Pop Rocks: Sell Me On New Moon
The buzz about New Moon, the second movie based on the Stephanie Meyer series, has been building since before the original left theaters. It's already sold the most advance tickets of any movie in history (beating Revenge of the Sith, the latest Harry Potter, and the original Twilight), and nearly every midnight screening is reportedly sold out.
Clearly I'm missing something.
At first I thought it might be an age thing. I'm an old(er) dude, and have therefore become even snottier about high school-themed entertainment than I was when I was a (snotty) teenager myself. But as reliable news sources inform me, older women are just as into Edward and Jacob and the gang as their kids. At least Miley Cyrus is on my side.
I like vampires. Sure, I've lamented their transformation from fearsome predator to emo doofus in this very blog, but I still appreciate the concept. From Nosferatu to Dracula to Christopher Lee to 'salem's Lot to Near Dark, I'm with you. Hell, I like werewolves too, and putting them in the same movie should be an easy win for me, if my affection for The Monster Squad and the first Underworld is any indication.
Or maybe I just have an affection for Kate Beckinsdale in leather.
And I've got nothing against Robert Pattinson or Kristen Stewart, either. I still maintain that Goblet of Fire is one of the best Harry Potter movies, and Pattinson's Cedric was a significant part of that. I've only seen Stewart in Zathura and Into the Wild, and she did a fine job in both. Even if Tracy (from the latter) sported much better hygiene than one might expect from a typical Slab City resident.
Certainly much of the problem stems from my general dislike of the genre. I'm usually able to find something of merit in just about any type of literature, but I just haven't been able to get into romance, especially if aimed at teens. Unless you count looking up the dirty parts in Princess Daisy when I was 13, that is.
Cinematical tells me why I should see it (mostly because there's a new director). Kevin Smith also has reasons -- although his assertion that encouraging 12-year-olds to get into horror so we horror fans can have a better shot at banging them when they turn 18 scores a solid "9" on the Kevin Smith Sexual Immaturity Scale (right between Alyssa the on again/off again lesbian in Chasing Amy and the entire plot of Zack and Miri Make a Porno) -- but to hell with them. Twi-hards, or Light Loafers, whatever you call yourselves, make me a convert to your angsty sparkling ways.