LaBoeuf projects a pathetic, wall-eyed dorkhood, when he’s not babbling like a tumor removed from Woody Allen’s prostate that somehow achieved sentience.

This man has ruined two of my most treasured childhood addictions: Indiana Jones and Transformers.  All that is left for is LaBeouf to reprise the roll of Marty McFly and destroy the original design of Doc Brown’s flux capacitor so that time travel will never be possible.  Until then enjoy Roger Ebert’s review of Transformers 2.

If you want to save yourself the ticket price, go into the kitchen, cue up a male choir singing the music of hell, and get a kid to start banging pots and pans together. Then close your eyes and use your imagination.