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His movies have become inseparable from this kind of careless, speedy display, and the chief completely inclines toward the outlandish idea of his specialty: His cameras, 사설토토 mounted on robots, vehicles, or nothing by any means, shaking with energy, dip, turn, and essentially circle de-circles (at least a time or two, the camera shoots up the front of a structure, just to plunge down once more, similar to a ride on Kingda Ka); his alter focuses are quick, frequently foggy, and from such countless points immediately your cerebrum couldn't follow the through lines. All of this is intended to flood your faculties enough that you don't see how little there is of even the barest grains of substance to help any of the visual fireworks constantly emitting off the screen.

It's a young child's origination of coherency - - something I could have arranged while playing with my G.I. Joes when I was 6 - - that whooshes past as though you were remaining between paths on a busy time interstate. For brief minutes, an especially nervy breadth, zoom, or following shot may be capturing, yet as a 136-minute uber creation, it rapidly becomes rebuffing, beating you into accommodation with its unduly mad pacing. That Bay endeavors passionate circular segment terminations by the end - - the siblings accommodate their disparities, without a doubt; Cam figures out how to think often about her patients - - is the last affront. It resembles getting a stock hello card from an even companion trouble to sign it.

It isn't so much that there's anything inherently amiss with display - - that has been film's reason for living card since its beginning - - however Bay's sugar-discombobulated, spent form of it is bunk. A bamboozlement endeavoring to delude you from seeing that there's hands down the laziest of structures underneath it, a child too apathetic to even consider getting his work done, so he folds a lot of papers together and packs them into a truly sweet looking pocket organizer. He's trusting you won't see the actual pages are