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Film Review: Transformers: Age of Extinction
See the idiots troop two by two down the corridor. See them settle into their chairs and break out their phones. See the sea of bright screens bob about as everyone furiously texts and tweets and facebooks each other. Back and forth and back again, all the while stuffing handfuls of junkfood into their stupid mouths and loudly chatting away with their co-dependants. Why do people go to see movies anymore? It certainly has nothing to do with watching a movie. Are people so rich these days that they’re happy to piss away their money on a movie ticket, an overpriced bucket of corn and a jug of soda, so they can sit in the dark and fiddle? Is this what people do now? People make me sick.
I’ll tell you what, though. This has become a direct reflection of the shit that’s getting put on the screens these days. As little as the so-called audience cares about the film on the screen, the filmmakers themselves care even less about the idiots who buy a ticket. The latest offensive weapon in the Transformers franchise is yet another example of how low Hollywood blockbusters can get, and how incredibly far Michael Bay has fallen as a filmmaker. I mean, he was never at a very high standard, but frankly after this I wouldn’t trust him to film a wedding. He’d probably stage an assault on the church and blow up the cake. Michael Bay believes that the two key ingredients that a film needs to succeed are incoherence and patriotism. He’s now honed this to such a fine point that the latest film kind of feels like being hit over the head repeatedly with the American flag. For Three Hours. Yes that’s right, this bloated, ridiculous mess goes on for three freaking hours. There is no reason in the entire universe that can justify it needing to be three hours long. Hell you could tell what little story there is in 30 minutes, including an ad break for more corn. But this is not the desperate flailing of people trying to wring one more drop of water from a stone. This is what happens when people will see a movie no matter how bad it is, just because it has explosions in it. There’s nothing of substance left here, so oddly it’s become a bloated mess of convoluted plot points, plot holes, and more and more stupid action sequences.
Uhhh, the plot. Well, ah the humans are killing all the Autobots, with the help of some kind of weird robot. They then chase after Optimus when they find him, and then there’s a big battle. And Marky Mark is involved. And at the end, as some kind of shitty cherry on the stupid cake, some robot dinosaurs. Yes, that’s right: robots that transform into dinosaurs. To blend in with all the other dinosaurs. Because... I believe if we pursue this any further we will go batshit insane. I think there comes a point in time where you realise that what you thought was a relationship is not actually reciprocal. I’m sitting in the theatre paying attention, but Michael Bay doesn’t care anymore. It’s debatable as to if he ever did. And that attitude is now being reflected back at the screen, where people don’t really care either. I guess the next move will be when filmmakers stop caring that we stopped caring about filmmakers not caring any more.
At this point I feel I should apologise. I knew exactly how bad this film was going to be, and I went and watched it anyway. And judging from the money this thing has made, a lot more are going to be made despite the fact that you would find it a challenge to identify someone who actually liked it. So I’m sorry I spent money and time watching this stupid insult to my intelligence. I’m sorry I was even vaguely curious about how far down the sewer pipe Bay could drag action movies. I’m sorry that I’m partially responsible for the gross amount of money this hateful thing has made, and if you saw it them I’m sorry you did too. We need to be serious about this. In a world of sequels and superhero films the likelihood of getting a smart, unique and thoughtful action movie is becoming more unlikely with each passing summer. It is past time that we started getting picky about the kind of shit we watch. It’s time we recognise that there are only so many films we’ll be able to watch before we die, and that the success or failure of each one goes on to influence the new ones trying to get made. Some movies just simply shouldn’t exist. And the Transformers movies easily qualify to be loaded into a cannon and fired into the sun.
I think the best summary I have for this abomination is that near the end Optimus starts going on about honour in battle and everyone in the audience, and I do mean everyone, started putting on their jackets, and picking up their stuff, and fidgeting around in their seats. They all knew that the film was almost over and they were getting ready to get up and leave. They don’t care that the film isn’t actually over yet. They don’t care about the film at all. All they care is getting back to the car and going on to the next vague distraction. And to be fair, a vague distraction is all this film is. Why should they care about this movie? The movie clearly doesn’t give a shit about them. Zero dinosaurs out of five.
- Peace out

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