Transformers: Kaatudeiden kosto

100% concentrate of one artist. From another director, I would love it, but this Bay… and I can only take him dissolved. Everything bangs, everyone is gorgeous, everyone is American… and then the humour, the humour!!! Horny dogs, a stoned mum, moron robot twins… Two stars for the special effects, otherwise it’s rubbish. (15.08.2011)

Michael Bay has transformed himself into his own genre, where he has made his own rules that physics, logic, and even Spielberg himself cannot affect. On the other hand, no one else has such perfectly stitched visuals with slow-motion shots of the characters' hellishly serious faces, military formations, and the setting sun with heroic music blaring. It’s off the rails, without a drop of judgment and a sense of calm. And with the overblown runtime, it hits the viewer with the vigor of a little cheeky brat whose rich parents bought him a lot of toys from Hasbro and he doesn't know what to do with them out of mischief. So there are explosions everywhere and in between all this we have Shia and Megan, who just happen to look good again. I admit that I have probably never felt so awkward after leaving the movie theater for having actually liked this. But I don't want to see it a second time, not without the assistance of the big screen. PS: Even after a second viewing, it's still surprisingly entertaining. In a perversely demented way, but it's fun. :) (23.06.2009)

Bay likes to escalate. This means that the second film is bigger, more explosive, more infantile, stupider, more lobotomized... maybe a little funnier. Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman used most of their intelligent ideas in the Star Trek prequel script, so in this Hasbro mishmash they have no choice but to dilute the really demented plot with decent gags and self-parodying one-liners. Which is nice - otherwise Revenge of the Tinsmiths would seem really unbearable to me. Even so, watching two and a half hours of destruction, confusing action and rushing concrete mixers is a solid impact on the nervous system. Especially because, compared to the first film, it's no longer ballbusting - it's hackneyed. The moment of surprise is there, so we get Emmerich's recipe "if you don't know what to do, blow up as much of the world's ropes as possible". At the end, the divine Michael Bay prepared his much-loved pathos in a raw state for me, for which I thank him and send him a tin kiss. I know that Michael Bay lovers will be drooling with happiness, but for a viewer, who, in addition to a ton of steel armor, also likes a little bit of thought put into things, this year's blockbuster is Star Trek. And that won’t change no matter what Michael Bay does. (19.06.2009)

Naked robot genitals across the screen. Robot Jar Jar Binks in duplicate. Optimus "Conan" Prime. Devastators remake of the scene with Legolas on the Oliphaunt. “Mythology". A fire farting and leg rogering little robot. A huge, rusk robot with a walking stick who (for a change) farts out a parachute. A camp pug. A cowardly Megatron. Silicon heaven not included. Bay simply let rip. What else do you expect. Unlike the second Bad Boys, he let rip in the wrong direction. Seriously infantile. Michael, I want those politically incorrect brothers back, not prattling midgets... um, midgibots! (24.06.2009)

Michael Bay’s lack of taste and sense of proportion in the magical, polished world of the first Transformers?! Transformers has undergone a similar shift as Bad Boys. Spielberg's touch has disappeared and Bay has gone rogue. The first instalment was great thanks to several pleasant, well-proportioned aspects – the visual celebration of Megan Fox’s beauty, the sparks between her and the shy Shia LaBeouf, getting to know the cool robots, with each of them having their place in the script and rousing astonishment and fondness. The film didn’t hurry, but rather took time to relish every scene and its only weak spot was the chaotic action climax. In the second film, Megan and Shia merely evade explosions (in similarly chaotic action scenes) and the humor relies on scenes like the one in which a little robot humps Megan’s boot like a dog (!). The robots’ potential is wasted here, especially in terms of their individuality, and some are even annoying (the “couples” accompanying the main characters). And when you finally see a truly impressive robot, it’s immediately made ridiculous by his “funny” huge steel testicles from underneath which John Turturro radio-calls the Marine Corps (!!). This is simply not a direction I wanted Transformers to take. And that’s not even to mention the weak script, barely holding together the continuous action orgies, which just don’t satisfy after two hours. Michael, you obviously have no idea why the first film was such a nice surprise. (19.06.2009)