Battleship

is a loud, dumb, testosterone-fueled, nonsensical film that at no point makes the slightest bit of sense. 

I still very much enjoyed watching it. 

I've puzzled a bit about why.  Some of my affection is due to the simple, obvious things:  I like me a bit of testosterone-fueled alien fighting, particularly when lots of things go, "BOOM!"  Mostly, though, I think it's because throughout the entire more than two hours of this movie it never took itself too seriously, and director Peter Berg and the cast always seemed to be having fun.  Each time we'd wander too close to emotional complexity, Berg would wisely insert some action and move rapidly forward to the next piece of fighting silliness. 

In fact, the only times the movie sagged at all were those when Berg was not quick enough to cut away, and we had to deal with the sad spectacle of Taylor Kitsch or Brooklyn Decker actually emoting. 

Of course, this analysis assumes you are willing to check your logic at the theater door.  If you are not, the strange ways of the aliens, the...no, I just won't.  Either you sit back and let the fun wash over you, or you'll hate Battleship. 

If, however, you can surrender to the movie's craziness, you're in for a fun ride.