Sweet, another placeholder chapter. Twilight comes to a standstill whenever the "action" moves to Forks High - who am I kidding, the entire story is lugubriously paced but that's beside the point.
Edward, ever the gentleman, drives Bella to school. Edward mentions that he's "breaking all the rules now" by canoodling with her, which is unintentionally amusing. Girls love the bad boy in the biker gang, well this one is such a bad boy that even the biker gang can't handle him anymore!
A long day of gossiping with her dipshit friends awaits Bella, given that they saw Bella and Edward together over the weekend. Bella has the drop on them, though, because her new squeeze can read their minds. That is, she will if she can survive being in Edward's presence. "He paused to catch a stray lock of my hair that was escaping the twist on my neck and wound it back into place. My heart spluttered hyperactively." I'm no expert on anatomy but it sure sounds like Bella's heart is hemorrhaging blood while simultaneously beating arrhythmically. There's almost collateral damage - "three people walking in the door stopped to stare at" Bella and Edward. I'm imagining a Three Stoges-style collision nearly being averted but that's just life at Forks High.
Bella has a great chance to turn the tables on Edward, but of course she blows it. She knows he's eavesdropping when she tells Jennifer about her "date" with Edward, so when she mentions how the waitress was gawking at him but he ignored her, she does so slightly toyingly. It's the first spark of life from her in the entire book. The rest of the time, though, she worries too much about what Edward is picking up. Bella's remark that she thinks she likes Edward more than he likes her proves to be a bone of contention during their lunch together, although since this is a Bella/Edward conversation it's predictably coma-inducing. For the record, she's wrong, but Edward isn't going to win World's Most Passionate Lover anytime soon, especially because he's intentionally distancing himself from Bella. Somehow this makes her fall for him even more.
There's also the usual bits about everyone in the cafeteria staring at them and Bella being unable to function in Edward's presence. It's not my fault this crap isn't fun to summarize.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 9
Chapter 9 is a continuation of the eighth chapter; Bella had been grilling Edward, now it's Edward's turn. He wants to know Bella's latest theory about his identity, but instead of her usual lame-brained superhero claptrap, she pulls out the vampire card. She claims that she doesn't buy it - after all, her exhaustive research on Google proved insufficient. But she also tells Edward that "it doesn't matter to me what you are." Slightly shocking for those of us who don't read between the lines, but we know that what she really means is that she doesn't care because he's sculpted from pure marble. That doesn't stop her from asking how old he is. He's seventeen, of course... but he's been seventeen for a while. Naturally, Bella's only reaction is that she's "pleased that he was still being honest with me." It's one thing to drink blood, but for the love of God don't lie about it.
Side note - Edward's one vice is driving expensive cars fast. It's a breath of fresh air to know that somebody in Forks is capable of having a good time, unlike You-Know-Who.
The beautiful thing about dealing with mythological creatures is that you can invent your own rules if what is popularly accepted doesn't suit your whims. Critics can bloviate all they want about Twilight vampires not being "real" vampires but unless you're well-versed in European folklore, you don't know shit about a real vampire and oh yeah, last time I checked vampires aren't real anyway (if you really want a vampire powers/weaknesses primer, check out this chart. So of course Edward can walk in the daylight and doesn't sleep in a coffin, those are just silly myths. He doesn't sleep in a coffin because he doesn't sleep - he's Cameron! - and the daylight thing... well, we all know what happens to these vampires in the daylight. He does drink blood, though, but he sticks to animal blood.
The rest of their conversation is not untrod ground, and I doubt it'll be the last variation on this theme. Edward talks about how dangerous he is, Bella says she doesn't care, Edward repeats that he's dangerous but doesn't leave her alone, etc. A more gifted author, or at least one not trying to pander to a certain audience, could mine this material for something useful. Frankenstein isn't a classic story simply because it's a gothic monster tale but because the creature aspires to be more than an abomination while fully realizing that he's damned. It's possible that Edward will have a compelling explanation for why he desires Bella, but Bella's love for Edward will almost certainly be solely predicated by the fact that he's exotic and gorgeous.
Hence the final sentences of the chapter, after Bella arrives safely at home. "About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second there was part of him - and I didn't know how potent that part might be - that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him." He's James Dean with fangs, and he'll never be characterized deeper than that.
Side note - Edward's one vice is driving expensive cars fast. It's a breath of fresh air to know that somebody in Forks is capable of having a good time, unlike You-Know-Who.
The beautiful thing about dealing with mythological creatures is that you can invent your own rules if what is popularly accepted doesn't suit your whims. Critics can bloviate all they want about Twilight vampires not being "real" vampires but unless you're well-versed in European folklore, you don't know shit about a real vampire and oh yeah, last time I checked vampires aren't real anyway (if you really want a vampire powers/weaknesses primer, check out this chart. So of course Edward can walk in the daylight and doesn't sleep in a coffin, those are just silly myths. He doesn't sleep in a coffin because he doesn't sleep - he's Cameron! - and the daylight thing... well, we all know what happens to these vampires in the daylight. He does drink blood, though, but he sticks to animal blood.
The rest of their conversation is not untrod ground, and I doubt it'll be the last variation on this theme. Edward talks about how dangerous he is, Bella says she doesn't care, Edward repeats that he's dangerous but doesn't leave her alone, etc. A more gifted author, or at least one not trying to pander to a certain audience, could mine this material for something useful. Frankenstein isn't a classic story simply because it's a gothic monster tale but because the creature aspires to be more than an abomination while fully realizing that he's damned. It's possible that Edward will have a compelling explanation for why he desires Bella, but Bella's love for Edward will almost certainly be solely predicated by the fact that he's exotic and gorgeous.
Hence the final sentences of the chapter, after Bella arrives safely at home. "About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second there was part of him - and I didn't know how potent that part might be - that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him." He's James Dean with fangs, and he'll never be characterized deeper than that.
We interrupt our Twilight coverage to bring you more Twilight.
From the video geniuses at Black20, who also blessed us with Transforminators, Saw School Musical, and the PG version of 300.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 8
After the previous chapter's plotless crapfest, it's only fair that we get a lot of activity in chapter 8. Bella and her loser "friends" go dress shopping for the Sadie Hawkins dance - Bella still intends on skipping, but somebody has to squeal about how cute one dress is and how another is so totally wrong, etc. They split up before dinner so Bella can check out a bookstore but of course she gets her dumb ass lost, and very nearly mugged/raped/murdered by some street toughs. Good thing Edward is there to save the day.
Yes, he's Bella's knight in sparkly armor, but right now he's too busy trying to keep from devouring her would-be attackers to be a proper Prince Charming. Fortunately he's got just what he needs to take his mind off of his bloodlust. "Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down," he tells Bella, perhaps with more insight than Meyer had in mind.
Edward can't keep up such suspicious behavior without an explanation, so he takes her to dinner. The waitress treats him like she needs a change of panties, and all of a sudden it hits me: Edward is Jon Hamm. For those of you who watched 30 Rock last year, Edward is the equivalent of the doctor who coasts through life by virtue of his staggering good looks. For those of you who don't watch 30 Rock, take a gander at this magnificent hunk of beefcake:
Fred Phelps would go gay for this man.
This, meanwhile, is what Edward looks like in the Twilight movies:
Robert Pattinson looks like he does more cocaine than Kristen Stewart.
I suppose when it comes to the ideal man, tweenage girls and I don't see eye to eye. I think I should be pleased.
Before I delve into our future soul mates' conversation, I should note the following sentence: "Edward was shrugging out of his jacket." It's one of those syntactical choices that cause mental red flags to pop up everywhere, and it's not the only time Meyer uses this expression, either.
Edward gets down to brass tacks: he can read everyone's mind, but for some reason he can't read Bella's. He admits to stalking her but it's for her own good: "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes." And he confesses that it was all he could do to keep from murdering the thugs she ran into. Not only does Bella take all of this information completely in stride, but she's more fascinated by him than ever before. The things you can get away with when (depending on what people find attractive) you have a jaw that's composed entirely of square angles or look like you haven't brushed your hair since the Clinton administration.
Yes, he's Bella's knight in sparkly armor, but right now he's too busy trying to keep from devouring her would-be attackers to be a proper Prince Charming. Fortunately he's got just what he needs to take his mind off of his bloodlust. "Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down," he tells Bella, perhaps with more insight than Meyer had in mind.
Edward can't keep up such suspicious behavior without an explanation, so he takes her to dinner. The waitress treats him like she needs a change of panties, and all of a sudden it hits me: Edward is Jon Hamm. For those of you who watched 30 Rock last year, Edward is the equivalent of the doctor who coasts through life by virtue of his staggering good looks. For those of you who don't watch 30 Rock, take a gander at this magnificent hunk of beefcake:
Fred Phelps would go gay for this man.
This, meanwhile, is what Edward looks like in the Twilight movies:
Robert Pattinson looks like he does more cocaine than Kristen Stewart.
I suppose when it comes to the ideal man, tweenage girls and I don't see eye to eye. I think I should be pleased.
Before I delve into our future soul mates' conversation, I should note the following sentence: "Edward was shrugging out of his jacket." It's one of those syntactical choices that cause mental red flags to pop up everywhere, and it's not the only time Meyer uses this expression, either.
Edward gets down to brass tacks: he can read everyone's mind, but for some reason he can't read Bella's. He admits to stalking her but it's for her own good: "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes." And he confesses that it was all he could do to keep from murdering the thugs she ran into. Not only does Bella take all of this information completely in stride, but she's more fascinated by him than ever before. The things you can get away with when (depending on what people find attractive) you have a jaw that's composed entirely of square angles or look like you haven't brushed your hair since the Clinton administration.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sometimes I read actual literature: Nickel and Dimed
I picked up a free used copy of Barbara Ehrenreich's Nickel and Dimed and decided to give it a shot, since I don't like being seen reading Twilight in public.
For those of you who haven't taken Intro to Sociology in the past five years, Ehrenreich takes a break from being a journalist and goes "undercover" to see what life is like as a member of the working poor. Whether it's in a Twin Cities Wal-Mart or a restaurant in Key West, she abandons her upper-class privilege and guts out living on scant hourly salaries. Spoiler alert: she thinks wages are too low.
To my surprise, it's very lighthearted. That's not to say that it's a cheerful romp through the travails of the lower class, but Ehrenreich's voice and sense of humor keep the proceedings from being too depressing. A nonfiction book such as this lives and dies on how well you identify with the author, and Ehrenreich is a very likable protagonist. She's done her research on nationwide trends, too; anyone willing to dismiss her reports as anecdotal evidence would do well to check out her footnotes. Nickel and Dimed is dependently liberal but it's not a screed.
Nickel and Dimed was written and published during a period of American prosperity, in the sweet spot of the dot-com bubble. Ehrenreich continually describes a tight labor market and how the poor have vanished from the public consciousness. It's grimly amusing how times have changed.
There's no question that Nickel and Dimed works, but whether it holds up under scrutiny or not is debatable. Though it's now a staple of college classes, it's not as academically sound as, say, William Julius Wilson's When Work Disappears (which, incidentally, is also ten times as depressing). It's no secret that Ehrenreich resides on the left side of the political spectrum, but the casual reader doesn't realize how so. According to Very Reliable Source Wikipedia, she's involved with the Democratic Socialists of America and NORML. This information doesn't discredit her, of course, but it's valid to assume that in writing Nickel and Dimed, she found what she was looking for.
That's the assertion of Adam Shepard, anyway, who wrote Scratch Beginnings as a response. Some cursory research into his book - where he sets out to find work in Charleston, SC with $25 and nothing else - has made me interested in reading it, not that my bookshelf isn't crowded enough as it is. Ehrenreich found nothing but failure; he ended up with a car, an apartment, and some money in savings. Of course, he's fresh out of college whereas she's a woman in her fifties, and he seemed to be pretty biased going into his social experiment himself. Ehrenreich relied heavily on residential hotels for shelter, a far more costly choice than a long-term apartment lease. But her experiment requires her to take short-term housing, and her research shows that she's not the only one blowing money on week-by-week housing. Nonetheless, it's always good to stay skeptical, even when reading a lauded work like Nickel and Dimed. Ehrenreich has a new book out about the pitfalls of optimism, and I'd love to check it out if I ever have the time. Shitty books don't read themselves, you know.
For those of you who haven't taken Intro to Sociology in the past five years, Ehrenreich takes a break from being a journalist and goes "undercover" to see what life is like as a member of the working poor. Whether it's in a Twin Cities Wal-Mart or a restaurant in Key West, she abandons her upper-class privilege and guts out living on scant hourly salaries. Spoiler alert: she thinks wages are too low.
To my surprise, it's very lighthearted. That's not to say that it's a cheerful romp through the travails of the lower class, but Ehrenreich's voice and sense of humor keep the proceedings from being too depressing. A nonfiction book such as this lives and dies on how well you identify with the author, and Ehrenreich is a very likable protagonist. She's done her research on nationwide trends, too; anyone willing to dismiss her reports as anecdotal evidence would do well to check out her footnotes. Nickel and Dimed is dependently liberal but it's not a screed.
Nickel and Dimed was written and published during a period of American prosperity, in the sweet spot of the dot-com bubble. Ehrenreich continually describes a tight labor market and how the poor have vanished from the public consciousness. It's grimly amusing how times have changed.
There's no question that Nickel and Dimed works, but whether it holds up under scrutiny or not is debatable. Though it's now a staple of college classes, it's not as academically sound as, say, William Julius Wilson's When Work Disappears (which, incidentally, is also ten times as depressing). It's no secret that Ehrenreich resides on the left side of the political spectrum, but the casual reader doesn't realize how so. According to Very Reliable Source Wikipedia, she's involved with the Democratic Socialists of America and NORML. This information doesn't discredit her, of course, but it's valid to assume that in writing Nickel and Dimed, she found what she was looking for.
That's the assertion of Adam Shepard, anyway, who wrote Scratch Beginnings as a response. Some cursory research into his book - where he sets out to find work in Charleston, SC with $25 and nothing else - has made me interested in reading it, not that my bookshelf isn't crowded enough as it is. Ehrenreich found nothing but failure; he ended up with a car, an apartment, and some money in savings. Of course, he's fresh out of college whereas she's a woman in her fifties, and he seemed to be pretty biased going into his social experiment himself. Ehrenreich relied heavily on residential hotels for shelter, a far more costly choice than a long-term apartment lease. But her experiment requires her to take short-term housing, and her research shows that she's not the only one blowing money on week-by-week housing. Nonetheless, it's always good to stay skeptical, even when reading a lauded work like Nickel and Dimed. Ehrenreich has a new book out about the pitfalls of optimism, and I'd love to check it out if I ever have the time. Shitty books don't read themselves, you know.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 7
Time to see what Bella Swan is up to this week in It's Always Surly in Forksadelphia.
As you may recall, Chapter 6 ended with a werewolf telling Bella that her hot frenemy is a vampire. She's having a hard time processing this information, naturally, and has a nightmare where Jacob turns into a wolf and attacks her and Edward comes to her rescue. Society can refine itself all it wants, but - and doubly so in the horror genre - sex will always equal death.
It also bears mentioning that there's a ridiculous sequence preceding Bella's dream where she tries to lose herself in music. Meyer doesn't tell us who the artist is, though, and doesn't even make one up, leading to sentences that are excruciating in their awkwardness.
The next day, Bella does some research on vampires, using the always reliable source The Internet. Frustrated by what she finds, she decides to go for a walk in the woods and... whatever.
I'm sorry, I don't feel like summarizing the rest of the chapter. It sucks. It really, really does.
Even people with no experience in creative writing has heard that it's better to show and not tell. Alas, Meyer is writing for a young audience using a first-person narrator, so all the reader gets is tell, tell, tell. The fact that Bella does all the telling makes it worse. Telling instead of showing isn't just the work of an unskilled author, it's also painfully boring. To make things worse, there are unbearable stretches where all of the sentences have "I" as the subject.
In summary, when Chapter 7 comes to a merciful end Bella is confused, sullen, and a pain in the ass. Same as it ever was.
As you may recall, Chapter 6 ended with a werewolf telling Bella that her hot frenemy is a vampire. She's having a hard time processing this information, naturally, and has a nightmare where Jacob turns into a wolf and attacks her and Edward comes to her rescue. Society can refine itself all it wants, but - and doubly so in the horror genre - sex will always equal death.
It also bears mentioning that there's a ridiculous sequence preceding Bella's dream where she tries to lose herself in music. Meyer doesn't tell us who the artist is, though, and doesn't even make one up, leading to sentences that are excruciating in their awkwardness.
The next day, Bella does some research on vampires, using the always reliable source The Internet. Frustrated by what she finds, she decides to go for a walk in the woods and... whatever.
I'm sorry, I don't feel like summarizing the rest of the chapter. It sucks. It really, really does.
Even people with no experience in creative writing has heard that it's better to show and not tell. Alas, Meyer is writing for a young audience using a first-person narrator, so all the reader gets is tell, tell, tell. The fact that Bella does all the telling makes it worse. Telling instead of showing isn't just the work of an unskilled author, it's also painfully boring. To make things worse, there are unbearable stretches where all of the sentences have "I" as the subject.
In summary, when Chapter 7 comes to a merciful end Bella is confused, sullen, and a pain in the ass. Same as it ever was.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 6
It's a brand new world for Twilight's sixth chapter: the beginnings of Team Jacob.
Bella and her loser friends go to La Push for the day. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me, since I've been itching to visit the Pacific Northwest for a few years now, but Meyer's description of the coastline isn't half bad - dare I say evocative.
The kids from Forks are soon joined by some young Quileutes from the nearby reservation. One of them is a boy named Jacob. As in, this is how Meyer introduces him: "All I caught was that one of the girls was also named Jessica, and the boy who noticed me was named Jacob." The second time she mentions him: "three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including the boy named Jacob." That's the thing about Meyer's oft-maligned writing, it's not bad per se, it just doesn't sound right. There's something oddly entertaining about the writing of ESL students; they know the language well enough but their sentences verge on idiosyncratic. Meyer's work, however, simply begs for an editor.
Jacob isn't a total dip like the rest of the Forks bunch and somehow manages to let Bella's good side shine for once. She even manages to joke around with him. Is it because he has an actual personality, or is it because he has "a very pretty face"? I'd say it's 50/50.
Unfortunately, Bella ruins everything by attempting to flirt with Jacob in an attempt to pry information about the Cullens out of him. Once again she constantly reminds us that it's "a stupid plan" that is "sure-to-be-pitiful" and that Edward does it better. It's as if she wants us to hate her.
The plan works, though. Jacob is apparently a sucker for a clumsy face so he gives her some info on the down-low about not only the Cullens but the Quileutes. Not only do tribal legends claim that the Cullens are vampires, they also state that the Quileutes descended from wolves, effectively making them werewolves - and the natural enemies of vampires. Not that Jacob would ever believe that. Those are just old ghost stories, right?
In a book saturated with stupidity, I have to grudgingly admit that turning a Native American tribe into a pack of werewolves is pretty ingenious, given that American cultural history has always (possibly apocryphally) painted Native Americans as being one with nature. But really, again with the werewolves vs vampires thing? Was ripping off Underworld too enticing to pass up? Maybe I'm just not as in touch with current trends as the kids are these days but it's always seemed like a half-baked rivalry concocted just to put two mythical creatures in opposition with each other. Guess I should start writing that spec script about Frankensteins vs mummies.
Bella and her loser friends go to La Push for the day. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me, since I've been itching to visit the Pacific Northwest for a few years now, but Meyer's description of the coastline isn't half bad - dare I say evocative.
The kids from Forks are soon joined by some young Quileutes from the nearby reservation. One of them is a boy named Jacob. As in, this is how Meyer introduces him: "All I caught was that one of the girls was also named Jessica, and the boy who noticed me was named Jacob." The second time she mentions him: "three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including the boy named Jacob." That's the thing about Meyer's oft-maligned writing, it's not bad per se, it just doesn't sound right. There's something oddly entertaining about the writing of ESL students; they know the language well enough but their sentences verge on idiosyncratic. Meyer's work, however, simply begs for an editor.
Jacob isn't a total dip like the rest of the Forks bunch and somehow manages to let Bella's good side shine for once. She even manages to joke around with him. Is it because he has an actual personality, or is it because he has "a very pretty face"? I'd say it's 50/50.
Unfortunately, Bella ruins everything by attempting to flirt with Jacob in an attempt to pry information about the Cullens out of him. Once again she constantly reminds us that it's "a stupid plan" that is "sure-to-be-pitiful" and that Edward does it better. It's as if she wants us to hate her.
The plan works, though. Jacob is apparently a sucker for a clumsy face so he gives her some info on the down-low about not only the Cullens but the Quileutes. Not only do tribal legends claim that the Cullens are vampires, they also state that the Quileutes descended from wolves, effectively making them werewolves - and the natural enemies of vampires. Not that Jacob would ever believe that. Those are just old ghost stories, right?
In a book saturated with stupidity, I have to grudgingly admit that turning a Native American tribe into a pack of werewolves is pretty ingenious, given that American cultural history has always (possibly apocryphally) painted Native Americans as being one with nature. But really, again with the werewolves vs vampires thing? Was ripping off Underworld too enticing to pass up? Maybe I'm just not as in touch with current trends as the kids are these days but it's always seemed like a half-baked rivalry concocted just to put two mythical creatures in opposition with each other. Guess I should start writing that spec script about Frankensteins vs mummies.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 5
We open as Edward continues to mercilessly play mind games with Bella. This time, Captain Passive Aggressive invites Bella to sit with him during lunch, a big deal considering that Edward only sits with the rest of his family. There's also the fact that the most attractive man in human history is plucking little ol' Bella from the throngs of the great unwashed.
Edward is "giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." A breath of fresh air given how we've been saddled with our perpetually high-strung heroine. Edward and Bella engage in some banter about what kind of person he really is, and a recurring theme emerges: their deep conversations are mind-numbingly uninteresting. Edward plays everything close to the vest, what with the whole vampire thing and all. Bella is Bella. And thus we get two people perpetually dancing around a subject. Bella's theory about Edward is that he's a superhero, and she actually wants him to take her seriously.
Fortunately, lunch ends, saving the reader from more of this dreck. Time for Biology, except Edward is skipping class that day. Not because he's a rouge, but because they're doing blood tests in class. Bella, of course, gets woozy even at the mention of blood and has to be carted away to the nurse's office. She's intercepted by Edward on her way, however, and smooth talks everyone into letting him take Bella home so she can recover, forcing us to slog through more dialogue between the two.
It's here that we get another indication of Twilight's shoddy writing. Meyer can't be arsed to physically describe anyone other than Edward. The reader knows every last detail about his perfection, including minute-by-minute updates on the color of his eyes. Bella is something of a blank slate. Edward asks about Bella's mother as he drives her home, and she responds "she looks like me, but she's prettier." Compare this to Bella's initial description of her mother in the first chapter: "My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines." Keep in mind that this is the sixth paragraph in the novel and we have no idea at this point what Bella looks like. Unless you're indescribably gorgeous, you aren't worth describing at all.
Their chat in Edward's car is essentially a repeat of what they went over during lunch. Bella, Miss Congeniality as ever, says that she's the only adult in her family. Edward drops unsubtle hints that he's 100% evil. And so on.
As Edward bids her adieu at the end of the chapter, he asks her not to kill herself in a fit of clumsiness during her weekend trip to the beach. He's grinning; she snaps at him. Our soul mates, ladies and gentlemen.
Edward is "giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." A breath of fresh air given how we've been saddled with our perpetually high-strung heroine. Edward and Bella engage in some banter about what kind of person he really is, and a recurring theme emerges: their deep conversations are mind-numbingly uninteresting. Edward plays everything close to the vest, what with the whole vampire thing and all. Bella is Bella. And thus we get two people perpetually dancing around a subject. Bella's theory about Edward is that he's a superhero, and she actually wants him to take her seriously.
"Please just tell me one little theory." His eyes still smoldered at me. [ed: OH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME SOMETHING CANNOT SMOLDER AT SOMETHING ELSE.]That's Bella in a nutshell. Edward is playful, she's mopey and unimaginative. Even Meyer cant' stand the conversation, apparently, because she decides to pull out the stops with Edward. "What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?"
"Um, well, bitten by a radioactive spider?" Was he a hypnotist, too? Or was I just a hopeless pushover?
"That's not very creative," he scoffed.
"I'm sorry, that's all I've got," I said, miffed.
"You're not even close," he teased.
"No spiders?"
"Nope."
"And no radioactivity?"
"None."
"Dang," I sighed.
"Kryptonite doesn't bother me either," he chuckled.
"You're not supposed to laugh, remember?"
Fortunately, lunch ends, saving the reader from more of this dreck. Time for Biology, except Edward is skipping class that day. Not because he's a rouge, but because they're doing blood tests in class. Bella, of course, gets woozy even at the mention of blood and has to be carted away to the nurse's office. She's intercepted by Edward on her way, however, and smooth talks everyone into letting him take Bella home so she can recover, forcing us to slog through more dialogue between the two.
It's here that we get another indication of Twilight's shoddy writing. Meyer can't be arsed to physically describe anyone other than Edward. The reader knows every last detail about his perfection, including minute-by-minute updates on the color of his eyes. Bella is something of a blank slate. Edward asks about Bella's mother as he drives her home, and she responds "she looks like me, but she's prettier." Compare this to Bella's initial description of her mother in the first chapter: "My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines." Keep in mind that this is the sixth paragraph in the novel and we have no idea at this point what Bella looks like. Unless you're indescribably gorgeous, you aren't worth describing at all.
Their chat in Edward's car is essentially a repeat of what they went over during lunch. Bella, Miss Congeniality as ever, says that she's the only adult in her family. Edward drops unsubtle hints that he's 100% evil. And so on.
As Edward bids her adieu at the end of the chapter, he asks her not to kill herself in a fit of clumsiness during her weekend trip to the beach. He's grinning; she snaps at him. Our soul mates, ladies and gentlemen.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 4
I realize why I like Edward so much - he's totally messing with Bella.
Forks High School's Sadie Hawkins dance is coming up, and Bella gets asked out by two different guys. Yes, you heard that right. Despite being the clumsiest girl alive, guys can't stop thinking about her. Bella doesn't have much of an ego, though, so she's annoyed by all the attention. These wannabe Romeos are fairly pathetic, too, and I'd be tempted to sympathize with her if it hadn't already been established that her vagina was an exact replica of the Sarlaac from Return of the Jedi.
The fawning gets so bad that Bella decides to give a plausible excuse for dodging her suitors. She's been cooped up in a small town for so long, so she's due for a trip to Seattle the weekend of the dance.
There's one guy in the whole of Forks who isn't nipping at her heels, and that's Edward. He might have saved her life, but that doesn't mean they're besties. He gives her the silent treatment during Biology, breaking it later to tell her that "it's better if we're not friends." Bella is none too happy: "I'd heard that before," she thinks to herself, probably because she's used to saying it. Then Edward pulls a truly devious stunt after school, intentionally holding up traffic in the parking lot so a third guy can ask Bella to the girls' choice dance.
Even better: after he fesses up about his shenanigans, he offers Bella a ride to Seattle. His sports car gets better milage than her truck, and he was planning to head up there anyway, so why not be a gentleman. Bella's feeble mind can barely function at this point, since the hottest guy in human history is playing hard-to-get with her, but she manages to acquiesce. Oh, Edward, you cad.
Chapter 4 is a good opportunity to go meta for a second. Stephenie Meyer is frequently criticized for making Bella a Mary Sue. For those of you who are unfamiliar with fan fiction terminology (lucky bastards with social lives), a Mary Sue is an author surrogate who is suspiciously idealized/romanticized. Meyer is neither a stunner nor unattractive, but assuming that she went through one of those typical childhood awkward phases, why wouldn't she want to write a character who rejects every guy in school that asks her to a dance? More to follow, I'm sure.
Forks High School's Sadie Hawkins dance is coming up, and Bella gets asked out by two different guys. Yes, you heard that right. Despite being the clumsiest girl alive, guys can't stop thinking about her. Bella doesn't have much of an ego, though, so she's annoyed by all the attention. These wannabe Romeos are fairly pathetic, too, and I'd be tempted to sympathize with her if it hadn't already been established that her vagina was an exact replica of the Sarlaac from Return of the Jedi.
The fawning gets so bad that Bella decides to give a plausible excuse for dodging her suitors. She's been cooped up in a small town for so long, so she's due for a trip to Seattle the weekend of the dance.
There's one guy in the whole of Forks who isn't nipping at her heels, and that's Edward. He might have saved her life, but that doesn't mean they're besties. He gives her the silent treatment during Biology, breaking it later to tell her that "it's better if we're not friends." Bella is none too happy: "I'd heard that before," she thinks to herself, probably because she's used to saying it. Then Edward pulls a truly devious stunt after school, intentionally holding up traffic in the parking lot so a third guy can ask Bella to the girls' choice dance.
Even better: after he fesses up about his shenanigans, he offers Bella a ride to Seattle. His sports car gets better milage than her truck, and he was planning to head up there anyway, so why not be a gentleman. Bella's feeble mind can barely function at this point, since the hottest guy in human history is playing hard-to-get with her, but she manages to acquiesce. Oh, Edward, you cad.
Chapter 4 is a good opportunity to go meta for a second. Stephenie Meyer is frequently criticized for making Bella a Mary Sue. For those of you who are unfamiliar with fan fiction terminology (lucky bastards with social lives), a Mary Sue is an author surrogate who is suspiciously idealized/romanticized. Meyer is neither a stunner nor unattractive, but assuming that she went through one of those typical childhood awkward phases, why wouldn't she want to write a character who rejects every guy in school that asks her to a dance? More to follow, I'm sure.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Top Chef Las Vegas 11/11
First, let me acknowledge how stupid and useless last week's Top Chef reunion dinner was.
And now for this week's episode. Two words: Nigella Lawson. It's a good thing Toby was judging this week and not Gail, because if you put her and Nigella in the same room there'd be a souffle rising in my pants (HEY-O!). I'd never even heard of Nigella before this week.
(Googles her to check her credentials)
(notices that "Nigella Lawson breasts" is the second thing that comes up on Google's auto fill-in feature)
(no, I didn't select that option)
(discovers pictures on Google Image Search)
Ho-leeeee shit.
She's Gorgeous McBaberson. AND she says that a pannacotta "should quiver like a 17th century courtesan's inner thigh." That's the hottest thing that's been said on television, like, ever.
I'm sorry. I lost focus. There was actual cooking on this show, and quite a bit of controversy in my mind, because I think that not only should Michael not have won, Robin should not have gone home.
Yeah, you heard me.
Let's backtrack a little. The gimmick of the elimination challenge was that the cheftestants were supposed to create a dish inspired by a randomly-chosen casino. Michael got New York, New York. Easy enough, right? New York City evokes so many images, feelings, and flavors, that of course he'd come up with... a chicken wing. Because that's what New York firefighters eat. Seriously, his words. Of course, it's how the dish tastes that really counts, and it very well could have been the tastiest one of the night. I still think he half-assed the concept. Kevin and Bryan made much better connections between their food and their respective casinos.
Incidentally, I cannot be the only person who thought Bryan was a goner once he bought that stuffed animal for his son. The editors, it seems, are wising up to what we look for.
Now let's move onto the bottom half. At first I thought Jennifer was destined to be PYKAG'd. Her steak was tough and the dish looked very dark brown and unappealing. After hearing the judges pillory Eli's dish, I thought he was a lock for being sent home. Toby's appraisal during the challenge indicated that Eli decided to go big or go home and although his dish was a failure they respected that he at least aspired for something. During judges table, however, he got brutalized. Fair enough, if it was a terrible dish it was a terrible dish. Robin, at first, appeared to turn in another classic Robin performance - unquestionably bad, but not the worst dish of the night. Like Eli, she reached for the stars got hit by a 747, but wasn't quite as bad as he was. She got the boot anyway.
We all knew that Robin's exit was weeks overdue. But I still think she got robbed. To hear the judges say it, Eli's dish was hands-down the worst of the night. But Robin is Robin, so away she goes. I'll be the first to admit that I'm crazy for defending her, but you can sense the producers' interference in the judging of this episode to a ridiculous extent. Maybe I'm in a contrarian mood because Michael got the win for a conceptually lazy dish.
Power rankings? Not anymore, folks. There are five very good chefs left. Eli's laid a few eggs, and Jennifer is nose-diving, but it's a strong bunch all things considered. Kevin and the Brothers V make it to the final cook-off, and you can put that in the bank.
And now for this week's episode. Two words: Nigella Lawson. It's a good thing Toby was judging this week and not Gail, because if you put her and Nigella in the same room there'd be a souffle rising in my pants (HEY-O!). I'd never even heard of Nigella before this week.
(Googles her to check her credentials)
(notices that "Nigella Lawson breasts" is the second thing that comes up on Google's auto fill-in feature)
(no, I didn't select that option)
(discovers pictures on Google Image Search)
Ho-leeeee shit.
She's Gorgeous McBaberson. AND she says that a pannacotta "should quiver like a 17th century courtesan's inner thigh." That's the hottest thing that's been said on television, like, ever.
I'm sorry. I lost focus. There was actual cooking on this show, and quite a bit of controversy in my mind, because I think that not only should Michael not have won, Robin should not have gone home.
Yeah, you heard me.
Let's backtrack a little. The gimmick of the elimination challenge was that the cheftestants were supposed to create a dish inspired by a randomly-chosen casino. Michael got New York, New York. Easy enough, right? New York City evokes so many images, feelings, and flavors, that of course he'd come up with... a chicken wing. Because that's what New York firefighters eat. Seriously, his words. Of course, it's how the dish tastes that really counts, and it very well could have been the tastiest one of the night. I still think he half-assed the concept. Kevin and Bryan made much better connections between their food and their respective casinos.
Incidentally, I cannot be the only person who thought Bryan was a goner once he bought that stuffed animal for his son. The editors, it seems, are wising up to what we look for.
Now let's move onto the bottom half. At first I thought Jennifer was destined to be PYKAG'd. Her steak was tough and the dish looked very dark brown and unappealing. After hearing the judges pillory Eli's dish, I thought he was a lock for being sent home. Toby's appraisal during the challenge indicated that Eli decided to go big or go home and although his dish was a failure they respected that he at least aspired for something. During judges table, however, he got brutalized. Fair enough, if it was a terrible dish it was a terrible dish. Robin, at first, appeared to turn in another classic Robin performance - unquestionably bad, but not the worst dish of the night. Like Eli, she reached for the stars got hit by a 747, but wasn't quite as bad as he was. She got the boot anyway.
We all knew that Robin's exit was weeks overdue. But I still think she got robbed. To hear the judges say it, Eli's dish was hands-down the worst of the night. But Robin is Robin, so away she goes. I'll be the first to admit that I'm crazy for defending her, but you can sense the producers' interference in the judging of this episode to a ridiculous extent. Maybe I'm in a contrarian mood because Michael got the win for a conceptually lazy dish.
Power rankings? Not anymore, folks. There are five very good chefs left. Eli's laid a few eggs, and Jennifer is nose-diving, but it's a strong bunch all things considered. Kevin and the Brothers V make it to the final cook-off, and you can put that in the bank.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Wait, what?
Andy Cohen is openly gay?
I'm no gayologist. My gaydar is fully functional, yet occasionally spotty.
It's a proven fact that Mr. Cohen is a douchebag. Up to this moment, I had been convinced that every douchebag in the history of douchebags had been straight. In fact, it's almost a prerequisite - see the following video for proof:
So I pose this question to you, dear reader: with the exception of Andy Cohen, is it impossible for a gay man to be a douchebag?
I'm no gayologist. My gaydar is fully functional, yet occasionally spotty.
It's a proven fact that Mr. Cohen is a douchebag. Up to this moment, I had been convinced that every douchebag in the history of douchebags had been straight. In fact, it's almost a prerequisite - see the following video for proof:
So I pose this question to you, dear reader: with the exception of Andy Cohen, is it impossible for a gay man to be a douchebag?
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapters 2-3
The Bella Swan Queen Bitch Tour picks up right where it left off, as our fair lady writes emails to her hysterical mother, shops for groceries, and cooks dinner because she's the only capable member of the family. Edward, on the other hand, is nowhere to be seen for several days.
Then comes the first snow of the season, and it soon becomes fairly obvious that Stephenie Meyer has never seen snow in her life because a class period's worth of flurries is evidently enough to form snowballs. Plans are made for an epic snowball fight (nobody at this high school has matured past kindergarten, apparently) but soon abandoned once the temperature rises and the snow is washed away by the rain. I live in Chicago. I know snow. SNOW DOES NOT WORK THIS WAY.
Fortunately, this completely useless diversion coincides with Edward's return to school. To Bella's surprise, he's much friendlier to her during Biology. He's even as smart as she is, and she took an advanced science class back home in Phoenix because she's better than everybody else. And here's the real kicker - I kind of like Edward. Granted, anyone would come off like Jimmy Stewart after having to put up with Bella. But Edward is perceptive, in control during any situation, thoughtful, and well-mannered. I don't know how Robert Pattinson plays the scene in the movie, since he usually comes off as Gloomy McBrooderson, but Edward as written is one suave guy.
I'd like him a lot more if it wasn't constantly smashed into my skull that's he's so damn perfect. It's not enough that he looks like a model. Every physical thing about him is flawless. It would be enough for most attractive male specimens to have a perfect face, but Edward has a perfect smile - oh why the hell not, let's make his teeth perfect too. Curt Hening wasn't this perfect.
It's especially clear that Edward has warmed on Bella when he saves her from being hit by a van in the school parking lot, despite being nowhere near her when it barrels toward her. And his body makes a dent in it but he's not hurt. And he lifts the van up to keep it from hitting Bella. Of course he denies that anything out of the ordinary happened, insisting he was next to her the entire time.
But even when Bella's mind is consumed with suspicion it's not enough to raise the temperature of her heart past absolute zero. That guy who almost killed her keeps on profusely apologizing - what a dweeb. All of her friends that she doesn't give two shits about are in the hospital waiting room because they're so lame. That neck brace looks awkward on her, so she takes it off. And did her father really have to tell her mom that she almost died? Totally embarrassing!
We end the third chapter with Bella taking a few Tylenol to soothe her injuries. Unfortunately, instead of grabbing ten more and washing them down with a fifth of Jack, she goes to sleep and dreams of Edward. Drat.
Then comes the first snow of the season, and it soon becomes fairly obvious that Stephenie Meyer has never seen snow in her life because a class period's worth of flurries is evidently enough to form snowballs. Plans are made for an epic snowball fight (nobody at this high school has matured past kindergarten, apparently) but soon abandoned once the temperature rises and the snow is washed away by the rain. I live in Chicago. I know snow. SNOW DOES NOT WORK THIS WAY.
Fortunately, this completely useless diversion coincides with Edward's return to school. To Bella's surprise, he's much friendlier to her during Biology. He's even as smart as she is, and she took an advanced science class back home in Phoenix because she's better than everybody else. And here's the real kicker - I kind of like Edward. Granted, anyone would come off like Jimmy Stewart after having to put up with Bella. But Edward is perceptive, in control during any situation, thoughtful, and well-mannered. I don't know how Robert Pattinson plays the scene in the movie, since he usually comes off as Gloomy McBrooderson, but Edward as written is one suave guy.
I'd like him a lot more if it wasn't constantly smashed into my skull that's he's so damn perfect. It's not enough that he looks like a model. Every physical thing about him is flawless. It would be enough for most attractive male specimens to have a perfect face, but Edward has a perfect smile - oh why the hell not, let's make his teeth perfect too. Curt Hening wasn't this perfect.
It's especially clear that Edward has warmed on Bella when he saves her from being hit by a van in the school parking lot, despite being nowhere near her when it barrels toward her. And his body makes a dent in it but he's not hurt. And he lifts the van up to keep it from hitting Bella. Of course he denies that anything out of the ordinary happened, insisting he was next to her the entire time.
But even when Bella's mind is consumed with suspicion it's not enough to raise the temperature of her heart past absolute zero. That guy who almost killed her keeps on profusely apologizing - what a dweeb. All of her friends that she doesn't give two shits about are in the hospital waiting room because they're so lame. That neck brace looks awkward on her, so she takes it off. And did her father really have to tell her mom that she almost died? Totally embarrassing!
We end the third chapter with Bella taking a few Tylenol to soothe her injuries. Unfortunately, instead of grabbing ten more and washing them down with a fifth of Jack, she goes to sleep and dreams of Edward. Drat.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter One
Bella Swan is a bitch.
She's our heroine, our narrator, our emotional core in a world of vampires, and I hated her by page 7.
Maybe I don't do well with irascible youngsters as the first-person narrator - when I read Catcher in the Rye in high school I wanted to punch Holden Caulfield in the face. But Bella's problems are much lesser than a world full of phonies. Her parents divorced when she was young, and after living in Phoenix with her mother (who is "scatterbrained") during her formative years, she's spending high school tenure with her father in gloomy Forks, WA (Bella's "personal hell on Earth"). Charlie's not a bad guy, though. Sure, her new ride is an decades-old pickup truck, but he got it for her as a welcome home present. Whatcha think, Bella?
"Wow. Free."
Oh, you cunt.
So she warms on the car later. She's young, she's from a broken home, maybe she'll turn out okay eventually. Then comes the first day of school. Having been there myself, I can say that the first day at a new school sucks. It's the definition of awkward. You do your best to find some allies in the other new kids and hope that everything turns out for the best. It's even worse in a small town like Forks, where everybody knows everybody and a newcomer sticks out like a sore thumb. All eyes are on her, although in Bella's mind it's not just because she's the new girl; she's clearly superior to the small town hicks. She's desperate not to stand out, but everyone gravitates towards her nonetheless. She gets the syllabus for her English class and she's read it all before. Twice she associates bravery with those who attempt to talk to her. Girls try to befriend her but she can't remember their names. As far as the eligible bachelors of Forks go, the nerdy guy who tries to help her through her first day she labels "overly helpful." The more attractive one who helps her, however, is "the nicest person I'd met today." But then comes Edward.
He and his vampire buddies sit together at lunch, away from the great unwashed. Bella's instantly drawn to them - and why not? They're ridiculously attractive, well-dressed, and graceful. They're equally aloof, which doesn't fare well for Bella when the only free seat in her biology class is next to him. He looks like he wants to kill her the entire time, for reasons she can't fathom. When the bell rings, he bolts. "He was so mean. It wasn't fair." Poetic justice, it seems, is lost on her.
As far as first impressions of Stephenie Meyer's much bemoaned writing style, it's pretty clumsy in that easily accessible Dan Brown way but rarely terrible. It could be intentional; after all, the narrator is a teenage girl. So no demerits... yet.
She's our heroine, our narrator, our emotional core in a world of vampires, and I hated her by page 7.
Maybe I don't do well with irascible youngsters as the first-person narrator - when I read Catcher in the Rye in high school I wanted to punch Holden Caulfield in the face. But Bella's problems are much lesser than a world full of phonies. Her parents divorced when she was young, and after living in Phoenix with her mother (who is "scatterbrained") during her formative years, she's spending high school tenure with her father in gloomy Forks, WA (Bella's "personal hell on Earth"). Charlie's not a bad guy, though. Sure, her new ride is an decades-old pickup truck, but he got it for her as a welcome home present. Whatcha think, Bella?
"Wow. Free."
Oh, you cunt.
So she warms on the car later. She's young, she's from a broken home, maybe she'll turn out okay eventually. Then comes the first day of school. Having been there myself, I can say that the first day at a new school sucks. It's the definition of awkward. You do your best to find some allies in the other new kids and hope that everything turns out for the best. It's even worse in a small town like Forks, where everybody knows everybody and a newcomer sticks out like a sore thumb. All eyes are on her, although in Bella's mind it's not just because she's the new girl; she's clearly superior to the small town hicks. She's desperate not to stand out, but everyone gravitates towards her nonetheless. She gets the syllabus for her English class and she's read it all before. Twice she associates bravery with those who attempt to talk to her. Girls try to befriend her but she can't remember their names. As far as the eligible bachelors of Forks go, the nerdy guy who tries to help her through her first day she labels "overly helpful." The more attractive one who helps her, however, is "the nicest person I'd met today." But then comes Edward.
He and his vampire buddies sit together at lunch, away from the great unwashed. Bella's instantly drawn to them - and why not? They're ridiculously attractive, well-dressed, and graceful. They're equally aloof, which doesn't fare well for Bella when the only free seat in her biology class is next to him. He looks like he wants to kill her the entire time, for reasons she can't fathom. When the bell rings, he bolts. "He was so mean. It wasn't fair." Poetic justice, it seems, is lost on her.
As far as first impressions of Stephenie Meyer's much bemoaned writing style, it's pretty clumsy in that easily accessible Dan Brown way but rarely terrible. It could be intentional; after all, the narrator is a teenage girl. So no demerits... yet.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
It's on now: I'M BLOGGING TWILIGHT.
I don't watch that many horror movies. When I do, they tend to involve zombies. But if I had to pick a second favorite monster, it would be vampires.
When I was a kid, I caught a bit of Bram Stoker's Dracula on television. I can't remember exactly what about it hooked me, but watch the trailer and it's not hard to see how it draws you in. There's a chaotic energy to the camerawork and editing, and a sumptuousness in the costumes and art design that borders on erotic. The effects are straight-up old school. And every inch of it is dripping with sex.
Yes, sex. They might be undead and totally evil but there's something damn sexy about a well-dressed, smooth talking vampire. Martin Landau mentions as Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood that "If you want to make out with a young lady, take her to see Dracula." If you'd rather see a young lady make out with a young lady, there's always the lesbian vampire genre. Lesbian zombies? Not in a million years. But you can't have sex without violence, and vampire movies provide plenty of that, too. The vampire movie, it seems, is tailor made for the part of the male human brain that never evolved past "caveman." Or "high school freshman" for that matter.
So imagine my surprise when a year or two ago, a new kind of vampire takes America by storm. He doesn't feast upon our fragile, virginal women. He doesn't mow through victims, leaving a trail of demolished jugulars in his wake. He's not even European. He's a sparkly brooding pretty boy and he's stolen the hearts of tweens and lonely housewives everywhere.
Seriously?
Let's not be so reactionary, you say. Remember Interview with the Vampire? It's a who's who of beefcake. Not so fast, I counter. Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas are men's men. There is no "Team Lestat."
It would be easy to mock the Twilight series sight unseen, to write off its success as the product of an easily manipulated female fan base (their brains are smaller than men's, you know). God knows I've done that with enough of pop culture's drecks already. But the Twilight series is different. It's not a phenomenon on the level of Hannah Montana or High School Musical, it's an actual, honest-to-God phenomenon; the film adaptation of the first book was the 7th highest grossing film of 2008. It earned almost $200 million. That's more than any James Bond film.
I must know my enemy.
I must read Twilight.
When I was a kid, I caught a bit of Bram Stoker's Dracula on television. I can't remember exactly what about it hooked me, but watch the trailer and it's not hard to see how it draws you in. There's a chaotic energy to the camerawork and editing, and a sumptuousness in the costumes and art design that borders on erotic. The effects are straight-up old school. And every inch of it is dripping with sex.
Yes, sex. They might be undead and totally evil but there's something damn sexy about a well-dressed, smooth talking vampire. Martin Landau mentions as Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood that "If you want to make out with a young lady, take her to see Dracula." If you'd rather see a young lady make out with a young lady, there's always the lesbian vampire genre. Lesbian zombies? Not in a million years. But you can't have sex without violence, and vampire movies provide plenty of that, too. The vampire movie, it seems, is tailor made for the part of the male human brain that never evolved past "caveman." Or "high school freshman" for that matter.
So imagine my surprise when a year or two ago, a new kind of vampire takes America by storm. He doesn't feast upon our fragile, virginal women. He doesn't mow through victims, leaving a trail of demolished jugulars in his wake. He's not even European. He's a sparkly brooding pretty boy and he's stolen the hearts of tweens and lonely housewives everywhere.
Seriously?
Let's not be so reactionary, you say. Remember Interview with the Vampire? It's a who's who of beefcake. Not so fast, I counter. Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderas are men's men. There is no "Team Lestat."
It would be easy to mock the Twilight series sight unseen, to write off its success as the product of an easily manipulated female fan base (their brains are smaller than men's, you know). God knows I've done that with enough of pop culture's drecks already. But the Twilight series is different. It's not a phenomenon on the level of Hannah Montana or High School Musical, it's an actual, honest-to-God phenomenon; the film adaptation of the first book was the 7th highest grossing film of 2008. It earned almost $200 million. That's more than any James Bond film.
I must know my enemy.
I must read Twilight.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The case for: V
V is off to a way better start than Flash Forward, ABC's other new sci-fi ensemble show (and possible successor to Lost, so hopes the network) of the 2009 television season. However, that's 100% based off of the final 10 minutes.
The majority of V is spent introducing our main protagonists and antagonists of the series and setting up the plot. It's fairly rote stuff. The exposition isn't very compelling, mostly because this is a remake and even if it weren't, everyone and their brother knows that the aliens are obviously evil. I'm predisposed to like Elizabeth Mitchell's character and think Morena Baccarin is silkily creepy, thanks to their respective turns in Lost and Firefly. Everyone else, I couldn't be bothered to care about yet. Speaking of which, add in Alan Tudyk and this show is a television sci-fi fan's wet dream. I half expected Summer Glau to show up as Cameron and blow all the aliens away. Evil aliens are why we need killer robots, people!
Fortunately, shit gets real at the end. Those terrorist cells that our heroes were investigating? They're made up of aliens! And Wash is one of them! But that black dude who used to be involved with the conspiracy theorists is here to kick ass and save the day! And now Wash is dead! And that black guy is a good alien! It's crazy and slightly predictable but by golly it works.
So yes, my endorsement of V is strictly on its potential. But I was more involved in those final minutes than I was for three episodes of Flash Forward. It's worth a shot.
The majority of V is spent introducing our main protagonists and antagonists of the series and setting up the plot. It's fairly rote stuff. The exposition isn't very compelling, mostly because this is a remake and even if it weren't, everyone and their brother knows that the aliens are obviously evil. I'm predisposed to like Elizabeth Mitchell's character and think Morena Baccarin is silkily creepy, thanks to their respective turns in Lost and Firefly. Everyone else, I couldn't be bothered to care about yet. Speaking of which, add in Alan Tudyk and this show is a television sci-fi fan's wet dream. I half expected Summer Glau to show up as Cameron and blow all the aliens away. Evil aliens are why we need killer robots, people!
Fortunately, shit gets real at the end. Those terrorist cells that our heroes were investigating? They're made up of aliens! And Wash is one of them! But that black dude who used to be involved with the conspiracy theorists is here to kick ass and save the day! And now Wash is dead! And that black guy is a good alien! It's crazy and slightly predictable but by golly it works.
So yes, my endorsement of V is strictly on its potential. But I was more involved in those final minutes than I was for three episodes of Flash Forward. It's worth a shot.
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