Suppose someone that you though of as a friend slapped you upside the head, for no apparent reason, every time they saw you.
It’s less an issue of pain–it was never enough to cause physical harm–than one of blatant disrespect. Eventually you’ll come to the point that you have two options: Either resign yourself to this daily assault on your person or attempt to take control over what has become a pretty untenable situation.
That’s how I feel about the Transformers movies. Time after time I’m being hit upside the head by barely-there characterization, nonsensical plots and sexism.
To be honest, I’ve given up on the franchise every since Transformers: Dark of the Moon, where it became apparent that director Michael Bay accepted that logic and a half-decent plot were secondary to butt-loads of CGI tomfuckery.
But I don’t blame Bay (not entirely, anyway). Reason being, do you blame the drug addict when his so-called friends–knowing full well he has a problem–decide to party with him anyway?
No I blame ‘us,’ by which I mean everyone who keeps paying to see these damn movies in theaters.
If the producers for a moment thought that they would start losing money, they’d change it up in a heartbeat.
But that’s the problem: They know that they can turn out as much Transformers crap as they want, people–seemingly the bulk on them in China, so there’s that–will continue to pay to see it.
So how can I blame Michael Bay for making bad movies when really bad movies are apparently what we think we deserve?