FILMPHLEGM™: Transformers Sucks So Much I Don't Even Want To Bother Coming Up With A Joke Headline, That's How Little I Care About It

There will come a day when Michael Bay makes a film that consists entirely of footage of his own CG-enhanced, Nike® logo tatoo-sporting penis surrounded by explosions that are anthropomorphically animated to spout off taglines from other movies like "Go ahead, make my day!" Oh, and there will be some HOTT® women in there somewhere, at least one of which will be Australian for no good reason.

Fortunately he hasn't been allowed to make that movie yet, but he came goddam close with Transformers, which is utterly bereft of cohesive plot and basic character development (unless you count "getting laid" as an example of Joseph Campbell's theory of the hero's journey).

A movie so busy looking up its own ass for greatness, Transformers can't be bothered to get even the slightest details right: Why are Witwicky's great-grandfather's glasses about ten feet tall when Optimus Prime picks them up? Why is Witwicky pimping his great-grandfather's wares to pay for his car immediately before turning to his teacher and telling him he already has the two thousand dollars he needs to purchase a car? Why would a teenager in the year 2007 have a poster for washed-up former alterna-rock darlings Garbage on their bedroom wall? Why does a boy who chooses to assume the eBay username "ladiesman217" not comb his fucking hair before taking his profile picture? How do the other Transformers see Bumblebee's "batsignal" from space when it's shining on the bottom of a thick patch of clouds? And where the hell are those other Transformers coming from, anyway?

All I know is, I feel like buying an album by The Strokes right now for some reason.