Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen Overview

I'll strap myself to a polygraph if you believe I'm lying. Not much more than ten minutes following the closing credits of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen ran, I was sucking back again a McDonald's Large Mac.

It was an apt act of parallel usage. The Huge Mac exploded enjoyment sensors all through my central nervous method as I loaded up on sodium and grease. As quickly as I was carried out I was nauseous and stuffed with shame.

The essential reality is this: if you have a great sense of humor, smuggle in a flask of whiskey and can retain your voice down very low ample so as not to disturb other guests whilst zinging, you will have a terrific evening out at the movies.

Think of this movie as like the very first 1 multiplied by ten. Every little thing that was excellent about Transformers is superior here (you can in fact see most of the fighting!) and almost everything that was lousy (the utter, relentless stupidity of its story) is worse.
Michael Bay's cinema has the subtlety of repeated smacks dead in the encounter with a spiked iron cricket bat. If God forbid there is no explosion in the shot, there is T&A. If there is no T&A, there is absurd technobabble. If there is no technobabble, there is lewd race-centered humor. Though the script is a complete mess, the film does adhere to an intelligent layout. There is no Hollywood director who knows how to consider a finances bigger than the GDP of most nations and turn it into furious, testosterone-driven scorched-earth piece ofstupidity.

I'd summarize the plot if I could. It has a thing to do with a "cube shard" leftover from the props department of the very first film. The day just before leaving for Princeton (a even bigger celebration college than Arizona State, you'll understand) younger Shia LaBeouf discovers it in the hoodie from the final film's climax. ("It nevertheless has the bloodstains!" will shut up any nit-picker who wonders why the shard didn't arrive loose in the washing machine.) Anyway, the shard imprints a map in Sam's head, which you'd assume would lead him to treasure or one thing, but as much as I can inform all it leads him to do is shout the brilliant line from the trailer "Megatron would like what's in my head!"

If that's what Megatron wishes, bad Megan Fox, blazing with some killer lip gloss and brilliant white pants, just needs commitment. Will they have to conserve the entire world once again to strengthen the bonds in between them?
There is considerably absurd backstory and crammed-in explanation for what is going on and despite considerably of it becoming voiced by the thunderous Peter Cullen (definitely the best non-James Earl Jones voice operating currently) it nonetheless will get frustrating. Even John Turturro, standing up for the audience, demands some uncomplicated specifics throughout a single of these exposition breakdowns. And however, despite all this, I however have no thought what Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is about. I feel Cybertron is even now out of Energon, if that assists. Guaranteed, I could invest power and try out and get the plot straight in my head (or get upset that they drive from Jersey to New York through the Ben Franklin Bridge - which is in Philly), or I could also just watch the fireballs and the bosoms. This time, I select the latter.

By the finish of the picture, when I had witnessed Devestator's wrecking ball testes and heard a RoboGod declaim "Merge the Matrix with his Spark! It is, and generally has been, Your Destiny!" I was exhausted. My ears damage, my eyes damage and my stomach ached from laughter.