I came into the screening of "Breaking Dawn: Part One" a TwiVirgin. Yes, believe
it or not, over the past few years I've somehow managed to avoid, both
professionally and socially, any prolonged exposure to the wildly popular films
based on the wildly popular novels by Stephenie Meyer. And I've been glad of it,
frankly, because as someone who fell in love with movies largely on account of
the horror genre, I have to own up that what I knew of the way Meyer was messing
with the supernatural metaphors that captured the imagination of my admittedly
imaginatively twisted childhood gave me something of an intensive pain.
Vampires and werewolves, once metaphors for guilty but decadent consumption
and untrammeled but hate-yourself-in-the-morning id, respectively, were now
being pedaled in abstinence parables. Whole thing sounded like "Dark Shadows"
crossed with an Afterschool Special. Ugh. And then I learned that in "Breaking
Dawn, Part One," the first film in the epic conclusion to the "saga," sensitive
vampire Edward and sultry but nice girl Bella get hitched and conceive a child
who gives Bella all kinds of belly trouble. Oh, great, I thought. After messing
up Dracula and the Wolfman, now they're gonna ruin "It's Alive!"
So imagine my surprise when I emerged from this movie not in pain but
actually having rather enjoyed it, at least in part. "Twilight Saga" fans, let
me ask you two questions: Has Robert Pattinson, who plays Edward, been doing
this implied impersonation of Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy in "On the Waterfront" for the entirety of the film
series? Because if so, my hat is off to him. Also: in the whole wolf gang versus
vampire gang thing, who are the Sharks and who are the Jets? I'm guessing the
vampires are the Jets, am I right?
The director for this installment of the series is Bill Condon, who, way before he helmed such
distinguished dramatic fare as "Kinsey," had a hand in crafting a couple of pretty
subversive teen-based horror and sci-fi movies, "Strange Behavior" and "Strange Invaders." Here he doesn't do anything to
subvert the highly teen-inflaming material itself -- Condon is both highly
professional and not an idiot -- but he does attack it with genuine wit
and a real affection for and knowledge of the genres that the saga, um, branches
off from. The first ten minutes alone contain a juicy clip from the original "Bride of Frankenstein" (Condon also, not
coincidentally, made the sensitive and moving "Gods and Monsters," a biopic of "Bride"'s director
James Whale) and a ravishing dream sequence whose visual scheme is directly
inspired by "Blood and Roses," an early '60s French vampire
film by Roger Vadim. The teens at whom this film is
squarely aimed won't spot the reference, Condon is resourceful enough to insert
it in such a way that it doesn't necessarily stick out as such; in any event,
it's a good fit.
Of course there are some things here that Condon cannot do a whole hell of a
lot about, too. One of them being that, abs or no abs, Taylor Lautner, who plays the cranky
boy-wolf Jacob, is almost as bad an actor as Tommy Wiseau, without the excuse
even of English being his second or third or fourth language. But of course the
biggest problem is that the whole storyline is based around some of the
dopiest premises ever conceived by any human ever.
The filmmaking is for the most part witty and intelligent and fleet enough to
make you forget that a lot of the time, but every now and then -- say, during an
earnest shot of Edward's vampire "family" in which everyone looks like they're
taking a break from a shoot for a music video that's paying homage to "Carnival of Souls" -- one does get this "Oh my
God, what am I watching?" feeling. But then it goes away, and one instead
notices that these films would appear to be the only occasions for which female
star Kristen Stewart can actually be compelled to,
like, stand up straight, and one is grateful. One is also grateful for the
film's finale -- its last five minutes or so, leading up to a final shot that's
actually as awesome as it is predictable -- which is genuinely brilliant. There,
I said it.
Glenn Kenny is chief film critic for MSN Movies. He was the chief film
critic for Premiere magazine from 1998 to 2007. He contributes to various
publications and websites, and blogs at http://somecamerunning.typepad.com. He lives
in Brooklyn.
For more movie news, follow MSN Movies on Facebook and Twitter.
I came into the screening of "Breaking Dawn: Part One" a TwiVirgin. Yes, believe
it or not, over the past few years I've somehow managed to avoid, both
professionally and socially, any prolonged exposure to the wildly popular films
based on the wildly popular novels by Stephenie Meyer. And I've been glad of it,
frankly, because as someone who fell in love with movies largely on account of
the horror genre, I have to own up that what I knew of the way Meyer was messing
with the supernatural metaphors that captured the imagination of my admittedly
imaginatively twisted childhood gave me something of an intensive pain.
Vampires and werewolves, once metaphors for guilty but decadent consumption
and untrammeled but hate-yourself-in-the-morning id, respectively, were now
being pedaled in abstinence parables. Whole thing sounded like "Dark Shadows"
crossed with an Afterschool Special. Ugh. And then I learned that in "Breaking
Dawn, Part One," the first film in the epic conclusion to the "saga," sensitive
vampire Edward and sultry but nice girl Bella get hitched and conceive a child
who gives Bella all kinds of belly trouble. Oh, great, I thought. After messing
up Dracula and the Wolfman, now they're gonna ruin "It's Alive!"
So imagine my surprise when I emerged from this movie not in pain but
actually having rather enjoyed it, at least in part. "Twilight Saga" fans, let
me ask you two questions: Has Robert Pattinson, who plays Edward, been doing
this implied impersonation of Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy in "On the Waterfront" for the entirety of the film
series? Because if so, my hat is off to him. Also: in the whole wolf gang versus
vampire gang thing, who are the Sharks and who are the Jets? I'm guessing the
vampires are the Jets, am I right?
The director for this installment of the series is Bill Condon, who, way before he helmed such
distinguished dramatic fare as "Kinsey," had a hand in crafting a couple of pretty
subversive teen-based horror and sci-fi movies, "Strange Behavior" and "Strange Invaders." Here he doesn't do anything to
subvert the highly teen-inflaming material itself -- Condon is both highly
professional and not an idiot -- but he does attack it with genuine wit
and a real affection for and knowledge of the genres that the saga, um, branches
off from. The first ten minutes alone contain a juicy clip from the original "Bride of Frankenstein" (Condon also, not
coincidentally, made the sensitive and moving "Gods and Monsters," a biopic of "Bride"'s director
James Whale) and a ravishing dream sequence whose visual scheme is directly
inspired by "Blood and Roses," an early '60s French vampire
film by Roger Vadim. The teens at whom this film is
squarely aimed won't spot the reference, Condon is resourceful enough to insert
it in such a way that it doesn't necessarily stick out as such; in any event,
it's a good fit.
Of course there are some things here that Condon cannot do a whole hell of a
lot about, too. One of them being that, abs or no abs, Taylor Lautner, who plays the cranky
boy-wolf Jacob, is almost as bad an actor as Tommy Wiseau, without the excuse
even of English being his second or third or fourth language. But of course the
biggest problem is that the whole storyline is based around some of the
dopiest premises ever conceived by any human ever.
The filmmaking is for the most part witty and intelligent and fleet enough to
make you forget that a lot of the time, but every now and then -- say, during an
earnest shot of Edward's vampire "family" in which everyone looks like they're
taking a break from a shoot for a music video that's paying homage to "Carnival of Souls" -- one does get this "Oh my
God, what am I watching?" feeling. But then it goes away, and one instead
notices that these films would appear to be the only occasions for which female
star Kristen Stewart can actually be compelled to,
like, stand up straight, and one is grateful. One is also grateful for the
film's finale -- its last five minutes or so, leading up to a final shot that's
actually as awesome as it is predictable -- which is genuinely brilliant. There,
I said it.
Glenn Kenny is chief film critic for MSN Movies. He was the chief film
critic for Premiere magazine from 1998 to 2007. He contributes to various
publications and websites, and blogs at http://somecamerunning.typepad.com. He lives
in Brooklyn.
For more movie news, follow MSN Movies on Facebook and Twitter.