Monday, June 29, 2009

It's either this or a Michael Jackson tribute post

If I remember my Biological Psychology lectures right, all people are born with the mechanisms of a woman. All men are descendants of women, technically, because their parts just differentiate into man parts depending on the chemistry of the person's conception.

So when my friends invited me to watch this uberly testosterony movie about robots, my manly chemistry shouted, more of grunted, "Hell yeah!" without hesitation.

Bad move, manly bits. Bad move.


Having heard reports of how the queue to theaters showing this movie can become unbelievably ridiculous, my friend Z and I were already in Rockwell at 9:30 AM and were third in line to get tickets. Yup, THIRD. After scoring tickets for the second screening at 2:30 PM (we weren't too happy with the free seating for the first shows, and we were waiting for two more of our friends), we went around and appeased our female side, and shopped around.

But since you weren't here to know about our purchases, then let's get on with what I think about the Robot Movie (I don't think you're here for that either, but what the hell).

In Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, the Autobots are still on earth fighting side-by-side with what seems like the U.S. Army (see, if I am a guy, I'd know) made up of cute guys. There have been isolated cases of Decepticon attacks all over the world, and the Autobots and the U.S. Army are in cahoots to find out what's up.

In a pumpkin field nearby, Sam Witwicky is college bound, leaving his weepy parents whom you don't remember having a lot of personality in the first movie, and his now hot girlfriend who, for her gratuitous booty shot, straddles motorbikes just so she can reach that hard to get spot on the gas tank, I-have-one-expression-for-fear-sadness-anger-and-slutty Mikaela.

Sam comes in the Grand Scheme of Things as the one to help convince The President, whom we all know is OBAMA, to not evict the Autobots from earth, seeing that their enemies are all out with their vendetta to destroy the Autobots and destroy us in the process. "Go do your business elsewhere, robots," Obama said.

One really should expect anything cranial from this movie. It's a popcorn movie, that's it. No need to bring your brain or your film critic hat on this one because it's just about two full hours of brain lethargy. Robots fighting robots, humans littered all over the place while trying to fight robots, Megan Fox and her unbelievably magical white pants that doesn't get dirty no matter how much she rolls around in the dessert.

The movie tries to pose an inner struggle for the Hero of whether to fulfill your destiny, and include your two best friends Hermoine and Ron on a journey of self-discovery, OR suffer your fate alone, die, and leave the Earth in bits and pieces. You know, much like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings.

Visually, one cannot complain. It delivers what it is expected to deliver. But when you've seen one robot movie, you've seen them all. I have to agree that a team walking in slow motion to suggest hard ass kicking, you die and you see Jesus robots, and then live again after doing so, have been done one too many times already that this movie really has nothing new to offer. And seriously, Linkin Park? You'd go with that for scoring?

For the fans, maybe. But not for me and my manly chemistry.

After the movie, I went out of the theater and bought myself a bag.

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