I was right. Critics can't see past their own snobbery.
They see "Michael Bay" and start pissing blood. On this one, they're all full of shit. Here's how pathetic their kind can really be:
With "Transformers," the third time is apparently the charm.
Not that there's much that's actually charming about "Transformers: Dark of the Moon." It is the same sort of deafening mayhem celebration as its two absolutely awful predecessors.
Except this time it works. Or at least it isn't fully repugnant. OK, I'll admit it — this is hard — the big silly thing is sort of great.
An admission like that can end a critical career, the first two "Transformers" movies being among the most loathsome films of the past decade, but it must be made.
This fuck is so worried that someone might think him less discerning for actually liking a loud, fun, screen chewing, robot brawling, visually bad ass movie that he has to couch it in negatives.
Most weren't able to leave their haughtiness at the door.
Here's a sample:
Despite having the finest technical talent at his disposal, Bay just flails around like a kid in a 3D candy store watching bots morph into cars and back again and battle each other like dueling refrigerators. Bay believes that you can indeed kick a dead horse forever and the profits his bot epics rake in prove him right. He's laughing (at us) all the way to the bank.
Of course this comes from the same kind of fucks who thought "The Reader" was great cinema and that "Inception and "Kings Speech" are masterpieces.
Apparently when you become a movie critic, you are issued a stick to shove up your ass.
Irony? Maybe. But I like what I like and don't rape or love stuff because other people do or because I want to appear more erudite.
Fuck the critics. Go see Transformers.
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