How to Incite a Riot; Or, What Happened to Me When I Went to See Transformers

I warned the usher at the movie theater, "This is going in my blog!"

Let me explain: It's Saturday, my wife is out of town, a buddy calls and says he wants to hang out. I think, "Hey, let's get nerdy and go see Transformers." Hell, my parents gave Hasbro a lot of hard-earned cash twenty years ago (those toys were expensive!)

So we get to the theater thirty minutes early, as is my neurotic requirement when going to the movies. We get nice seats. Sodas, candy, etc. It's a typical summertime movie-going experience. Lots of kids, none of which were even alive when the Transformers debuted. The seats filled. The trailers rolled (love the trailers). And the movie began...

As you know, Michael Bay directed this movie. And if you've ever seen a Michael Bay movie, you know that his movies are the kind you hear through your ass. Loud, baby, loud. My IQ fell several points every time an explosion ripped across the screen and I yelled WOOOOOO!!! with the rest of the crowd.

The movie is good. Well, at least the part that I saw. Um, yeah, at about the half-way point, everything went black. Gone. Silent. The movie stopped in mid-scene. A loud, action-packed scene, too. And for added effect, I think someone turned off the a/c because I started sweating. Then the crowd started murmuring. Then they started yelling. People were getting up from their seats. Grown men were shouting directives up to the little window, "You better rewind it!!" The lights came up. Everyone groaned. Kids were running through the aisles. People started running out of the theater. Faces turned ugly and angry. Twenty minutes went by. People shuffled out of the theater looking defeated. I stayed in my seat. And for the record, I was one of the last to give up hope.

We left the theater to find a huge line of restless, pissed off people demanding refunds and vouchers and written apologies. Some poor schlep in a suit was on the verge of tears. I could tell he had heard a plethora of negativity. Considering Transformers isn't quite an art house film, I'm sure the crowd had a very limited vocabulary on their way out of the building. I took pity on the man in the suit and only gave him my look of disappointment (if anyone wants to see my look of disappointment, I can email you a pic).

You want to know why the movie stopped and never started again? Well, when I received my voucher from the frazzled man in the suit, I asked what happened. He said















So, anyone want to go see Transformers? I'll buy the popcorn if you bring the pepper spray.