Not being a fan of the first Transformers movie (likely due to my impossibly high expectations), I expected more of the same from the second one. I read every negative review, I followed every racism story and I hung on every testicle reaction, and through all of this, I managed to lower my expectations to a level that I had until now thought impossible. Then I actually saw Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. And, having accepted that the plot would make no sense, and that most of the robots would not be given personalities, and that I was going to have to spend a lot of time at college with Shia LaBeouf, I actually found myself kinda enjoying it. Transformers movie defenders have always told me "you have to turn your brain off," but the closest I managed to get was to give my brain a set of pre-existing conditions -- in this case, that Transformers movies are usually horrible. With this in mind, I was able to sit back and relax, and I can now objectively tell you the ten things that made Transformers: ROTFL better than its predecessor. Warning, spoilers abound!

When you go to the Fandango page for Jack Black and Michael Cera's Year One there's a small box where they list "Similar Movies You Might Like." Now, this box assumes that you like the movie whose page you're on. Considering that most people who go to Fandango haven't even seen the movie they're looking up yet, it's a strange feature. In this context, they're more like recommendations for movies you should stay home and watch instead of the movie you're about to buy tickets for. Dear God, how I wish I'd taken that little box's advice.

In the movie The Perfect Storm, two weather patterns merge with a hurricane to form a George Clooney-killing whirlwind of death. I wouldn't say that Away We Go was my perfect storm, but a bunch of me-friendly elements collide in this film, and let's just say there was some light flooding in my pants.

As a TV comedy fan, I have a huge man-crush on The Office's John Krasinski, and have been waiting for him to appear in a movie that did not make me want to hang myself. (Leatherheads was okay, but License to Wed is a license to kill anyone whose name appears on the poster.) Similarly, I miss Maya Rudolph from SNL something awful, and have been looking forward to her film follow-up to Idiocracy. I'll admit to being slightly biased towards these two, but the pair of them teaming up in this movie makes me think the Make-A-Wish Foundation got my letters and bought the whole "I've-got-lupus" story.

I was lucky enough to see The Hangover the other night, and while sometimes getting to see screenings in advance feels a lot like work, this one was actually a pleasure. It was quite the welcome change of pace after my recent outings included Terminator: Salvation, Fighting and Ghosts of Girlfriends Past.

When did it get cool to not like Will Ferrell? It seems like a growing number of people (including a few inside the TWoP offices) have had enough of him. Now, I'm not saying all of his movies have been great -- I still have not met anyone who saw Semi-Pro -- but a lot of them make me laugh just thinking about them. The mental image of Ferrell running around thinking he's on fire in Talladega Nights, putting his scrotum on the drum kit in Step-Brothers, or screaming in a phone booth in Anchorman is enough to make me at least chuckle. Maybe that makes me some sort of dimwit. I don't know. But I certainly don't think I'm a "Ferrell follower," or part of some Ferrell-worshipping cult. I just like things that are funny.

I feel I should start out this review with a little PSA: If you scare easily, do not allow your vindictive gorehound friends to sweet-talk you into going to this movie. It ain't frickin' Gothika. It's a horror film made for horror fans by somebody who knows what he's doing. It will scare the living shit out of you if you're not properly desensitized to this type of thing. And for the rest of us? It's still effectively scary! I jumped in my seat, I laughed a lot, I thought I might vomit a few times -- to sum it up, I had a fantastic time. This is the measure of a successful horror film, friends.

The backstory of the Terminator film franchise is filled with enough time-jumps to drown a McFly and will not be recapped here, but the quality of its installments can be summarized by each film's robot antagonist. The classic, relentless T-800 hunted Sarah Connor in the enduring original Terminator. The cold, shiny T-1000 shape-shifted through the sleek and stylish Judgment Day. And the cleavage-enhanced, mixed-bag hybrid T-X did whatever she did in the muddled mess that was Rise of the Machines. So what does it say that the primary robot foes in the newest installment, Terminator: Salvation, are shuffling, outdated T-600s that are constantly shooting at things and wear shreds of clothing and skin in a failed attempt to look human? Probably nothing good.

Warning: This review contains spoilers.

I think I've figured out J.J. Abrams' recipe for a successful Star Trek reboot:

1 Kirk
2 Spocks
12 facial tattoos
1 Simon Pegg
1 McCoy impersonator
3 black holes
1 Cloverfield monster
1 green woman in her underwear

Stir vigorously for 126 minutes.

Comedian Dom DeLuise died on Monday, and the listing of the movie roles has begun. Most obituaries will mention his long partnership with Mel Brooks: as a lead bumbler in Silent Movie, the megaphone-toting director cameo in Blazing Saddles, the gluttonous Emperor in History of the World Part 1. More will play up his long friendship with Burt Reynolds: Cannonball Run 1 & 2, Smokey & the Bandit 2, All Dogs Go to Heaven -- you know, the greats. But I will bet you dollars to donuts (a bet DeLuise made often, and lost) that few, if any, will mention Haunted Honeymoon. Probably because it seems to turn up on a couple of "worst movies of all time" lists, but it's the one I know him best from, and it's one of my favorite films of all time. Despite a brilliant performance by DeLuise and a slew of genuinely funny moments from him, Gene Wilder and Gilda Radner, it doesn't seem to get much respect. My ringing endorsement isn't going to change that, but here goes nothing.

I'm not really sure why movie critics complain about superhero movies being loud and stupid. I am an avowed lover of comic books -- superhero books in particular -- and I will be the first to admit that superhero comics are mostly pretty stupid. Even the really smart ones (Watchmen, Sandman) are based on stupid principles, i.e., that people who can fly, pop claws, shoot laser beams, etc. will put on tights and fight crime. So why do critics -- particularly the ones I've heard called "comic book tourists" -- continue to look for depth, meaning and artistry? Were they spoiled by last year's summer of high-quality superhero flicks, and they want Wolverine to shoulder the full responsibility this year, since it's the only superhero movie coming out? Talk about putting all of your eggs in one basket.