Fuck Michael Bay.
Dark shadows with deep blue hues. The visual aesthetic is so dramatic, so raw, so urban, so street, so gritty, so unrelenting.
It’s beautiful, but at the same time - it looks like the interior of a mother fucking Russian submarine.
These dark shadows and their deep blue hues are cast upon flaming motorcycles as they jump over the rolling trailers of semi-trucks, that erupt into inexplicably bright explosions as helicopters flail wildly about in a downward descent toward all of the chaos. Large, burly men leap over debris and surf on top of the renegade sparking cars as they’re pushed further and further down the freeway on a tidal wave of fire and chaos. All in dark shadows with deep blue hues.
Welcome to style over substance, indulgence before art, stylistic bastardization if you will. Welcome to the world of Michael Bay, where a camera must pan, dolly, or truck in each and every shot. Where the story to special effect ratio is collectively cluster fucked and the dialog was written with crayons by a retarded fifth grader.
But honestly, prepubescent teenage boys and girls of America - who gives a fuck? Would you rather watch Citizen Kane or have a bad ass Will Smith wielding a chain gun as he makes out with two Russian Lesbians? Not a hard question right? I’m basically asking you if you have a burly, hairy, manchest or the figure of a ten year old boy ballerina.
You decide Sailor.
Honestly, if America’s cinema scene is as inspired and unexplainably great as prepubescents make it out to be - we all are the mentally handicapped, wheel-chair bound fifth graders with the crayons.
But you know, they say don’t if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but if the whole industry is collectively ass-fucked inside out, what is one to do?
Blow it up.
Make a film with even more flaming motorcycles racing on top of a flaming descending plane shooting missiles as ecstasy Drug Lords and Japanese KAMIKAZI Nazi’s (they’re my people mother fuckers! I can do what I want with them.) fly on jet packs pummeling the plane with RPG’s, causing a hulking air marshal to leap out of a hole in the side of a plane followed by an explosion of chaos and inferno as he superman dives with two guns firing at everything in sight while a ton of two legged lesbian vixens of death tumble from the sky WHIST TOTALLY SCISSORING THE SHIT OUT OF EACHOTHER followed by a giant laser beam from a Alcatraz Island, when - suddenly a prop speedboat launches over the plane and, in it’s chaos, drops a payload of anthrax into the atmosphere, followed closely in tow by a spaceship Bruce Willis is driving - AS A ZOMBIE as he launches a barrage of proton torpedo’s causing the entire skyline to explode into dark shadow’s and deep blue hue’s.
It would be at that exact moment in the theater, that teenage boys will dab the cum form their pants and realize how overstimulating movies have become. Or maybe they’ll just cum so hard that they die, or are rendered comatose. Either way, I win.
And then, all of a sudden, Citizen Kane will suddenly seem like a brilliant film again.
Or.
And more than likely, Michael bay will win an Oscar and we, as a society and a collective whole, will continue our downward spiral into wheel-chair bound retardation (that involves crayons).
Filed under: Movies, Pop Culture Ramblings, Season 2