To paraphrase The Tossers riffing on Forrest Gump, life is like a box of stale chocolates. You never know exactly what kind of shite you'll get. But there will be shite. Oh yes, there will be shite. Witness the rancid, splooge-filled bonbon that is Transformers: Age of Extinction.
As I sat down and tried to prepare for the eye rape to come, all I could think was, "Well, it'll probably be better than getting circumcised by Michael J. Fox." And damn if it wasn't . . . just barely. Of course, that's one low fucking bar.
With his fourth Transformers movie in seven years, Michael "Somebody Bet On The" Bay proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is no god. Because if there were, whether with infinite mercy or great vengeance and furious anger, he/she/it would undoubtedly destroy the universe rather than allow it to be subjected to this particular example of shitassery.
Bay seems to have decided to steer with the skid with Age of Extinction because it supersizes every vomit-inducing element of his trademark style. Utterly incoherent plot? Check. Velveeta cheesy soundtrack? Check. American flags flapping everywhere? Check. Random explosions every few seconds? Check. Casting then camera-fucking some young piece of tail? Check. Racially offensive Transformers? Check and Mandingo-mate.
Then, Bay cuts it all together with the worst example of ADHD editing ever committed to film (fine nerds, digital video). You'd need to sprinkle your popcorn with Ritalin or shoot an eight ball of coke directly into your brain to have any hope of following the chaos on screen. Seriously, a retarded marmoset could have created a more intelligible final product.
In the slightest nod to a storyline, after Boston-accented alleged Texan, Cade Yeager ("Marky" Mark Wahlberg), and his daughter, Tessa (Nicola "Third Rate Megan Fox Fill-In" Peltz), reactivate Optimus Prime they all dash off in search of a doomsday device known as "the seed." The bad guys, led by Galvatron (I.E. Megatron 2.0), also feel the need for seed, which results in Galvatron unironically shouting things like, "Rise up! Go find my seed!" and, "I must not spill my seed!" and my personal favorite, "Ha! I sprayed my seed all over your face!"
Transformers: Age of Extinction does manage one stomach-churning moment of originality. The 20-year-old Irish race car driver - natch - dating Peltz's 17-year-old high schooler keeps a laminated copy of the relevant statutory rape law in his wallet . . . and nobody finds it remotely creepy. With Michael Bay at the helm, I'm betting this is a clear case of art imitating life.
Fuck Hasbro, fuck Bay, fuck the four less-than-meets-the-eye Transformers movies so far and preemptively fuck the inevitable fifth one that, like a soon-to-be lesbian still chasing cock, is yet to come.
October 5, 2014 (Video release review rather than theatrical release review. Because your mom loves it like that.)