Wild Horses Cannot Drag Me Away From Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

Robo-testicles?

Check.

Wonky-eyed, racist caricature-bots?

Check and double-check.

Megan Fox giving lessons on how to dress appropriately for work?

megan fox infinity

Then there are the reviews, which confirm what I’ve long suspected.  Ladies and gentleman, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, which is at long last in theaters, seems like it’s going to be one seriously ferocious train wreck, no CGI necessary.

I may no longer be a teenager, and I certainly never was a straight man, so the reality of the situation is that I’m definitely not this movie’s target audience.  There will be no Shia LaBeouf in hot pants slouched over a motorcycle, and there are no reports of a gay robot that wishes all the Transformers could stop fighting and start striking a pose.  Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen will be loud and stupid and completely devoid of any positive social value, but it will at least be one thing other thing, and that thing will be over-the-top camp.  

“But wait,” you ask, “isn’t camp bedazzled, transparent badness capable of launching gays into giggle fits?”  Indubitably, my dears, but hear me out.  

Good camp can take many shapes, but it’s never not a hyperbolic challenge to subtlety and restraint.  Camp tends to happens when the bad-idea pants are a little too tight or you’ve had one too many shots of 150-proof ridicu-rum on an empty stomach, and all signs point to the fact that Michael Bay prefers his shots to be doubles and his pantalons 3-sizes too small.  Admittedly, the shots are being done out of a strippers cleavage and the pants have been custom made by Ed Hardy, but that doesn’t make it any less camp an experience.  

 Paul Verhoeven, when faced with outdoing the trash and glitz of Las Vegas, gave us Showgirls.  Michael Bay, when faced with outdoing the tacky and proudly stupid sensory assault that is Transformers, has given us Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.  Yes, the glamour and class of  Elizabeth Berkley in Versace has been replaced by the cheap titillation of Megan Fox in a tank top, but isn’t it all ultimately just an attempt to reach new heights of over-the-top ridiculousness? 

I’m hardly suggesting that Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen will touch the glorious camp brilliance Showgirls, nor would I utter the blasphemy that Megan Fox could dare offer a performance as nuanced and sublime as Elizabeth Berkley.  That said, Michael Bay seems to be unintentionally awful with some serious panache.  It may not be intended to be his great MGM musical, but Bay’s Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen sounds like the biggest piece of big-budget, high-glossed bullshit to hit the theaters in ages.

And I think we can all that that’s awesome.

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