. We look back today and all we women who were children then see is fluffy, bikini-clad cheesecake,
but for the time, the Angels broke new ground with their strength and self-determination. It still looks silly to me, but I can convince my brain to accept that.

So it was a bit disconcerting this week, during the retrospectives that followed her death on Thursday morning, to hear Tom O’Neil of the respected Hollywood-watcher blog Gold Derby on CNN (or was it MSNBC?) reduce Fawcett’s contribution to feminism to a certain bravery for having the nerve to appear, on that famous poster that every teenaged boy had on his bedroom wall in the 1970s, in a bathing suit even though her breasts weren’t quite big enough to — in O’Neil’s estimation — truly warrant such near nudity:

O’Neil really said that, and really thought he was paying her tribute.

Jerk.

NO WONDER A WOMAN WANTS TO FLY AWAY. The first trailer for Amelia, one of the most anticipated chick-oriented movies of 2009, has just been released. Directed by Mira Nair, the film focuses on the life and disappearance of pioneering aviator Amelia Earhart:

It long past time for Earhart to be getting the epic Hollywood treatment, and though this trailer isn’t exactly thrilling, Nair’s track record — which includes such wonders as The Namesake
and Monsoon Wedding — continues to inspire me with great hope that this will be one of the better films of this year.

Amelia opens in the U.S. in October.

THE PRICE OF GOSSIP? HIGH! Nikki Finke, an AWFJ member, has sold her insider-y industry blog Deadline Hollywood Daily for a rumored $14 million… an astonishing figure that must be some sort of record for a site that apparently receives relatively low traffic, according to TheWrap.com:

The individual knowledgeable about the purchase price said it would be paid out over several years. Normally such deals are tied to traffic or to revenue projections. Nonetheless, it is an exceedingly
high price for a relatively small website.

Recently, HuffingtonPost.com raised $25 million in new capital against a valuation of $90 million. That site has 8 to 10 million uniques per month, compared to an estimated 200,000 for DHD, according to Quantcast.

Why such a glittery price tag?

Finke, a newsprint journalist-turned-blogger, has been a take-no-prisoners firebrand who has dominated the Hollywood news space online in the past two years. Her frequent scoops are must-reads for industry insiders, but her methods and practices have also raised ill will and charges of favoritism in the profession.

Congrats to Nikki and note to self: Get more scoops, piss off more readers, and score big paycheck…

GIRLS CAN’T BE GEEKS? Johanna Drap Carlson at Comics Worth Reading noticed a most curious qualifier for a contest connected to the upcoming science fiction flick District 9:

This sweepstakes is open only to males who are both legal residents of the fifty (50) United States and Washington D.C. and who are at least between 18-24 years of age as of July 23, 2009

Ironically, District 9 appears to be a parable on discrimination (aliens get the shaft from bigoted humans).

Torie Atkinson at Tor.com — the blog of a respected sci-fi book publisher — gets at the heart of the problem here:

Now I’m going to be generous here and assume that this is an attempt to make the “face” of the film their target demographic (rather than assume they think women are stupid, incompetent, or otherwise less capable). I’m deeply troubled by the assumptions that this kind of stunt makes about fans of comics, gaming, and science fiction. Even beyond the I-can’t-believe-we-still-have-to-tell-people-women-like-this-stuff-angle, there’s a more insidious implication here: that
women wouldn’t generate buzz for this film. Or more precisely: that they don’t want the kind of buzz women would generate for this kind of film.

The tagline is:

They are not welcome
They are not accepted
They are not human

That sounds painfully familiar. Women in the gaming and comics community have been hearing this for too long.

Apparently in response to the online uproar against these rules, IGN has created a separate, second contest for women. And we all know how well “separate but equal” worked last time around…

JENNIFER LYNCH IS A ‘LUCKY FUCKING BITCH.’ No, really, she says so herself:

Put it this way: A lot of people out there are interested in dark things. I wanted to make a movie that I wasn’t apologetic about. And I did. I’m a lucky fucking bitch.

At least, that’s what she told Marshall Fine at his Hollywood and
Fine about her new movie, Surveillance. And what did her father, filmmaker David Lynch, say when he say the film?

My father said, “You’re the sickest bitch I know.”

Ah, for other female filmmakers who would consider than a high compliment!

But there’s always a catch, isn’t there?

Lynch audibly stiffens when it is suggested that her chillingly tense film bears a resemblance to her father’s cinematic adventures in bad craziness.

“I don’t want to sound defensive,” she says. “I do tend to say, ‘That’s not fair.’ But my father is one of my favorite filmmakers. I try not to take it as a criticism. I don’t want to pretend that I
didn’t have the childhood I had. I don’t apologize for anything.”

That’s what we need: More women filmmakers to do what they want to do and need to do to get their films made, and not apologize for themselves.

OPENING THIS WEEK. The concept of the “chick flick” continues to earn its bad name with the arrival of My Sister’s Keeper, a shamelessly schmaltz weepie about a teenaged girl with cancer, her younger sister who refused to donate the organ that will keep her sibling alive, and the mean old mother who’s the villain for choosing between her children.

The concept of the “guy flick” — or as I like to call them, the “dick flick” — doesn’t do much better in Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, which also manages to reduced women to something worthy of only humping motorcycles or being humped by horny robots. (How would a robot possibly know whether a chick is “hot” or “a bitch” anyway?)

There are hardly any women to speak of at all in The Hurt Locker, about bomb disposal specialists in Iraq, but it’s brilliantly directed by Kathryn Bigelow, so that’s cool.

For stories of any substance actually about women, check out The Stoning of Soraya M., about the cruelties meted out to women under Islamic law in postrevolutionary Iran. See my interview with star Shohreh Aghdashloo and Jennifer Merin’s review of the film.

Much lighter and creating a flurry of ‘cougar’ discussion, Cheri, from Stephen Frears based on the novels by Colette, stars Michelle Pfeiffer as the turn-of-the-20th-century French courtesan who takes a lover…the much younger Rupert Friend.

MaryAnn Johanson: Do you feel like you have a different perspective on feminism from Americans and Europeans because you grew up in Iran?

Shohreh Aghdashloo: Iranian women have been practicing their freedom and feminism unconsciously perhaps for the last 30 years. Because every time there was a riot or a protest women were at the forefront of the movement, and now we can see that this movement, which is very much a spontaneous movement, is also very much women-driven. We see women’s faces on the streets of Iran, and according to some statistics, 40 percent of the protesters are women. This is in a country that has been constantly suppressing these women and sending them home, or did not allow them higher education at one point. And what we’re seeing is evidence of their constant war with the government and all the restrictions they were confronted with over the last 30 years.

Now the whole world is watching them and can see how proud and strong they are, and they are ready to lose their lives in order to gain freedom. And they’re still coming out, even after Neda. We thought that they might not decide to come out anymore, that they may be afraid, or their parents might not let them come out, but they keep coming out into the streets. And it’s just incredible.

I knew about this proudness of Iranian women. All these women were told at one point that all they could do was to be good mothers and good wives and obey their husbands and do not even say anything, do not have any attitude. Now they’re out and about and fighting shoulder to shoulder with their men.

I don’t remember where I saw this amazing photo, because at my house we’re glued to the television, Internet, Iranian satellite programs. But the picture shows four men with clubs, running, turning back to look at a woman. She’s wearing a chador, she’s covered. The only thing we see is her face and her hand, and of course her hand is bare, she doesn’t have any gun or weapon to defend herself. She’s running after the men and they’re afraid of her! All she’s done is she’s brought her hand out of her chador like a warning. The picture said, “Here comes the upper hand.” And I just love the idea that here comes the upper hand with no guns in it.

I want to make an album of all these amazing photographs. They give me a strange energy to go ahead, to not be afraid, to pick up this role or not. The notion of fear is always there. But what are they saying, that I was courageous to do this role [in *The Stoning of Soraya M.*] — I mean, look at these women! They are the Zahras now.

Johanson: Are there Western misconceptions about Iranian women that you wish you could change?

Aghdashloo:That was the misconception: How come these women do not stand for their rights? How come they do not defend their rights? Of course they were under such pressure, living in the Islamic world, under Islamic laws — they had to *obey.* This was the kind of culture that was forced on Iranian women coming out of the Shah’s reign, having a voice during the Shah’s reign, having their rights during the Shah’s reign, and then all of a sudden being deprived of all of that, stripped of their rights and their thoughts. They were sent back home and asked not to get involved. Living under such circumstances requires a certain kind of strength. Only a few of them got involved — most of them didn’t have courage or the means to do so. They were robbed of their work, of their professions.

But what they did, when they didn’t have access to education, what did they do? They sent their daughters! For the last 30 years, all I would hear from Iranian women is, “My daughter is getting a doctorate,” “My daughter is in Boston University now,” “I’m sending my daughter to Oxford now.” For the last 30 years, they managed to raise daughters who were not only educated, not only well read, they had seen what is going on in the world. And they’re very much on the same page as their mothers. They stayed in Iran and fought not only for their own freedom but for their mothers’ freedom. This is really incredible. Thirty years of perseverance and constant, constant war with a government telling them they’re not worthy of standing shoulder to shoulder with their men.

Johanson: To look at the wide variety of roles you’ve played recently, it looks like you’ve managed to avoid getting stereotyped into a narrow range of characters. I know you did face that early in your career. Is that still a problem? How has Hollywood’s perception of you changed as you’ve been more successful?

Aghdashloo:My brother and I were laughing about this the other day. He asked me, “How come you’re not doing any terrorist characters anymore?” Since *24* I’ve been classified. I have not, *not* received a terrorist role since then. It’s amazing! And Hollywood never tended to turn me into a stereotyped character. Thank God, and thank them! I played an Eastern European doctor in *The Lake House* with Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock, and “Kavita Rao” in *X-Men,* then all of a sudden Katherine Bell in *Grey’s Anatomy.* I have to tell you that when I read the piece, I called the writer and said, “I will always be indebted to you,” and she said, “Why?” I said: “I said because of the American name you gave me.” It’s been very nice, not being pinned into a stereotype actor. I refuse to do so. I’m not saying that I won’t play another terrorist role, if it’s a dimensional role, if it’s a meaningful piece. At the end of the day, I’m an actor, and I’m looking for juicy roles.

Johanson: Do you have a dream role that you’d love to play?

Aghdashloo: I’ve done Shakespeare in Iran. I did Lady Macbeth — I was very young for it! — and I’ve done *King Lear,* one of his daughters. I’d love to do Shakespeare here, but I know I can’t, not with my accent and my features, there’s no way. Unless it’s a modern version of Shakespeare.

Another thing I’d love to do and I would never be able to do is Isadora Duncan. I am fascinated by this woman’s life and destiny.

My favorite role that I’ve been wishing I would do is Indira Gandhi, her life and her works and what she did for India, and how important her role was in turning the page on India’s history. This woman is just incredible. I’m hoping that one day I’d be able to do it, but so far I haven’t received any offer. People are telling me know that I should start my own production company and do my own films, and this is what I’m thinking of.

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“Revenge of the Fallen” is not escapist popcorn fare — unless your popcorn has been seasoned with NoDoz instead of butter and salt. Just because it’s mindless doesn’t mean it’s entertaining and compelling to watch. Repetition and stupidity turn this overindulgent special-effects show into a test of endurance.

While 2007’s “Transformers” had a certain amount of charm and imagination, along with the aforementioned gigantic metal toys, the sequel primarily consists of humans and machines behaving in annoying ways. Not that that matters; this movie is more interested in destruction and mayhem than likable characters or logical actions.

Two years have passed since the good Autobots and the evil Decepticons, machine creatures from another planet, battled it out on Earth in 2007’s “Transformers.” Their antics have been dismissed as urban legends, and only conspiracy theorists suspect that events of an extraterrestrial nature took place. In the meantime, the Autobots have been working secretly with the U.S. government and military to track down and destroy hiding Decepticons, but that’s about to change thanks to a stubborn national security chief, Galloway (John Benjamin Hickey), who thinks the Autobots are attracting trouble.

Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf), the Los Angeles teenager who was caught in the crossfire of the alien war, is now heading to college back East. Not only is he leaving behind anxious mother Judy (Julie White) and relieved father Ron (Kevin Dunn), he’s also abandoning his Autobot guardian, Bumblebee, and babe-alicious girlfriend, Mikaela (Megan Fox), with whom he hopes to maintain a long-distance romance. Sam’s hopes for a normal life are dashed by scheming Decepticons who discover that Sam holds the key to ancient Autobot secrets that could empower the Decepticons and destroy Earth.

Director Michael Bay’s movies often seem to have passed directly from pitch to production, with little writing in between, but screenwriters Ehren Kruger and Roberto Orci have outdone themselves in fading from pertinence here. Although most of the characters are returnees from the first film, any affection they’ve engendered is offset by cliché and inane actions, and the new characters are a rogues’ gallery of irritating beings, starting with Galloway but continuing with Sam’s Bill Gates-wannabe roommate, Leo (Ramon Rodriguez), two trash-talking Autobots and a sexist Decepticon.

In the main cast, males outnumber females five to one, but no worries. The women paint a spectrum from jealous sexpot/damsel in distress (Fox) to overprotective/erratic/imbecilic mom (White) to predatory she-beast (Isabel Lucas as Alice). The diversity is astounding. Not that the men are treated with any more respect, but at least LaBeouf, military men Josh Duhamel and Tyrese Gibson and ousted agent John Turturro are allowed a patina of heroism.

The dialogue, such as it is, is barely audible, and with metal constantly pounding on metal and ammo disintegrating everything onscreen into dust, it’s hard to get excited about the action sequences. “Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen” promises summer-movie eye candy, but it’s less than meets the eye.