Monday, June 29, 2009

Transformers Review

Transformers 2: Revenge of the Nondescript Subtitle is the prettiest clusterfuck I have ever seen.

Every cent that hack/manchild Michael Bay got for making this movie should go directly to the computer animation department, which did a heckuva job. All the rest of the film's profit should get split amongst Megan Fox's lips and breasts.

The movie's plot is so jumbled that pointing out all of the plot holes doesn't work because (1) the plotholes themselves have holes, and (2) any criticism of the plot gets sucked into the swirling mass of the plot as though it were black hole. A black hole made up of dick jokes.

And that's the strangest thing about the ...ahem... "film". It can't decide whether it's a kids movie or an adult's movie, so it splits the difference in the worst possible way: everything about it is juvenile and childish, but laden with violence, sexuality, and bathroom/bedroom humor that goes lower than even American Pie. The content is hyper-adult, but delivered in a hyper-childish way. It was so discordant I felt a stroke coming on.

One of the Decepticons has giant balls, OK? And rather than just leave it at the sight gag for only the adults to catch, instead they have an adult (who himself has no purpose in the movie except to act like a clown for the children to laugh at) report to the military that he is, and I quote: "Directly below the enemy scrotum".

I'll let that sink in for a second.
And the kicker? The thing doesn't have a damn scrotum! The balls are just hanging loose out in the air!

Hearing which gags got the biggest laughs in the theater (of at least 2/3 adults) made me fear for the future of America. Apparently, generic insults are HILARIOUS if delivered by a character in a snarky voice. Almost as hilarious as sexual assault. Which is aaalmost as knee-slappingly hysterical as racial stereotypes. Actual jokes? Barely a titter. (heh, heh, I said tit)

And I have never in my entire life witnessed any piece of work so obsessed with manliness and anxious adolescent male wish fulfillment. Someone get Michael Bay some male enhancement, pronto. Or at least a girlfriend who doesn't care about size or potency.

The lead is again hapless loser Sam Witwicky, played by Shaya LaDoof. Despite absolutely no capability or positive qualities, except perhaps the ability to run away and scream, he's set up as some Hero of Destiny with a Matrix of Leadership or some such crap. He's put in there so insecure males can identify with him, and then given importance for absolutely no reason. Everyone cares about him so much, and it just doesn't make any sense. Throughout the movie, literally thousands of soldiers die with almost no attention paid to them. Sam gets injured, and suddenly the battle comes to a complete stop so a full medical team can worry over this one useless kid after ignoring some dying soldiers. Pathetic wish-fulfillment and undeserved ego stroking: quite a recipe for box-office success.

You can actually see Megan Fox grimace when she has to kiss him. She may be quite a looker, but she's no actress, and her revulsion is almost physically palpable. She spends about 10 seconds of the movie with one of the supporting actors (a soldier) and has more chemistry with him than in the hour of screen time she's next to LaDouche.

Shots linger a bit too long on military hardware, until you can almost hear the strains of "America, Fuck Yeah" in the background. Speaking of Team America: in Transformers, a number of priceless Egyptian artifacts are destroyed, including one of the fucking pyramids. By a missile. The parallels are astounding.

There are dick jokes and phallic stand-ins everywhere (guns guns guns!), Optimus Prime has a voice so deep that there is no way you could question his masculinity. There aren't even any female soldiers, despite the fact that half the frames in the movie are full of soldiers. There are only two female transformers, and they each appear on camera just long enough to get killed. Transformers seems to have pretty much one goal: to reassure you that men are men and women are women and you have no reason to be anxious about your gender identity! And shlubby guys are important, too! Even if it's for no reason!

But such is the futility of criticising this movie. It's simply an unstoppable force of stupidity. It's like a core of idiocy that propels forward the fatty/sugary delicious spectacle of the film. Much like the second Matrix movie, it's much improved by simply editing together all of the fight scenes and just watching them.

It's a fun movie to watch, and it's not supposed to make sense. It's supposed to be a pure indulgence. But for all its prettines- oh, I'm sorry, rugged manly handsomeness- I'd rather just have a piece of cake.

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