[Insert joke about general horribleness here] – Transformers: Age of Extinction
It’s hard to explain why one still goes to see the Michael Bay Transformers movies, which are churned out with a remarkable regularity in this new millennium. Is it a morbid curiosity, the same impulse that makes us crane our necks to scan the twisted crimson wreckage of a highway accident? Is it an obedience to the little kids inside, who owned the toys and watched the cartoon and read the comics, who begged and pleaded for someone, anyone to take them to see the Orson Welles(!)-infused Transformers: The Movie during its blink of a theater run? Is it a Lucy/Charlie Brown/Football thing, spawned by the fact that the first Bayformers movie was, amazingly, pretty good?
Probably all three in the case of this viewer. So here we are again, with another Michael Bay monstrosity. And, as hard as it is to believe, this is the worst one yet. Nigh unspeakably so. In some cinematic Stockholm Syndrome corollary, it makes dreck like Revenge of the Fallen seem almost palatable by comparison. Can you give out negative stars?
Transformers: Age of Extinction reboots the series, ditching all the human cast of the first and inserting a new bunch of fleshlings to take all the spotlight away from the characters that the franchise is supposed to be about. We exchange Shia “Career Implosion” LaBoef for Mark “9/11 ain’t happening if I’m on that plane, bro” Wahlberg, in what’s essentially a lateral movie. And what we get is the loudest, dumbest mound of garbage yet spawned by Bay and co. My mind can barely process the myriad things that this movie botches. I’m going to try on the next page, which will contain spoilers — really, who cares? — and perhaps some foul language. You’re warned.
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