Friday, July 1, 2011

Ruff Day For Michael Bay



By Stella Cole, Top Critic
Hollywood, California

Personally, I don't think it's very likely that advanced alien life forms are comprised of gears and hinges, sheet metal and turbines. Even today, this kind of technology is already becoming antiquated. Don't get me wrong - I get why it works from Hasbro's perspective. Transformers are the ultimate playthings of little boys around the world - familiar, yet sophisticated. Powerful, yet relatable. But I couldn't help but ponder why this would be such a powerful draw as to compel Michael Bay to dedicate his life and career to a line of 80s action figures. Then it came to me. It's so clear! "Michael Bay" is actually just three little boys, standing on each other's shoulders, wearing a trench coat and pretending that they're one of the most powerful men in Hollywood.



Case in point: Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon. From the bad acting, to the schmaltzy script, to the over-the-top action sequences, to the wide pans of Rosie Huntington Whitely's impeccable body and empty, soulless expressions, this movie is only suitable viewing for boys under the age of 10. We're still stuck with Sam Witwicky, who is now 3 months out of college and unable to find a job in DC, as saving the world, twice, doesn't count as job experience. Meanwhile, something top secret happened on the moon a long time ago, and some other shit hits the fan at Chernobyl. Yadda yadda yadda, Sam has to help Optimus Prime and pals stop the Decepticons from opening a time/space portal, transporting their dying world into Earth's atmosphere, and enslaving all humans. For some reason, Patrick Dempsey is hot for this idea, and helps the Decepticons carry out their evil plan.

But did any cool cars turn into giant robots?, you might be asking. Yes, of course. And John Malkovick was there, and Frances McDormand, and John Turturro, and nobody died if you knew their name. A couple of modern rock ballads were sprinkled in, only confirming my suspicion that Michael Bay is made out of kids. You were never sure when you were watching the dramatic climax, everything that happened, at all, happened at level 10 intensity. Did I mentioned it's 2 1/2 hours long? That's 150 loud, slow, tedious minutes of robots punching each other to death.

Summary: Oh, but if you don't pay money to see this movie, it means you hate America.

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