Cat Tent

I went the injectable route at the advice of a friend; and I always wanted to share my knowledge on this subject with others. Talk about perfect timing, too - it’s injection day!

Disclaimer: there’s a lot of room for variation in terms of what’s injected, how it’s injected, etc.; be sure to ask for and follow the instructions of your provider.

Medications

I inject 1ml of 5mg/ml Estradiol Cypionate (brand name: “Depo-Estradiol”), every two weeks; and 1ml of 150mg/ml Medroxy-Progesterone Acetate (brand name: “Depo-Provera”) every ninety days.

Keep a diary of your injections; and in particular the manufacturer, lot, expiration, and serial number of every medication (all of which will be clearly printed on the packaging). This information can be helpful when identifying issues.

Vials

Both medications come in little glass vials. There’s a sterile plastic cap on top (which you break off); and underneath, a rubber seal designed to prevent air from entering the vial.

The Progesterone comes in a single-use vial, containing just one dose; you dispose of the vial afterwards. The Estradiol comes in a multi-use vial, containing five doses; you keep the vial for next time.

Note: there is a risk that multi-use vials can become contaminated with bacteria. Be sure to follow the injection process carefully; maintain sterility; and store your medication in an appropriate location and at the correct temperature, per the instructions.

In medical settings, multi-use vials are good for 30 days after opening; at which point they are disposed of. In my case, I’m keeping the vial for 52 days. I wouldn’t recommend pushing too far past that, as the longer the vial is in use, the higher the risk of contamination.

Injectable supplies

Each injection requires the following:

A syringe,

A large needle (mine are 18g, 1.5′ long, and pink),

A small needle (likewise, 25g, 1′ long, and light blue),

Two alcohol pads,

A Band-Aid (mine has llamas on it)!

Normally you’ll be proscribed a syringe with one of the needles already attached; and the other needle by itself. Alcohol pads and Band-Aids can be purchased from your local pharmacy.

Needles

During the injection process, you will need to switch the needle attached to the syringe. The syringes I use feature a “Luer-Lock” connection, which means they screw on and off.

Each needle comes with a protective plastic cap; you always want the cap on the needle when attaching or removing it from the syringe. (Safety aside, the needles are intentionally designed to make them difficult to add or remove without the cap attached.)

There’s a reason there are two needles: when you need to suck fluid into the syringe, it’s very difficult if the needle is too small. (This is why blood draw needles tend to be on the bigger side.) When you need to squirt fluid out of the needle, however, the size doesn’t matter as much. (Plus: smaller needles cause less discomfort when poking people!)

So the big needle is going to be what you use to draw your medication; and the small needle is what you use to inject it. (When I started my regimen, I asked my provider if a nurse could show me what to do. I wasn’t aware at the time that there were different needles involved; so when I saw the big needle, I was terrified!)

Drawing the medication

First things first: wash your hands! (At every step, you want to prevent the possibility of germs getting into your supplies or worse, into you!)

Take your vial, remove and discard the plastic cap, and clean the surface of the rubber seal with an alcohol pad. (This prevents contaminants from being carried into the vial.)

Next, you attach the large needle to the syringe, and withdraw the plunger so that it contains the same amount of air as the medication you wish to withdraw. (In my case, 1ml.) The plunger will have a rubber seal that meets the inside of the syringe surface; the top of the seal is what you will be measuring against.

Hold the vial level, and with the syringe pointing down, insert the needle through the rubber seal of the vial. Now, carefully turn everything upside down: you should have the syringe pointing up, and the vial pointing down (with the medication pooling around the seal).

Inject the air in the syringe into the empty space in the top of the vial; this will help keep the pressure in the vial constant. Submerge the needle tip in the medication, and gently draw it into the syringe.

It’s normal to have some air left in the syringe; or to accidentally draw some in from the vial. You can squirt some medication back into the syringe to remove the air bubbles; or tap the syringe to shake them free. Tiny air bubbles are normal and harmless; but you don’t want a large bubble in there!

When finished, withdraw the needle from the vial smoothly and quickly. (This is a non-issue with thicker medications, such as Estradiol; but with a thinner medication - such as Progesterone - withdrawing the needle slowly can cause a small amount of medication to squirt out of the vial.)

Preparing the injection

Remove the large needle from the syringe and replace it with the small one. Push the plunger ever so slightly; if you see a tiny drop of medication at the end of the small syringe; this confirms that there’s no air remaining.

You should now have a filled syringe, ready to go!

These injections are intramuscular; that is to say, the goal is to create a 'depot’ (i.e. little bubble) of the medication in a muscle. This is exactly the same as most vaccinations; except they are normally delivered in the deltoid muscle of the arm, whereas these injections will be delivered to the vastus lateralis muscle in the upper thigh.

(Location is determined by a number of factors; primarily, the size of the depot being created. Vaccinations tend to involve very small amounts of fluid; and so it is more convenient to inject them into the likewise smaller deltoid.)

Imagine the top of your thigh is divided horizontally into three sections, and you can see the dividing lines. The line nearest your body is the target. It is recommended that you rotate your injection site with every shot. My rotation schedule looks like this:

Outside of the left thigh,

Outside of the right thigh,

Middle of the left thigh,

Middle of the right thigh,

Inside of the left thigh,

Inside of the right thigh.

Keep in mind that some spots are more awkward to access than others. (Today’s injection was in the outside right thigh; as I’m left-handed, having to reach across my body is a nuisance.)

Once you know where the injection will be going, clean the area with your other alcohol pad. Give it some time for the alcohol on your skin to evaporate. (You can fan air over the skin to speed up this process.)

If there is still alcohol on your skin when you perform the injection, it will be carried into your tissue and create a burning sensation. This is not dangerous; but it is unpleasant and something you will want to avoid.

Inserting the needle

Everything is ready! (Also, there are no images for this part; I needed both hands here for what I was doing.)

Sit on a chair or similar object, so you can your thighs are horizontal and your lower legs vertical. Find a position where your muscles are relaxed. (Tense muscle tissue is harder to penetrate; it won’t stop you from completing the injection, but it can cause more discomfort.)

Take the syringe in your dominant hand, and hold it like a throwing dart. With your other hand, pull the skin of your thigh taut, towards your knee. (This is the “Z-Track” method - it helps to prevent your medication from leaking back out of the injection site.) Take care not to place your fingers on the area you just cleaned.

Now, the part that gets people: you have to stick the needle in your thigh. Understandably, there is fear that this will hurt. It’s okay if you need a minute to work up the courage! Try to keep in mind that if you do everything right, discomfort should be minimal.

When you are ready: stick the needle in, quickly and smoothly, at a 90º angle.

Do not hesitate. (I totally get it - but if the needle doesn’t fully insert, you’re either going to have to push it the rest of the way, or remove it and try again. The faster and more confidently you insert the needle, the less you will feel it!)

Don’t worry about it going too far in. There’s a plastic nub at the end of the needle, designed specifically to prevent this from happening.

If everything has gone to plan, then the needle should be fully inserted in the thigh, and no longer visible. You can now remove the hand holding your skin taut. (This can feel a little weird at first, as the underlying tissue is trying to move back into position against the needle.)

Delivering the medication

With one hand, hold the tip of the syringe steady against your skin (so that you don’t accidentally withdraw the needle). With the other, slowly depress the plunger, injecting the medication into your muscle.

How slow? Slow. Nursing guidelines recommend ten seconds per 1ml of fluid injected. I normally double that. (Also: as aforementioned, Estradiol is frequently delivered in an oil-based medium, which makes it thicker. Thicker fluids take longer - and more effort - to push through a small needle. When in doubt, go slower.)

Cleanup

Once the medication is fully delivered, carefully remove the needle, and place the cap back on. You might see a drop of either medication or blood at the injection site; this is normal. Cover with a Band-Aid. You’re done!

Place both of your capped needles in a solid container. (I use an old prescription bottle.) This way, when you dispose of them, there’s no danger of someone getting poked by a used needle.

All other supplies should be disposed of (barring the aforementioned multi-use vials). Tempting though it might be to save time and money, do not reuse syringes or needles. (This is just asking for an infection!)

Aftercare

It’s normal for the injection site to be sore the next day (as if you had an invisible bruise). This is because the act of creating the bubble of medication in the muscle does a small amount of damage.

It’s not normal for the site to swell; turn red; itch; or become hot to the touch. These are signs of an infection. Such infections are easy to treat (usually with a course of antibiotics); but it’s important to seek medical attention quickly, as they can cause serious complications if left unattended. (This is especially true of the red patch grows rapidly!)

What can go wrong?

I’m not going to lie: lots of things.

A couple of times, inserting the needle has triggered a leg spasm. This doesn’t hurt; it just feels really, really weird.

Occasionally I will accidentally hit a blood vessel with the needle. (This is unavoidable; you can’t see them from the surface.) This doesn’t pose an issue other than being mildly painful.

I once hit a nerve the same way. The pain from doing so left me in tears. (I want to stress however, that this happened once in fifty-seven shots.)

There was a syringe with a defective plunger that wouldn’t depress the whole way. That was frustrating; but simply meant I had to start over and go again.

Likewise, I had a friend whose needle detached from the syringe while it was still in her thigh. Obviously, an upsetting scenario; but one that can be avoided by ensuring that the needles are firmly locked into place prior to use.

If you have questions or issues, and need help - be sure to ask to talk to a nurse at your provider’s office! They spend a lot of time poking people in various ways, and have a wealth of expertise to offer.

Another really resource is trans men! The amount of information they’ve gathered on the analogous act of injecting Testosterone is staggering! When I run into a problem I’ve never seen before, they are my first port of call.

What can go right?

If you perfect your technique and can overcome the mental hurdle of sticking a needle in yourself, the process can be quick and discomfort-free!

On the science side: different methods of administering Estradiol have corresponding levels of bioavailability (i.e. how much of the Estradiol actually ends up in your system and doing what it’s supposed to instead of, say, accidentally being digested). Of these, intramuscular injection has the highest degree of bioavailability .

Additionally, the hormone levels of cis women are not static; there’s a complex interplay at work where they rise and fall. Injecting Estradiol every two weeks more closely resembles this cycle than taking the same amount of medication every day.

A final plus: you only have to remember to take your medication fortnightly!

In conclusion

I hope this is helpful to every trans woman thinking about going down the injectable rabbit hole. It can be rather daunting; but if you’re willing to invest the time and effort, it can be incredible rewarding!

why the fuck did I willingly switch to injectable estrogen im fucking terrified of needles

Presentation

Last year my employer embarked on an initiative to improve presentation skills company-wide. We broke into groups of ten or so; ran through some training courses; and culminated things by each preparing a ten minute presentation on a topic of our choosing, to be delivered to our colleagues via video conference.

I was already out with half of the people in my group; so I figured this was as good a time as any to out myself to the remainder and to that effect prepared a presentation on the subject of transgenderism.

(It’s probably worth stressing at this point that I had been on HRT for a while at this point; and while the outward effects were minimal, internally it had realigned my brain and I was now all about being out; consequences be damned.)

Come presentation time, there were three people ahead of me. The first was the head of the customer service team, who delivered an excellent sermon on the subject of climate change. She was followed by a sales executive, who covered the importance of giving back to one’s community. The third was an intern from a musical family and sharing their passion.

(Impressively, he transitioned between his slides in such a way as to give the impression that he was flipping through pages of sheet music.)

Then it was my turn.

Alas, due to time constraints, I had neither prepared an accompanying PowerPoint, or practiced my presentation, or even put together anything bar the scantest notes taped around my monitor.

I launched right in with: “Today, I’ll be talking on the subject of transgenderism. This is a topic that is near and dear to my heart, because - as some people here already know and the others have most likely surmised - I am in fact transgender myself.”

(This brings me to two interesting asides:

First, I was dead wrong: nobody had deduced that I was trans.

Second, that human beings commit certain facts to memory in relation to their acquaintances - such as gender - and unless explicitly given reason to, will not update this information. I had bangs, pink streaks in my hair, and I was wearing a mint green top imprinted with a delicate floral pattern; and yet it was apparently still a surprise to some that I was not, in fact, male.

Both of these things were audibly confirmed when one audience member gasped into their microphone.)

I then proceeded to explain the concepts of gender identity and dysphoria; the pain the latter had brought me (having been actively suicidal as a teenager and passively suicidal as an adult); the process of transitioning and the many different parts involved.

Each presenter was given a few minutes afterwards to answer questions and solicit feedback. I opened the floor to my fellow group members, and our West Coast sales exec chimed in to let me know that she admired my bravery, and that she had my back. I was not aware at the time, but I had brought her to tears during my talk.

(This was apparently a common theme; several of my colleagues - including a number that already knew I was trans - had cried during proceeds.)

The course presenter then opted to postpone the next presentation to a later session, wryly noting: “There’s no way anyone tops that”.

In the following days I received emails from each and every person in the group; reiterating their support for me.

This was, for me, one of the highlights of my coming out process; but also, a most surreal event. What I perceived to be an nervous, stumbling exposition (made all the worse by hormone therapy, as I experienced stage fright for the first time in my life) was interpreted by the audience as a courageous baring of the soul.

If there is one takeaway for me, it is this: I had spent the entire duration of my career at this organization - a decade and a half - in utmost fear that were my second side ever discovered, I would most certainly be terminated. When it came time however to reveal my authentic self, I received only unanimous love and support.

There is no joy to be found in the anxious what-ifs; only in what lays beyond those fears.

Facebook friends

I may have a Facebook page. It’s a nice way to stay in touch with the family.

I have noticed however that the site’s friend-finding algorithm is a bit... wonky.

“Hey, you know how you have that friend on the opposite side of the country, and otherwise no mutual acquaintances? Well, here’s everyone they know. IRL friends, family, everyone. Are you sure don’t know some of these people?”

“Hey, we think you might know this person. You have no mutual friends. You don’t live in the same part of the world. We’ve raided your phone and email contacts and as far as we can determine, you have never communicated once in your lives. But... they’re trans. Are you sure you aren’t buddies?”

Machine learning has been all the rage of late (along with the godforsaken Cloud); but I’m really starting to think that if a company of Facebook’s size and expertise can pour millions of dollars into their friend-finding algo and this is the best it can do, well... we may be on course for yet another AI Winter.

Pain tolerance

Last week I happened to have an electrolysis appointment, followed immediately by a laser hair removal appointment.

Electrolysis involves permanently destroying the roots of undesired hairs with a fine-tipped, superheated needle. It smarts; but is generally bearable.

Matters change however in areas of the body with high numbers of nerve endings - like the upper and lower lips. Which is where the hairs are. On my face.

My electrologist is very aware of how much discomfort this procedure produces; and does her best to minimize the pain. All the same: it's common for her to end sessions with the phrase "You can breathe now". It's a literal instruction; in the last few minutes I will hold my breath in an attempt to ignore the pain.

(I cannot, alas, grit my teeth; as this would flex the very muscles underlying the areas my electrologist is working on.)

At my laser appointment, I discovered that my regular technician had left the clinic; and that my session would be conducted by a replacement.

Now, said technician was incredibly nice and did everything she could to put me at ease. (This was wise; it takes courage as a trans person to disrobe around strangers.) No complaints there.

I also know that in my prior sessions, I had the laser practically set to "Max". (The settings aren't quite that simple, mind you; I understand that the technician can control the size and intensity of the laser pulse, and the wavelength and how far it penetrates into the skin.)

High settings result, of course, in more discomfort. The treatment works by (once again) superheating the roots of unwanted hairs; albeit in patches approximately the size of a quarter. Where electrolysis involves singular, painful pokes in the skin, laser hair removal is more akin to sudden explosions of pain below the surface.

If there's no hair in the area, you feel nothing. If there's a lot of hair, it can really sting. (God help you if there's a long, ingrown hair snaking its way under the skin!)

I let the technician know I was okay with higher settings. (Another consideration: laser is, on a per-hair basis, extremely fast; but it is also not cheap. Turning down the power is an exercise in avoiding discomfort now, only to have to pay for additional treatments later; it's not a compromise I was willing to make.)

Well, I don't know what she set the machine on - I'm currently guessing some kind of wavelength with greater penetration of the skin -because she zapped my collarbone (where there is notably no visible hair) and I about screamed.

The only time I've felt laser light-related pain of this magnitude was (a) the aforementioned ingrown hair scenario, and (b) when my technician used a new machine that was later determined to be "Running hot".

(The latter actually left a couple of burn marks on the skin; they looked like dark splotches. Given their unfortunate location, one could posit - most inaccurately - that I had known carnal relations with a cephalopod.)

As painful as those experiences were, they were also isolated (perhaps one zap in every ten or twenty). This was just... constant. I was glad to be wearing a mask, so that my technician could not see me clenching my jaw; beads of sweat were running down my forehead. It was bad.

I came within a hair's breadth of tapping out and asking my technician to dial the power back; but again, could not stomach the cost. (A prevalent issue: American healthcare is needlessly costly; trans healthcare more so, do it's perceived elective nature.)

Things actually got better until we got to the lower inside portion of my left forearm, which again was agonizingly painful. I have no idea why this was the case - there's virtually no hair there; there were no visible marks left from the procedure.

(Sometimes you find small, yellow bruises from small blood vessels that were accidentally zapped; no evidence of that here either.)

It's still sore in that area; four days later. Whatever happened there was clearly non-trivial, and something I will bring up with my technician next time I see them. (This is also a prevalent theme: me trying to power through things I bloody well shouldn't.)

Anyhow, I mention all of this solely to state that the stupid pipe-cleaner swab they used in today's nasopharyngeal test was somehow worse than both being stabbed with electricity and shot full of lasers, and that I hope wherever the people are that designed the blasted thing, that their day is ruined!

Charcuterie

Ah, my spouse knows me so well! For Valentine's Day they got me my own charcuterie board, and I had to put it to use right away!

Ahhh, I love them so much! ❤️

Gardasil

During my last check-up, I got my first shot of the Gardasil HPV vaccine. The administering nurse did mention at the time that it would sting; and I say that she lied, it is only in the sense that the sensation was closer to what I would describe as a tremendously uncomfortable burning.

(I've accidentally achieved a similar effect when injecting my estradiol, by giving the alcohol I swab my skin with insufficient time to evaporate before inserting the needle.)

I did some research afterwards to see if there was an explanation as to why the vaccine had developed this reputation; the manufacturer indicated that the discomfort was the result of "Virus-like particles" in the vaccine content (which strikes me as a cop-out if ever there was one).

Today was my second shot; and playing a hunch, asked my nurse to try injecting the vaccine slowly. This was hardly a scientific test, but she kindly agreed and the injection experience was definitely more tolerable.

I am most certainly not medically trained; but I was instructed by my endocrinologist's office to administer my own estradiol and progesterone shots as slowly as possible. (My takeaway was that injecting a sizeable amount of fluid into a muscle at high speed causes unnecessary trauma to the surrounding tissue.)

Conversely, I've noticed that vaccine administration is usually done extremely quickly - I assume in part because the amount of fluid injected is much smaller; and also to minimize the length of the procedure. (You really don't want the patient to get restless and move while the needle is still inserted...)

It appears the Gardasil vaccine might utilize a larger amount of fluid; and a thicker medium, also. These things being true, I can see how rapidly injecting the stuff could be a lot more unpleasant versus most other vaccines.

So: if you're getting the shot for yourself, or for your loved ones - maybe ask the administrator to go slowly?

Escalator

While attending CONvergence, my friend and I needed to translate from one floor to another. Fortuitously, the venue had built an efficient escalator system for just this purpose.

As we escalated, a teenage girl (I presume; pronouns were not established) followed behind me. "I like your bag", she said; looking at all the little Mikus on the flap. There was a pause, and then she added, "I like your pins".

There are four pins on the rear of the bag - Amaterasu of Ōkami fame; one that reads "Hormone Therapy Club" and another, "Protect Trans Kids". (The fourth, less controversially, exclaims "Mom Vibes".)

"I wish the kids at school would stop calling me the f-slur". She said this with such quiet sadness in her voice. I didn't know what to say; couldn't say anything. It broke my heart.

We both stopped off at the next floor, and turned in opposite directions. I turned back. "Hey!" I yelled. "It will get better, okay? It will get better." That's the best I could manage.

I hope, wherever she is now, she's happy.

Dose one

Yesterday the wife, daughter and I got our first COVID vaccine doses. We go back in three weeks for the second dose. There haven’t been any real side effects barring the usual sore arm and some very minor feverishness / muscle aches.

(I have been lead to understand that the second dose may result in stronger side effects, which makes sense. An older fellow at the clinic told me in passing conversation that thanks to his second dose, he had experienced hot flashes and was now highly sympathetic to the plight of menopausal women.

This got a giggle from me; when I started HRT, my estradiol injections were spaced too far apart and as a result I would effectively experience menopausal symptoms. I replied with “I know how that goes!” and left it at that...)

Mentally however, I am struggling a bit. I will preface this with two items:

I am pro-science and pro-vaccine. I understand that no vaccine can be 100% safe; however, the odds of something going terribly wrong are far, far lower than if you contract COVID.

I had a very, very bad flashback the other night; one that practically set a new bar in terms of intensity; and I’m still feeling some of the effects from that days later.

So: I get very upset when I perceive my bodily integrity (or that of people I care about) being violated. The key factor is my consent. For instance:

At the end of my visa medical, I received two vaccinations. I took offense at (a) not being informed beforehand that this would happen, (b) the administering provider’s refusal to explain what they were for, and (c) the generally dehumanizing treatment I had been exposed to that day. (I have no problem with receiving vaccines as a prerequisite of entry to the US; it was how the process unfolded that was the issue.)

I have never had chickenpox, and elected to receive the varicella vaccine. Everything went smoothly, and I’m glad I made that choice.

To bring us full-circle:

I want to do my part to get us out of this pandemic; and that means being vaccinated. However, I cannot shake the feeling that this is being forced upon me - not by the nebulous puppet-masters that anti-vaxxer conspiracists like to point to, but by the various government institutions that prioritized partisan politics over protecting people, and the self-same people that prioritized their right to endanger others else instead of covering their stupid fleshy talk circles with a bit of cloth and knocking off the partying for a while.

It doesn’t sit well.

Alas, there’s not a whole lot I can do about this as the requirement to be vaccinated still stands; but it does rather mean that I have yet another reason (and I already had plenty to begin with) to intensely dislike the swathe of selfish misanthropes revealed during the course of this crisis.

Struck a nerve

Every two weeks I inject estradiol into my upper thigh muscle. There are six sites to choose from - the inner, middle, and outer surfaces of each leg - which I rotate through.

I'm a fan of middle thigh area. It's very easy to get a nice, perpendicular needle insertion. (The inner and outer thighs are trickier, often necessitating holding the needle at an angle or in a way where my own hand obscures the target.)

My last shot was into the right middle thigh. Perfect! I readied the syringe, swabbed the skin with an alcohol wipe, let it dry, pulled the skin taught, darted the needle in and screamed.

See, you can't really see what's under the skin; so sometimes you hit something on the way in that you shouldn't - like a blood vessel. I have an unerring ability to find blood vessels. It sucks, and it's unpleasant, but bearable.

This wasn't a blood vessel. It was a nerve.

There was probably a good minute or so of straight crying - needle sticking straight up out of my thigh, a tiny monument to my act of self-sabotage. Eventually I calmed down enough to inject the syringe contents and clean up.

I get that these sorts of things will happen when you routinely stab yourself on a fortnightly schedule but all the same, that was an experience I hope never, ever to repeat!

Movie Tag Game

Tagged in by @owlrageousjones! List seven favorite films, and then seven mutuals. (I'm going to whiff on the latter; sans the spouse, I don't have many movie buffs in my orbit.)

Favorite Movies

1. The Godfather (1972, dir. Francis Ford Coppola); 2. Batman Begins (2005, dir. Christopher Nolan); 3. The Dark Knight (2008, dir. Christopher Nolan); 4. Die Hard (1998, dir. John McTiernan).

There's a reason these four are grouped together! There was a time when my spouse struggled with falling asleep; and so we employed the above films as a soothing soundtrack, against which they could peacefully nod off.

(At least, as soothing as one might expect from a chorus of Chicago typewriters, eagerly punctuating Sonny Corleone; or John McClane, yelling intensely as he improvisationally repels down the side of Nakatomi Plaza.)

5. Grosse Pointe Blank (1997, dir. George Armitage).

An unusual blend of dark comedy, romance, and the occasional action set-piece; all set to a Gen X soundtrack. The premise sounds like high-concept word salad ("An ailing assassin in the midst of a midlife crisis rekindles an old relationship and battles fellow death-dealing competitors while attending his high school reunion"); and yet it somehow just works in the hands of the superbly capable cast.

(As a personal aside: there is a scene in which the protagonist finds himself staring into the wide eyes of a newborn infant, as Queen and David Bowie's Under Pressure swells in the background. I found this moment particularly touching; not least of which because it spurred me to the realization that I wanted to become a parent.)

6. John Wick (2014, dir. Chad Stahelski).

A fantastic example of a modestly-budgeted action film succeeding wildly on the strength of its compelling premise, intriguing world-building, and marriage of breathtaking choreography and stylish cinematography.

(Honorable mentions: Drive (1997); Dredd (2012); and The Raid: Redemption (2011) and it's follow-up, The Raid 2: Berandal (2014).)

7. Transformers: The Movie (1986, dir. Nelson Shin).

My god; there is so much I can (and will!) say about this movie.

For starters: it is not, conventionally-speaking, good.

Toy manufacturer Hasbro demanded that the dramatis personae of the first two seasons of the Transformers cartoon be written off; to make room for a new cast (and by extension, new toys). The producers gleefully complied by slaying beloved characters in an orgy of robot-on-robot violence that traumatized a generation of movie-going children.

(I should know; I was one of them!)

The narrative is nonsensical; and bounces frantically from one hair metal-accompanied set piece to the next without pause - until our protagonist (who has grown in literal height, if not as a person) unleashes the power of a previously undocumented McGuffin to save the day.

(In this respect, I harbor the belief that the producers cribbed significantly from 1981's Heavy Metal; which, respectfully, should probably not be the first choice of inspiration for a children's movie.)

Despite these deficiencies, however: it is a very, very watchable film!

The characters are likeable; the dialog, eminently quotable; and the voice cast perform their utmost.* The animation is spectacularly frenetic; and the soundtrack is surprisingly catchy (featuring the work of Stan Bush and Vince DiCola - notable for their contributions to Bloodsport and Rocky IV, respectively; and even "Weird Al" Yankovic)!

More than anything: this is a movie that trades in Rule Of Cool™ with childlike glee:

"What if we had a fully-operational battlestation; but instead of blowing planets up with a laser, it ate them?"

"...The two of them are out of ammo, and there's hundreds of enemies. So they hold a destruction derby - only it's underwater, right?"

"So the barbarian trash robots turn into motorcycles, and take turns riding each other, and they chase the good guys and then the good guy leader is exploded but it's okay, because the other good guys use the power of nonsense words to convince the trash robots to make him better; and then they have a dance-off..."

You won't learn anything from watching Transformers: The Movie; but it's fun, and strange, and surprisingly creative (while still operating within the unexplained requirement that everything and everyone turn into a robot, sooner or later)!

* There is a persistent rumor that Orson Welles was displeased to have starred in what was effectively a glorified toy commercial; exacerbated by both his self-professed lack of understanding of the movie's premise and plot, and his passing just five days after completing recording. This was not the case, however; as his grandchildren were fans, and he was enthused to have contributed to a franchise they loved.