Is Michael Bay able to save himself?

Alright, alright. It's no secret. Everyone knows that I hate Michael Bay and that for months, I have outright refused to see Transformers. But sometimes you have to be lenient and I can barely look at myself in the mirror now that I've thought this, but I might just have to see this one.

I was working today. One of my fellow Geek Squad agents got there before me. He put on Transformers before I got there. I usually hog the CD player so I can listen to Modest Mouse or the Shins or whatever obscure music that everybody except me hates that I want to. But today, Transformers was on before I could get my greasy hands on the A/V deck. So I respected his desire to have the movie playing during working hours.

Like I said before, the one credit I'll pay to Mr. Bay is to say that while he doesn't have storylines in his movies, or plots, or interesting characters, or engaging dialogue, or pertinent themes, or pretty much anything else that makes a movie a film instead of a flick, Michael Bay does have the uncanny ability to capture in every single frame of celluloid an eye-pleasing image.

These aren't particularly expressive images, nothing like you would get in a Coen Brothers movie or a classic film noir, but even after just glancing at the TV every few minutes as I walked from one customer's computer to another's, I was engaged. It pains me to say that, but I was. I will probably rent this movie. If I hate it, expect to see Michael Bay slandered on this blog like never before. If I'd had this blog back when I paid fourteen bucks for my wife and I to go see Spider-Man 3, you'd know the kind of retribution I'm talking about. You don't want me to go there. I don't even want to go there.

So know this, Michael Bay -- Spider-Man 3 was probably the worst movie I saw this summer, but I didn't see Transformers. If Transformers somehow manages to be worse than that heaping pile of eel sushi vomit (and in case you're wondering, yes, I do know what eel sushi vomit looks, smells, and tastes like) then you have created a masterpiece of crap which could rival many an Ed Wood movie. And you will be called deceptive. You will be called a con. Dragging me into a movie with appealing images only to discover the movie blows is evil. I will even invent a new word to call you, which will become synonymous with your name. Maybe... "decepticon." Yes, you will be labeled a Decepticon!

Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourself. The definitive verbal beating of all time may well be on the horizon.