A Good Review of TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE

A good review of TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE can only exist if written by someone intoxicated, or by some poor sad human being whose standards are so fucking low that all they need is Michael Bay and some shitty-ass robots to make them happy. This imaginary thumbs up review, probably kickin it Harry Knowles style, would have to ignore the fact that the film's a peice of shit, and spend the bulk of their 750 words meandering into stories of their nostalgic feelings for the 80's cartoon and how badass those toys were. They might talk of their ironic hipster love of robots (along with pirates, penguins, ninjas and Kevin Smith). They would have to be goddamn drunk, or laying on the ground wallowing in the dirt of our culture while the wrote that review, to spend so little time discussing the film's content beyond robots, explosions and Megan Fox, for fear of stumbling on the fact that it fucking sucks. Not in a so bad-its-fun-SHOWGIRLS sort of way, either; there are no lapdances in TRANSFORMERS. Instead, there are tediously long scenes existing only to support a SNL-esque punchline, actors taking their roles about as serious as a toddler forced to play Peter Cottontale in the school play, and action sequences too cluttered and ridiculous to bring any sort of thrills. Thank fucking GOD those reviews don't exist, beyond forgettable trinkets of water cooler small talk.

Like any the video-recorded performance of any high school play in America, TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE features awkward camera work by a parent who could give a fuck, teenagers and their winking silliness making jokes about a time they don't understand, and an audience seemingly content just to see people they know run around on stage in funny costumes. It features a bigger budget and more attractive teenagers than I remember from high school, but the the principles are the same. Only difference is people go to high school plays because they half to, and I've got no fucking idea why anyone would want to go see TRANSFORMERS. They must go in part for some escapist goodtimes, and to feel nostalgic for nonsense from your childhood, but where are the standards? I'm kind of a dick I guess, but I need a little more than explosions and a memory rush of remembering the first time I got a boner. I like popcorn. It doesn't have to be high art and foreign for me to have a good time. I spent the better part of a couple weeks ago watching only GOSSIP GIRL, so clearly my standards aren't IMPOSSIBLE. Just imagine if they'd spent another week on the script, and hadn't followed that test screening note that said "more jokes," and developed a sci-fi movie beyond your stupid, meaningless nostalgia? TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE could have been pretty cool, if Spielburg had directed rather than just throwing money into Michael Bay's trust fund. Instead, we're left with two hours of Shia poorly ripping off old vaudville routines with stupid talking robots over a story that only makes sense if you're high.