Back in 2014 I wrote the one film review I shall point you towards if you want the usual hyper critical and cynical-flowery descriptions towards a "bad movie" from me. I wrote this review so I would never have to again.
And of course, it's for Transformers: Age of Extinction.
If you want a review from me of something you'd think I'd equally hate, just Find and Replace your way to victory.
Let us begin.
There is a slice of a theory put forward by Roland Barthes called the Enigma code. The short (and no doubt incorrectly recalled from my old film class knowledge) version is that a text, like a film, strings together all these questions to hook the audience in, getting them invested to find the answers.
Transformers: Age of Extinction makes me ask a lot of questions.
And I get no fucking answers.
Transformers 4 made me have multiple strokes while watching it. It is putrid, it is vile on the eyes, it is a narrative hodge podge lost in really shitty politics and allegories, it is the poison that fucks over nature's balance, it is the reason people like the Nazis existed. Female circumcision in the midst of a bloody coat hanger abortion is better than this movie, and this sentence I am currently writing is not a slice offensive when compared to T:AOE.
There are no lessons learnt. There is no arc. Mark Wahlberg's character is a failed inventor who yearns to build something that will be important...and then in two hours time that's completely forgotten so he can fire his Transformer swordgun.
His daughter is pointless. Not even exploited as eye candy (Okay I can't lie, of course she fucking is. Complete with classy cameltoe shot. Jesus Bay, get your Brazzers shit out of here)
The boyfriend is...what. He flaunts creepy Texan laws to make it okay to fuck Wahlberg's underage daughter. I now know more Texan laws that I didn't want to.
The guy from Silicon Valley is in it for a bit, which makes it kinda watchable...until he's obliterated and turned into a T-1000 statue, having been exploded into a metal skeleton post-bombing...in a kids movie.
When the fuck does Stanley Tucci show up with all his story stuff? Oh. Over an hour in.
When the fuck do the DINOBOTS show up? NEAR THE FUCKING END.
WHO IS THE BAD GUY?! Is it Fraiser? Is it Tucci? Is it Gunface? Is it Megatron? Is it Galvatron? Is it the Transformers that made the Transformers? Is it Man? WHO THE FUCK IS IT?!
WHERE IS THE CONFLICT?
WHY ARE WE IN CHINA. Oh. Profit! Why does everyone in China know martial arts?!
WHY IS THE RACIST SAMURAI A EUROPEAN SUPERCAR?!
WHY IS JOHN GOODMAN IN THIS. WHY DOES MICHAEL BAY WIN OVER ALL THESE DIFFERENT COEN BROTHERS ALUMNI AND THEN TURN THEM TO UTTER SHIT?!
SO MUCH PRODUCT PLACEMENT.
The aspect ratios are so fucked up!
Optimus Prime is so fucked up! He vows to break his vow not to kill people!
OH MY FUCKING CHRIST.
It is so fucking excessive. It's the foot long cock at the tailend of a gangbang. It's the cocktail of shit covered semen being tossed like dice into the face of the audience.
Explosions! Destruction! Transforming! BUT TO 11!!
It's like Bad Boys II, but with more ADHD, less grace and flair, and just utter clusterfucking hullaballoo.
It's not self-aware, it just doesn't know when to stop.
At three hours, you can see my point.
I was constantly checking my watch and yawning. There's no character stuff, there's too much repetitive action. People leave. People return. Where the fuck do half of the characters go?! They only show up again for lame moments! It's a film full of moments with no cohesion.
It's a mess. It's the shits I have when my diet hits the spice. It's the stroke that causes my nose to bleed more than a girl's locker room shower when the softball team have had their time of the month synched.
There's so much more bullshit I haven't even scraped the surface with Michael Bay's cocaine nail.
I fucking like you Michael Bay. I'm your biggest defender. An optimistic fan.
WHAT THE CUNT ARE YOU DOING?! WHOSE SCRIPTS ARE YOU READING?! YOU HAVE TALENT.
But you don't use it.
Fucking just use IMAX cameras exclusively. Get a tight script. Make a 90-120 minute movie. Less is more. You have the potential, but you keep squandering it on movies with flat characters and Macguffins and sexism, racism, male gaze, machismo, painfully destroyed Coen Brothers alumni, flashing lights, particle effects, etc, etc, etc.
You're worse than a 90s house music video while tripping on acid. You are lower than pond scum. You're the smegma of an unloved senior's cock and you make me want to vomit. So much.
From my brain.
Fuck you Michael Bay of 2014. Fuck you very much.