"Twilight" angst

I did it. I broke down and rented Twilight. If you've been living under a rock for the past year and don't know what I'm referring to, then let me explain. Twilight , in this case, refers to the film adapted from the book bearing the same name by Stephanie Meyer, a Mormon mom from Arizona. Her series of four books revolves around a teenage love story between vampire Edward and human Bella. Yep. That pretty much explains my conundrum. I actually allowed myself to watch a film about that.

Snarl. (I would usually say "Ugh" or "Sigh" here, but in trying to harness the energy of vampires and werewolves, I'm choosing to "snarl.")

So I watched and I can't stop thinking about it. I am utterly befuddled and perplexed that that would be the phenomenon it is. USA Today is writing about how Meyer's books are phenoms to be noted. Whatever. I fully admit that I've not read the books. Had no desire. Still don't. But I guess in my quest to figure out how in the hell Twilight has come to rule the popular culture universe, I'd better give them a twirl.

Part of my angst about giving into Twilight was simply about vampires. Not a big fan. Never have been. I thought that the film Interview with a Vampire was disgusting. I remember returning the video (video, not DVD) and telling the clerk how awful it was. He asked why, and I explained that I had no desire to listen to LeStat slurp his phlebotomous meal. I certainly wasn't looking forward to watching teen vampires at all. Well, I shouldn't have worried because the kitsch and camp and cheese of Twilight surpassed the drama and seriousness of the older film.

Let me start with Kristen Stewart who plays Bella Swan. (Yes, that's the character's name. I know.) I get it Kristen. I get it. You're working hard, hard to show us how much angst Bella is in. Yes, please hold your cell phone 6 inches away from your head once Edward appears. You're depth perception is off and your muscles go limp as his presence. Just like in the photo above. You do listless really well. Now what is interesting about that photo is that your mouth is closed while Robert Pattinson, who plays Edward Cullen, has his open. That's pretty much a reversal for the film. You're mouth constantly gaps open in that teenage-angsty way. You are just too non-chalant to close it. It's like a subtle middle-finger to adults. "See, look at me. I'm so cool, I'm giving you a droopy bottom lip." The reason I chose that photo was because it did capture your general blase demeanor. It says to me, "Yeah, I may be about to fly through the Washington forest on the back of my vampire boyfriend, but I'm cool. No big deal."

I must address the dialogue in the film. No I don't. I won't spend the time. I'll just give the lamest lines, in my humble opinion. Choice #1: "You're like my own personal brand of heroin." Choice #2: Hold on, spider monkey." My nephew explained it best when he said, "Well, they didn't read as lame as they sounded [in the movie]."

No rant about Twilight would be complete without discussing the heartthrob-mania-inducing that is Robert Pattinson. He's handsome. No doubt about it. He passes the "I'd do him" test. But holy goodness... I get it! You're tormented by how much you want Bella. I get the inner turmoil. Seriously... it was painful to watch in places. But I forgive you because of those few moments like the kiss. That was some good shit. I forgive you because of that stern "You're my life now," to Bella as you head off to track some bad vampire. I know that I'm asking you to make steak out of hamburger, but seriously, when did cinematic teenage brooding become so painful to watch? I don't know, but I'm sure I'll see more of it in November when New Moon comes to theaters.

Ultimately, my angst about Twilight comes as a result of my strongly held belief in right and wrong. It seems so utterly criminal to me that this is what holds the imagination of teenaged and middle-aged (quelle horreur!) females. Where is the Barbara Kingsolver in their libraries? Margaret Atwood? Toni Morrison? Isabel Allende? If they're not in the library, they're surely not in the movie theater. It says something that some of the very best storytelling in the last two years has come from the folks at Pixar. I admit it. I'm jealous. Jealous as hell that Meyer is the rich bitch she is because of this junk. I'm jealous that I didn't have a vampire boyfriend in high school that looked that good in a black suit and/or pea jacket. It feels wrong that I'm jealous.

Or maybe it's just the lack of oxygen in the cultural air that makes me feel so dizzy.