Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

If a critic screams in a middle of a Michael Bay film and the film is too loud for anyone to hear, did it ever actually occur?-My thoughts, after leaving the Transformers screening.

Okay, so I didn’t actually scream in the middle of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. But I sure wanted to.
Part of my dismay was not just the film’s bone-crushing noise, stupefying action, gung-ho conservatism, thinly-veiled racism, predictable sexism, bloated running time (two and a half freaking hours!), and crass commercialism (actually, compared to the film’s other sins, the crass commercialism is kind of quaint)—it was knowing that no matter what I say, it won’t amount to squat. Transformers II is going to make its buckets of money, paving the way for a third and possibly even a fourth iteration of this soulless franchise. Hoo-yah.

“That was AWESOME!”-Actual 11-year-old boy leaving the Transformers screening.

I suppose it could be argued that the world can be divided into two groups of people: Those who want to see giant robots battling for world supremacy and those who don’t. And maybe the people who fall into the former group can actually distinguish their Autobots from their Decepticons because I sure couldn’t. They all looked like giant heaps of moving scrap metal to me. (This is no small complaint, by the way. In the fight scenes, and there are many, I could never tell who I was supposed to be rooting for.)
The plot in a nutshell: Giant robots have been battling since the beginning of time; now the good robots, who are working in league with U.S. Military, are in danger of being overtaken by the Decepticons unless our hero Sam (Shia LeBeouf) can stop them. Discuss among yourselves.
Much like the original Transformers, director Michael Bay takes time out from his robot smackdowns and military maneuverings to goose us with sit com level jokes, and titillating, lad-mag sexuality. To wit, I give you Megan Fox as Sam’s mechanic girlfriend. Her character essentially amounts to a combination between a Carl’s Jr. ad and a Maxim photo spread. She spends a lot of time licking her lips in half shirts and running in slo-mo. And they’re calling this actress the next Angelina Jolie? Squirrel, please.
The jokiness comes in the form of Julie White and Kevin Dunn, reprising their roles as Sam’s kooky parents; Ramon Rodriguez as Sam’s conspiracy-minded, wimpy college roommate; and Jon Turturro, back as former secret agent (now working in his parents deli) Simmons, who joins the film midway to add more unnecessarily twitchy humor. (When Shia LeBeouf is your leading man, you kind of already have the twitch factor covered.)
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the offensive stereotype of the foolish Autobot twins, who speak in street jive (one even has a gold tooth), are bumbling incompetents, and can’t read. I don’t even know where to begin, so I’ll defer to this guy, who nails it. (Head’s up: If you click, you are moving from a PG kinda site, to an anything goes kinda site. You’ve been warned.)
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen left me exhausted, in a foul mood, with a pounding headache, and a general feeling of concern for the future of our youth. In short, it was a Michael Bay film.