Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen

Let's face it, no one is going to "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" looking for a coherent plot or decent acting.
They want robots, and lots of them, interspersed with a few shots of Megan Fox.
But even by these admittedly low standards, director Michael Bay's sequel is still a headache inducing debacle.

It's bigger, It's louder, and it's a whole lot dumber.
And after the first dozen transformers do their thing, it's hard to work up much enthusiasm.

When he's not staging incomprehensible battle scenes where its impossible to know exactly who's turning who into a bucket of bolts, he's gazing longingly at Megan Fox's pouty lips and tight clothing. And every now and then Bay stops to display a shockingly tin ear for comedy.
Bay's hyperactive camera movements make even Tony Scott's camera work look somewhat restrained by comparison.

The experience is a bit like being stuck next to a jackhammer for two and a half hours with no respite from the blaring assault on your senses up there on the screen.

"Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen" D+