Transformers: shitty movies in disguise.

Originally Posted 6/23/2009.

With the release of Michael Bay’s new Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen slated to open tonight at midnight, I thought I’d give my input on what I expect the film to be. Of course, why wouldn’t I post my review of the first installment of the movie series first?

Movie Armageddon? Nope, just Another bad Bay Flick.

It’s actually quite commendable. A big name, a classic cartoon series, and everyone knows who, and what, they are. There were no numbers after the title, destroying any “hopes” of another over-hyped, horrible sequel. The previews highlighted bold car chases, and a delicate yet deep interplay between man and machine. Everything was going well. Then the movie was set loose upon the world. I, like many hopeful movie-goers, flocked to my local theatre to re-live my childhood. I think I might have rather watched repeats of Barney episodes. The five dollar bill I wasted on the ticket for this cinematic cesspool could have been better spent wiping whatever shit remained from between by ass, or what was being displayed on the massive screen; the difference is one step above nonexistent. This is a fantastic movie, if one is a masochist and delights in seeing their childhood slowly drawn out onto the streets and horrifically slaughtered for a terribly long two and a half hours. After watching both Pearl Harbor and The Island, also directed by Michael Bay, I can hardly contain my outrage that he was still allowed to excrete this one-hundred and fifty million dollar gang-raping of American cinema. The funds used for this movie’s production could have been better spend feeding thousands of starving African children, yet Mr. Bay defiantly opted instead for this metallic, loud, over-confident, pompous, self-congratulatory theatrical wet dream. If there was an award for overuse of cliched lines, this movie would take top honors. It would sweep the razzies hands down, beating out any Jean-Claude Van Damme film, or anything starring Stephen Segal. Even if one gave a serious effort, I doubt a worse movie could be crafted (that is, unless, you’ve ever seen Manos: The Hands of Fate). How Michael Bay is still allowed call himself a director, let alone allowed to make “movies” is far beyond my comprehension. At best, his talents should be reserved for B-Grade porn flicks. Commendable performance for a three year old. This movie’s only virtue can be appreciated by a pre-pubescent boy looking to cop a cheap feel on his first date, for this film would provide ample opportunity for his “Megatron” to receive “that magic cube;” the female object of his affection obviously disinterested in the babbling nonsense before her. Avoid this movie at all costs, I’d rather receive a coffee enema from a Peruvian dwarf named Mr. Bigg, and/or an extremely vicious, homo-erotic male wet-nurse. For mindless entertainment with class, watch Snakes on a Plane, which at least had the decency and courage to remain named “Snakes on a Plane,” not to mention its casting of Samuel L. Jackson in the title role.

So there you have it. Obviously I’m not exactly looking forward to Revenge of the Fallen. Per se. I’m still going to see it. Why? I’m feeling a little masochistic.

Here are five things I expect to see:
1. Another post-production orgasm that contains nothing but CGI and green screen fuckery.
2. Another absolutely riveting performance by Megan Fox’s tits.
3. Shia LaBeouf will be completely filthy by the end of the movie, yet will still get laid.
4. Overt sensationalism.
5. Michael Bay sitting in the back of the theater jacking off with a palm lined with $100 bills.