I attended the midnight premiere of teeny-bopper sensation Twilight: New Moon, this morning. Having re-read that sentence after writing it, I am probably as baffled as you are as to why I agreed to go along with it. Suffice to say, I have a friend who is a big Twilight fan, and I didn’t want her to have to brave the crowd alone, so agreed to do a solid for her while also fulfilling a morbid curiosity to figure out what this Twilight phenomenon was all about.
And hey, I figured maybe there was an outside chance I could find something to like about Twilight. I mean, I love the song “Twilight” by ELO (which is initially what I thought the movies were a derivative of), I didn’t completely 100% loathe Underworld, another Vampire/Werewolf genre piece, and, way back in the day, I actually thoroughly enjoyed Interview with the Vampire.
Of course, I realize that the genre didn’t start with Ann Rice either, but there does seem to be a great deal more substance in these pieces as we trace them closer to their original source. The new genre of Vampire fare (including HBO’s True Blood) seem to be what happens when you make a copy of a copy of a copy. The whole thing gets incredibly fuzzy, and the quality drops off the table.
While standing in line amidst a throng of teenaged (and wistfully nostalgic honorary teenaged) girls, I asked my movie companion whether the traditional vampire rules applied to these Twilight vampires, and I learned the following:
— Twilight vampires are not harmed by garlic (heck, they are so chic they probably grow their own basil to make pesto for their vamp-dinners)
— Twilight vampires are not harmed by crosses (hard to keep up a proper goth look without them, I suppose)
— Twilight vampires are not harmed by stakes to the heart (this would piss off Van Helsing to no end)
— Twilight vampires are not harmed by the sun…
The sun? These vampires aren’t hurt by the sun? What exactly makes them vampires, again? Sure, they drink blood, but so does Billy Bob Thornton, and he ain’t no vampire either. I mean, there are quasi-precedents for this, like Blade, the Daywalker but even Blade was a huge anomaly in the vampire world, as he wasn’t 100% vampire.
You see, when Twilight vampires are exposed to the sun, they… well… they twinkle. Basically, when Twilight vampires have sun shined on them, they look like Mariah Carey. Jesus, could we soften up this monster legend any more? How about instead of fangs, the Twilight vampires have candy corn incisors, and instead of blood, they really lust after gazpacho soup.
The strange thing is, even after watching the entire movie, I learned almost nothing more about Twilight vampires that made any kind of sense at all. The movie is a perfect replication of the mind of a teenaged girl. The main character (a 17-year old girl) Bella, basically sits, and pines for her vampire boyfriend for 90% of the movie. She becomes depressed, she listens to her Ipod, she throws tantrums, she hangs out with the local neighborhood boy (the modern incarnation of Pacey), and melodramatically fakes suicide over and over in the hopes that her passive-aggressive vampire boy, Edward (Dawson), will come to save her. She sulks, she cries, she thinks about going to live with her mom, and then she goes off on a spontaneous (and random) jaunt to Italy to frolic with the tourists.
As expected, the movie was instantly forgettable — even now, details of the “plot” are rapidly falling out of my head. But, honestly, I can’t even say I disliked this movie as much as the Time Traveler’s Wife. Time Traveler’s Wife seemed harmful on several levels (in part by implanting the desire to marry abusive husbands). Twilight: New Moon is about as harmless as you can possibly get. And frankly, there are many movies from my teenage generation that mirror this plot exactly. Teenaged girl pines until she discovers a magical world of new powers and boyfriends?
Exhibit A: Teen Witch
Exhibit B: Labyrinth
Exhibit C: The male 80’s equivalent: The Lost Boys
So, yeah. I don’t think it comes as a surprise to anyone that a money-driven sequel based on a tired genre brings absolutely nothing new to the table. What’s disturbing is that no one seems to expect any blockbuster these days to bring anything new to the table. Is it possible that our pop-culture is stuck in some kind of mobius strip of bad children fare, followed by bad teen-aged fare, followed by bad superhero blockbusters, followed by bad middle-aged life dramas? Christ, American media is depressing.
