Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is easily one of the most movies I’ve seen in a long time. And no, I didn’t forget an adjective in that sentence.
It’s genuine dropkick-you-through-the-back-of-the-theater, assault-your-ears-and-eyes-until-they-bleed craziness. And it makes the first installment look like a black-and-white silent film from the 1920’s.
It’s the most movie that can possibly be crammed into 2 1/2 hours.
I won’t bore you with the plot. In fact, I would argue the movie is at least 20 minutes too long because it focuses too much on plot. Look, people, all we need to know is that It’s Autobots vs. Decepticons, with gratuitous amounts of explosions, Megan Fox, and more explosions.
Did I mention explosions?
Fox’s and Shia LeBeouf’s stunt doubles were almost killed in one, and director Michael Bay (seriously) officially entered the Guinness Book of World Records for the grand finale, when the entire Egyptian desert explodes (largest movie explosion ever with actors present.)
Transformers won’t be nominated for the Best Picture Oscar (and Bay would throw up in his mouth if it was), but it will sweep the MTV Movie Awards (if Twilight didn’t exist).
It won’t make you think, and it’s not laced with some kind of preachy message about race relations, the environment, or children starving in Africa. In fact, it doesn’t have any redeeming qualities, except for the pure, raw entertainment that’s jammed down your throat.
It’s 75% blowing things up, 10% amusing one-liners, 10% Shia LeBeouf and Megan Fox holding hands and running, 4% John Turturro show-stealing, and 1% romance.
It’s got more slo-mo shots of a nubile young woman hightailing it across the sand than all eleven seasons of Baywatch combined (and I’ll even include Baywatch Nights and Baywatch: Hawaii in there, too.)
It made my ears ring, my eyes blur, and my palms sweat. It is truly a great movie, because it’s just a movie.
It’s fun. It’s loud. It’s intense.
And it’s worth every penny of the ticket price.