An Open Letter to Michael Bay
Dear Michael Bay,
As you most likely have heard, I previously asked you to “please stop shitting on my childhood” and struck you down with three hadoukens. Well, having now seen your film, Transformers, allow me to apologize for accusing you of shitting on my childhood. I also not only redact the three hadoukens I gave you, but let me present you with the distinct and unique honor of being given, by me, a lifetime exclusion from hadoukens. Yes, that’s right, you can never receive a hadouken from me for as long as you live. If you wanted to your next film could be titled “Nima Sucks the Balls” — which would consist of me sucking on a pair of CGI balls in slow motion while the camera rotated around me for two hours — without fear of hadoukens.
The only way to describe your film, Transformers, is to say “Holy Shit!” And I mean that quite literally. It’s as if God himself pooped in my hand. I don’t know what that means, but the movie fucking rocks. If I ever see you in person, Michael Bay, I will buy you no less than two beers, be they domestic or imported.
In conclusion, even though none of the Transformers look the way they’re supposed to, and the story really doesn’t make any sense, and there are too many useless human characters (Anthony Anderson, for example), and the film runs a bit long, and there are no Stan Bush sung power ballads, and Vince Dicola didn’t do the score, and the fight scenes with the robots were cut too hectically, I still loved this movie and will absolutely see it again in the theaters and then subsequently buy it on DVD.
Con mucho gusto,
Nima Yousefi
Dude with blog
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