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BANzai Rastafarai wrote:OMG! OMG !! yall saw how bumble bee threw Wicky into the air...transform, deal with a decepticon and transform back into the car and Wicky end back up in the seat?
OMG! OMG! i ran out teh flim place and got robbed!!!!
rossi wrote:Strauss wrote:rossi wrote:Dude....the movie was great..the same ppl who bashing it just have a different taste. They probably enjoy movies like :
Bridget Jones's Diary
Sex and the City 1 and 2
Twilight
The Princess Diaries
Sisterhood of The Traveling Pants
those kinda movies nah......probably
It have a part 2?
according to google...yes
bonzo.specb wrote:BANzai Rastafarai wrote:OMG! OMG !! yall saw how bumble bee threw Wicky into the air...transform, deal with a decepticon and transform back into the car and Wicky end back up in the seat?
OMG! OMG! i ran out teh flim place and got robbed!!!!
BANzai Rastafarai wrote:
tr1ad wrote:just FYI
Green Lantern stuck to the comic storyline
cinco wrote:WHUT
movie was forkin long and boring too much shiddy unnecessary story
2/10 max
how d fork megatron is a muccumflaw truck
graphics and 3d was bess but movie was WORSEEEE
cinco wrote:hydroep wrote:The movie was long, drawn out and disjointed. A very disappointing film...
co signed
~Vēġó~ wrote:is trac who say green lantern was sheit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AllTrac wrote:and i would say it again, green lantern was sheit!!!!~Vēġó~ wrote:is trac who say green lantern was sheit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Is just a movie
By Sheila Rampersad
Story Created: Jul 8, 2011 at 12:50 AM ECT
(Story Updated: Jul 8, 2011 at 12:50 AM ECT )
So Earl, I looked for you last week Wednesday, during the intermission. When I didn't see you, I looked for Errol, then I say Sonnyboy must be there so I look for him. How come none of all you was there, Earl, at Globe cinema last week Wednesday night for the 8.15?
People plan their business months before to be there that night, yes Earl, and they move in clips. From 5 p.m. that workday Wednesday, people — I saying people, eh Earl, but was mostly men, only a handful of women and a couple infants because it wouldn't be Globe if one or two people didn't walk with their infants that hour of the night in that noise — line up to buy tickets. A man buy 33 tickets, and wasn't to scalp, was for him and his clip. I see all of them in house middle section, a pack of men of all ages, some gangster, some grunge, some funky, some professional casual.
Movie starting at 8.15 and tickets bought by half five. By 7 p.m. they inside the cinema, blocking seats for their brethren, the line by the cafeteria winding up the stairs towards balcony and box. You know what that means, Earl? It means an hour and 15 minutes to work themselves into anticipatory paroxysms. And that they did, hooting and howling, throwing popcorn in the air, waving rags, making loud animal noises, calling out to pardners with names like "Oh!"
By the time the blue velvet curtains started to open on that old Globe screen, cheers and screams were above EMA-prescribed decibels; you could have heard them from Pyramid on Charlotte Street. Some previews, each followed by plain boos, cheers or judgements of "Sh---tttt!", and the screen went black for the name "Michael Bay" to come towards us in white letters. Globe's old, musty chairs shook with the roar, like Michael was a friend from long, long time who had returned with salvation and happiness for the dispossessed.
That roar, Earl, continued for 153 minutes. The dialogue, critics says, is incoherent, but I wouldn't know because no one in Globe that weekday Wednesday night heard a word from the screen; we only saw moving pictures. When a patron, obviously unschooled in the ways of Globe, shouted for quiet, the response was swift, spontaneous and choral, "If you want to hear the movie, go to f—king MovieTowne!" The Invaders Bay cineplex, that night in Globe, was a Decepticon, depository for the wrath of the outpriced, a muted and contained experience.
If you want to start a revolution, Earl, you don't need the romance and nostalgia of 1970, you don't need Sonnyboy's drive to be something better and bigger, or Shouters, or pan, or Mammie. You just need one Autobot. If that Autobot is Bumblebee, you could have Tunisia and Egypt combined right there on Green Corner. I know this, Earl, because at the first appearance of the yellow classic Camaro, a young man two rows in front of me leaped to his feet, and started hoarsely shouting out his lungs as if his life and the lives of all those dear to him depended on getting this Autobot to acknowledge him in Globe cinema that weekday Wednesday night - "Bumblebayyyy! Bumblebayyy! Bumblebayyy! Bumblebayyy! Bumblebayyyyyyyyyy!" As the action heightened in the plot — which the critics say has holes but I wouldn't know — this young man pulled off his jersey, exposing jeans dropped low on his buttocks and cotton boxers with elaborate gathers on the broad elastic band, and waved it like in fete featuring Bunji, while bouncing, bouncing and shouting, hoarsely, at the top of his lungs, "Bumblebayyyy! Bumblebayyy! Bumblebayyyyy!"
All this time, Earl, a man sitting behind me was exhaling breath that smelled like dog tootoo. At first whiff I thought someone had stepped in it en route to Globe that Wednesday night, but I realised it came in waves that matched the action on the screen, delayed by the couple seconds it took to waft from the row behind me. Them so does have woman, you know Earl.
At the climax, when Chicago was being reduced to rubble by the Driller Decepticon and Sam and his crew were inside a glass building, heroically fighting off this and that mechanical villain, Carly still in pristine white and high heels, Sam is falling off the building to sure death, Bumblebee ascends from nowhere, scaling that edifice in a few bounds and spectacularly saves his humanoid friend. The smell of dog tootoo invaded, the young shirtless man now in orgasmic delirium, stood on the seat of his chair, bounced and waved, and rhythmically declared, "Bumblebayyy! You the best f—king car! Bumblebayyyyyyyyyy!"
And this action packed sequel was not done yet. Optimus Prime is to face off with Sentinel Prime. Well, Earl, the young man didn't know what to do with himself so he climbed the handles of the seat, a foot on eat handle, and, of course, bellowed, bounced and waved.
By the time it was over, Earl, the male species in Globe that workday Wednesday night was exhausted and sweating. It being Globe, only two exits were open for hundreds to leave. A clean cut youth, jet black hair gelled slick for this important night out, threw himself on the Transformers 3 poster in the lobby, exhaled, "Oh God!" and let his tired body slip halfway to the floor.
One of the group of 33 was asking who coming back with him Thursday night.
Stanley, Errol, Claude, Wilbert, and Ralph were wrong. I with Sonnyboy, Earl. Is not just a movie
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