"Who the heck is Michael Bay?" you ask.

And I answer, "He's the director of Transformers 2". He's also something of a target for ridicule and parody as a result of his obsession with destruction on an epic scale and generally blowing up 90% of the movie set in the course of any scene. When people start referring to you as a stunt-coordinator instead of a director, you know you've gotten carried away with the action element of your films.

If you're a fan dedicated to finding all things Streep, you'll probably have watched Simon and Dyl's wonderful video review of Transformers 2. As author Terry Pratchett would put it, Simon is to Transformers 2 publicity as King Herod was to the Bethlehem Playgroup Association. Go read the story of Jesus' birth if you're scratching your head at this point.

And he is not alone, oh no. The movie review site WorstPreviews had this to say: "Oversexed, underwritten, gun-happy, baffling, and boring as a test pattern, Revenge of the Fallen is little more than an excuse to send robots smashing into each other for an excruciating two-and-a-half hours."

And I loved every minute of it.

My cousin-in-law and I raved about it every time we saw the trailer. We high-fived each other whenever we talked about going to see it. On the glorious opening night, we decided it would be fun to shout "Michael Bay!" every time something exploded. I soon gave up when I realised I would have spent nearly the entire movie shouting the director's name. Two and a half hours of fireballs, deafening sub-octave bass, and huge robots beating the living sprockets out of each other.

I've come to accept that when it comes to movies, I'm easily entertained. Some people talk about releasing the inner child, I think I should work on releasing the inner adult.

Or not.

I kind of enjoy watching people's faces when I tell them how great the film was...