Transformers - More than licks my ass

I like Michael Bay movies. I love awaiting people's reaction to me telling them that one of my favourite movies to watch repeatedly over the last 13 years is 'The Rock'. Reaction is generally shock and/or laughter but that's ok, it's the last time I will ever speak to them.
The few reviews I happened to read before seeing Transformers:Revenge of the Fallen, promised me much the same as I got with the first film, just 'longer, louder and stupider'. Brilliant. Bring it on.

I normally try to avoid seeing blockbusters on the Friday or Saturday night of opening week, where some young clown is bound to fuck up my movie-going experience by trying to peacock his way into some little hoe's undies. 

There is a little red riding hood behind me and eddie in the queue. She is potentially looking at me but I'll do the same thing I always do: jack shit. She's there with her dad and brother by the looks but she's easily legal. In front of me is a loner. Flying solo on a Friday night? He must really love his transforming robots. Sitting on the floor a few metres away is a muslim chick in full burka kit. I'll spend the next few minutes trying to think of an original sexist and/or racist comment to make to Eddie about her but I fail - a good thing because as the queue starts to move she gets to her feet and joins the 'loner' who wouldn't have liked the terrorist slurs about his sub-missus that never came to fruition. 

Back to the film...

I still can't fuckin' tell what these robots are doing in the action sequences. Not only that, but I thought I could default to coloured robots=goodies, silver bots=baddies. Not even. And not a good start. 

Shia is king(Matt is spot on). Megan is super hot. The forest sequence is ace. Witwicky's parents are gun. 

However, there are only so many dirt explosions I can sit through before I start gettin bored - and yes I can't believe I'm saying that. I was on my seat's edge at the end of The Rock and got all homo and choked up when Harry cops death for AJ so he can fly home and pound his little girl. I felt neither emotion here. Bugger.

For the last 15 minutes I was thinking about red riding hood further along my row, and how a song about her favourite things would include The Rock, Shia and doggy.

I should've been thinking about the movie. 

It's not your fault, Shia. Or yours, Michael.

It's you Steven. You fucked it. But I'll still buy the DVD.

PWT