Last night, Dori and I saw the new Twilight movie, “New Moon.”
I’d only seen the first half-hour of the first one, because Dori, who read the book, rented it. But I had to leave when one of the vampires started twinkling in the sunlight. No joke. He twinkled… like the bedazzled little turd-herder he is.
So, outside of the sparkling, I was pretty much out of the loop as to what actually happens in these films, beyond the overwhelming amount of teenagers being pretty put out by, well, everything. (There’s also a record amount of “like” and “um” in the dialogue. Pretty sure the script is just filled with those words, and no others. Maybe the screenwriter for this should hang out with the screenwriter from “Juno.” Then they can make teenagers’ heads explode.) Turns out you don’t really NEED to know what happens in the first film, because the second one is so awful, you don’t care three minutes in. Sure, it made $150 million in its first weekend or something like that, but so did Sarah Palin’s book thanks to that Darth Vader of daytime television, Oprah.
Save for some pretty great special effects when some werewolves fight– yes, the best part of a VAMPIRE film is when NON-VAMPIRES do something– this movie was bad… to a point where it could almost be one of those films we’d rent back in the day and make fun of the entire time.
I’ll stop ripping on it here, so as not to give anything away in case you are a huge fan and don’t care what my heartless, soul-less ass thinks about this supernatural love story. I’ll instead leave you with my favorite piece of dialogue. To set the scene, they’re in the woods (big shock), and something emotionally riveting is about to happen. Twinkle-pants is telling the drippy female lead he and his vampire family have to leave town. I can’t remember exactly because I was trying to count my teeth at this point… by running my tongue over each individual one slowly and carefully. But then this happens. Say it out loud for maximum effect:
Bella: Are you telling me you don’t want me to come?
Edward: (after about two minutes of them just looking at each other, stifling tears… or seizures) I don’t want you to come.
I almost passed out trying not to laugh at this. Largely because these kids would have WAY less problems if they WOULD come. But instead of getting drunk and hand-jobbing each other, like good American teens should be doing at this age, they’re worried about dumb shit, like sunlight and LiveJournal.
Oh– AND, my former arch-nemesis is in this. (Not Tom Hanks. The most recent one.)
Just thought I’d share… in case you can see this with people who will drink and laugh at it with you.
Better than any post I’ve ever written,