The Subtextual Narrative of Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon

It boils down to this:  "Fuck you.  I'm Michael Bay."

And it's not subtextual so much as it is blatantly obvious, as described by the director himself in this interview at noted mental health periodical, The Last Psychiatrist. 

Questioned about his seemingly rash decision to fire Megan Fox in the third installment of a wildly successful franchise, while replacing her with an unknown lingerie model, he replies:

MICHAEL BAY:  You don't know anything about movies, do you? You probably believe it when actors say they do their own stunts or hate it when the paparazzi surprises them at the agreed upon time and place. Replaced Megan? I could have replaced every single one of those actors and actresses with some other supermodels, and the movie would have been better. Fuck that, I don't even need people, I could have Simoned the whole thing. I did them a favor, they need me, and when you start forgetting that you're just a motion capture device for better breast renderings, I kink your feeding tube. Good luck on your audition at Lifetime.

Fuck you, he's Michael Bay.

Titty-titty, strutty-strutty, plus some shit on fire.  That's what you'll get, because that's what you deserve.  Misogynistic?  Bitch, please.  If you're looking for someone to blame for Michael Bay's movies, you can blame women, themselves.

MICHAEL BAY:  You don't need big name actresses anymore, you just need some mo to say "three generations of women" or a montage scene of four divorcees holding wine glasses and dancing in a kitchen of Final Cut Pro vegetables. You're blaming me for the stupidity of movies? Blame women.

Your argument that women are responsible for bad movies seems untenable. With respect, your movies aren't even aimed at women.

MICHAEL BAY:  Hey, fuckly, listen to me, my movies exist because of women, because they've driven men batshit crazy into 'man caves' and Call Of Duty XI. Did they have giant robot movies in the 1930s and 40s? No, all of those movies had dance numbers. Back when a guy could punch a dame for overcooking a chicken there was no shame in watching some fool tap dance his way through WWII. Now these bitches expect you to change a diaper and shave your balls? Fuck that. Giant robots.

Is all modern cinema then reflexively phallocentric? Does disposable art created on a background of consumerist capitalism necessitate a misogynist subtext?

          MICHAEL BAY:  I said fuck that. Giant robots.

There's much more at the link, wherein Michael Bay waxes philosophical about the emasculization of men in modern cinema, and defends his practice of reusing scenes from his earlier movies, stealing from Christopher Nolan, and fucking your girlfriend.

Easily one of the funniest things you'll read on the internet this year.  Check it out.