So we're back for more bot on bot action, and it's really a case of bigger, better, faster, bore as any remnants of the first film's wit or charm are, very literally, missing in action. Poor Michael Bay still cuts films for audiences with the attention spans of cuttlefish, and then, bizarrely, turns in a Tolkien-esque two-and-a-half-plus running time, by which time I was ready to go and empty and re-load the dishwasher just to give me something to do. Bay calls his hyper-frenetic, ADHD-style of film-making 'fucking the frame' - his own words - and there's an unsavoury truth in his choice of words; his modus operandi is primal, aggressive and loveless. Everything is over-edited, over-scored, over-scripted and over-acted. As the reviewers at the time of release said, when your leading lady makes Megan Fox look like Meryl Street, something's gone very wrong. The visual effects are natty, but then I'm a boy and so genetically hard-wired to enjoy watching robots beat the motherboards out of each other. Worldwide the film has made one billion, one hundred and seventeen million, nine hundred and sixty-six thousand, six hundred and fifty dollars to date and ranks the fifth most successful box office hit ever; we live in tragic times indeed.