In one way, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is a triumph for producer Michael Bay in that it is equally as godawful as his Transformers: Age of Extinction and a hit nonetheless.
It's essentially a Transformers movie - a Michael Bay production complete with mass destruction, urban panic, white-hot lighting, inane quips, product placement, explosions and, well, Megan Fox.
I had to draw on my own ninja training and reflect intensively on the transitory nature of all phenomena, just to fend off the profound yearning for death.
It's pretty much business as usual: one personality trait per turtle (with the most screen time for party-dude Michelangelo), lots of wisecracks, plenty of thin-crust product placement (Pizza Hut this time around), and even a last-minute cowabunga.
Turtles fans might have been looking for their own Avengers. They get Alvin and the Chipmunks on performance enhancers and mass-market pizza instead. In Hollywood, history repeats first as farce, then as marketing.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles doesn't so much provide brainless enjoyment as it pummels the viewer into submission. "Shell-shocked" is a reasonable description of the experience.
If you thought Michael Bay had forgiven Megan Fox for saying he was "like Hitler," this new April O'Neil role is proof he hasn't.
Instead of a fun and unchallenging limp down memory lane, "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" is an energy-sapping exercise in futility that will leave you begging for less.
For having gone to the trouble of making a self-descriptive movie called Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, its producers seem ultimately unsure about its most basic concept.