Pixar and Me: A Toy Story Retrospective

Warning: this post contains spoilers for all three Toy Story films and some extremely emotional italics.

The first Toy Story film came out in the UK in 1996. I was 6 years old. Like a lot of six year old girls, I had more than a passing fondness for pink, princesses, Cinderella, ballerinas, that kind of thing.  I had a princess party for my sixth birthday, much to the joy of my male playmates.  When I tell people this now, it usually surprises them; as regular discerning readers may glean, I'm not so much one for romantic comedy, more one for spurious escapism powered by explosions.  So what happened?  The short answer is Toy Story.  Toy Story happened.

When my parents took me to see Toy Story, the excitement on their part was largely to do with this new form of animation, which was – gasp – done on a computer.  Maybe some of this excitement rubbed off on me because, so far as I remember, I was rather keen to see this funny-looking film, despite obvious lack of castles, dresses, oppressive patriarchy etc.  By the time the credits rolled, I don’t think I or either of my parents were even considering the artistic and technological advances in animation because oh my god Toy Story was the best thing we had ever seen.  To this day, the trilogy tops every list of favourite films I make: nostalgia value, artistic merit, tight writing, aesthetics, storytelling, voice acting, it's got it all.  You can keep Citizen Kane.  I've got Toy Story.

But my relationship with Toy Story goes beyond artistic appreciation. It had a huge influence over my development as a person: from the moment Woody and pals did their jerky early-CGI swagger into my life, princesses were discarded.  I was going to be a cowboy.  I then quickly amended this ambition to cowgirl.  Toy Story woke in me some dormant tomboy gene, a desire for adventure and thrills: it was the start of a whole new way of being that was very different to the narratives that Cinderella was feeding me.  There's nothing wrong with being a girly-girl, of course, but there aren't nearly as many good stories involved.  If all your fairytales end with a handsome prince, you're getting a very limited worldview to say the least.  Toy Story led to me devouring Treasure Island, Tom Sawyer, Pippi Longstocking, Roald Dahl and, not much later, Harry Potter in a way I wouldn’t have done before.  Fairytales were swapped for Greek myths: so much bolder and brighter, with gods and monsters and heroes and people doing things.  Suddenly, there were more colours in the world than pink.

You know the montage in the first film where all of Andy's cowboy stuff turns into Buzz Lightyear stuff?  That happened to me.  Discarded was my faithful Snow White costume and in came a swanky new Woody outfit, complete with sheriff badge and hat.  The plastic orgy of Barbies in various states of hard, shiny undress were converted from dress-up toys into complex societies of doctors, superheroes, witches, singers and actors with more back-stabbing, secret alliances and political manoeuvring than a Game of Thrones episode (though probably about as much nudity, I had been gifted a lot of second-hand Barbies but not many clothes to cover their dubious modesty).  The cherry on the cake of all this was my own Woody doll - much chunkier than the film's lanky rag doll, but I wrote my name on his boot nonetheless - and a shiny silver special edition Buzz.  I'll never forget the horror of a friend's younger sibling asking to borrow Woody and the reproving look on my mother's face as I turned my beseeching eyes towards her.  Woody came back minus his hat and with his pull string broken.  They bought me a new one that played guitar but it wasn't the same.  Woody as I knew and loved him was gone and it probably wouldn't have happened if I hadn't done what my mother told me.  Goddamit, mum.  It was a dark chapter in my history and if you think I'm joking, only a little.*  I suppose the long and the short of it is that Toy Story taught me how to play. 

I turned 22 on Sunday.  For my birthday present to myself, I sat down with a close friend and a lot of pizza and watched Toy Story 3.  Before I address the film itself, I'll just say this: even at this age, it is my 7-year-old self that enjoys car chases, heists, prison breaks, explosions and shoot outs.  When I reviewed The Avengers, what I could not show you was my facial expression, which was one of pure childlike glee.  Toy Story's influence lives on also in my sense of humour: silliness, snarkiness and surrealism living comfortably side by side.  Buzz proclaiming, "Don't you get it?! I am MRS NESBITT" will never, ever not be funny to me.  We love talking about how Pixar invented the kids-films-secretly-for-adults genre, although as I get older I'm not even sure they're for kids at all.  I was severely disappointed in Finding Nemo when I first saw it at the age of 13, but as (more of) an adult the scene where Nemo turns around and tells his Dad, "I hate you" is extremely powerful.  Witness also the separation and reunion aspects of Monsters Inc, the bleak yet hopeful view of humanity envisioned in Wall-E, the obligatory mention of the first ten minutes of Up: I don't think Pixar is making kid's films at all, not even secretly-for-parents-kid's-films.  I think Pixar is making films to please itself and by god, I salute them.  Except for Cars.  Cars was a bit shit.

No matter what else it produces, though, the Toy Story Trilogy in its entirety is always going to be the pinnacle of achievement for Pixar.  For me personally, it holds a cachet shared only by one other series - Harry Potter (the books, obviously) - of having grown up as I have grown up.  Both series place strong emphases on friendship, courage and resourcefulness, both are funny and wildly imaginative.  I spent a lot of my teenage years emulating the dress and mannerisms of various fictional characters (Winona Ryder in Beatlejuice, take a bow) in the fruitless quest for self-identity that is adolescence but there's probably only one fictional character I've ever really wanted to be, and though I've put away my lassoo-skipping-rope now, I still hold that if I can be something like Woody - wisecracking, courageous, loyal, a leader, flawed but ultimately good – I could do alright.  In fact, much of the first film is driven by Woody's flaws; on my recent re-watch I was kind of surprised to discover how much of a jerk he is, so I guess Toy Story is also responsible for starting my worrying tendency to become a furious apologist for anti-social fictional men.  And on the topic of changing perspectives, when I was a kid it was Woody's fears of rejection and replacement that I related to - playground politics can be so cruel - but as an adult, Jesus Christ, is there anything sadder than watching Buzz's heroic breakdown when he realises he's not a real space ranger?  With the sad song and the window and the no! I will fly! moment?  And because Hollywood teaches us that if you really really want something and are an attractive twentysomething or an adorable cartoon character you can definitely always get it, we believe he's going to fly and then he doesn't?  And he loses his arm for trying? Blimey, Pixar, you ever think about pulling your punches a little?

And, of course, the films only get progressively darker and more spiritually wounding as they go on.  Most conceptual universes don't tend to examine the ins and out of the realities they create, but Toy Story 2 took the difficult questions of toy ownership - and sentient toys - and ran with it.  What happens when the kids start to grow up?  There's only really a few exits for toys from the playroom: donation, the attic or, most likely, in a bin bag.  The bottom line is that kids grow up and move on.  Toy Story 2 was one for the parents in this respect: the feelings of abandonment and rejection that Woody and Jessie experience are a poignant analogue for the knowledge that every parent faces - one day they too will appear "used" and "outgrown" to their children.  But the final message is redemptive: we cannot stop ourselves or our children from growing up but we can enjoy it while it lasts.  And if we are loved, truly loved with the special bond that Andy and Emily shared with their toys, that love can sustain us when the relationship is no longer as immediate or dependent as it once was.  And it's probably no accident that the weepy Sarah McLachlan ballad that plays over the heartbreaking montage of Jessie's abandonment by her owner also borrows heavily from the semantics of a romantic relationship ending.  Far from the usual Disney fare, in which walking off into the sunset is par for the course, the second lesson Pixar taught me with the Toy Story trilogy was that relationships ending is a fact of life, but it doesn't have to be the end of the world.  The final note is bittersweet, a relative first for children's entertainment, with Woody proclaiming that Andy's childhood "won't last forever" but "I wouldn't miss a moment of it".  Of course, then Toy Story 3 took those themes and turned them into a harrowing emotional black hole from which I barely managed to escape with my battered soul intact.

I never doubted that Toy Story 3 was going to be good.  It was simply far too important to fail, not just to me but to the thousands of kids in my age bracket who were now packing up their bedrooms to head off into the unknown.  Like that other fictional boy I grew up alongside, Harry Potter, Andy was now my age, or thereabouts, and now here was Pixar, showing us that we had not been forgotten, that they were here to close the final chapter on our childhoods.  I'm pretty certain I wasn't alone in practically pushing small children out of the way to get to the front of queue because goddammit eight-year-olds, you have no idea what this means.  I also spent a fair few minutes in conversation with the girl at the desk trying to sell me Odeon membership.  After some rapid and confusing exchanges about how much money I would be saving, I wailed in a loud and plaintive tone that sent heads turning across the foyer, "I JUST WANT TO SEE TOY STORY 3."  So to say I cried might be an understatement - from the opening sequence, taken word for word from the first two films, to the last half hour solid, I was pretty much a mess.

When I re-watched it yesterday, sufficient time had passed that I could also appreciate how breathtakingly well made it is.  The animation had progressed astoundingly compared to the original 1995 film; Pixar has always been shy about animating humans unless cartoonishly stylised first (Ratatouille, The Incredibles) but they seem to have conquered Uncanny Valley (explained in this post) with a vengeance because holy crap, look at all those emotions!  Look at grown-up Andy playing with Bonnie!  Look at Andy's mum tearing up in his empty bedroom!  Look at all these people.  The textures and tones were richer, the lighting beautifully rendered: eerie and flickering strip bulbs, sunlight through leaves, rainstorms, every single piece of debris in the furnace glowing and casting individual shadows.  It's a beautifully designed film.  It's also gleefully funny.  Just when one is ready to condemn the Americans for lack of wit, they go and pull something like Spanish Buzz which was, without a doubt, one of the best things on celluloid this side of the millennium, and probably the other as well.  The level of nuance in it is far greater than I'd appreciated: I'd thought the real emotional heft was contained to the last half hour but my friend and I were brushing away stray tears from the first act as the toys make one last ditch attempt to reconnect with Andy and fail resoundingly.  Even the only thing that I actively disliked about the film - the absence of Bo Peep - wasn't something I could fault artistically since it established that the years really hadn't been kind to our gang (but seriously guys, did you have to make the look on Woody's face when he said Bo was gone so painful?  and did you have to not even say what happened to her so maybe she wasn't even given away, maybe she got broken or something?  Stop fucking with my essential sense of narrative justice).  The film juggles genres with a nonchalance that Joss Whedon (a writer on the first film, by the way) has wet dreams about.  First it's an adventure flick, then that's a dream sequence, that it's all farewells and gritty emotional drama, then it turns into an eerie dystopia, then it's a prison break film with Mission Impossible overtones, then we reach the last half hour and holy fuck every known reference point for film goes out the window because I'm crying like a housewife with a bottle of gin and a DVD of Beaches.

I am willing to admit that, like every other person in that cinema, I truly believed they were going into that furnace.  Even if you said afterwards you knew all along they were going to be fine, you're lying because a tiny part of you deep down was preparing to say goodbye to these characters forever.  Which is then exactly what we had to do ten minutes later.  God fucking dammit, Pixar, how dare you have such puppet-master-like control over my heartstrings?  How dare you?  And do you know why it worked?  Because having the toys melt into bubbling plastic globs would have been easier.  It would have been the cheap emotionally manipulative ending that we're so used to seeing Hollywood pull.  No, forcing us to confront the terrible, bleak, mentally-scarring reality - that we'd always have memories of childhood but we weren't allowed to be children anymore, that it was someone else's turn to be a child - that is so much crueller.  Damn you, Lasseter.  Damn you, Pixar.  Damn you all to the special hell.

So maybe what sets Toy Story 3 apart as a film, that cements the trilogy's place in my heart, is that it's neither for children nor for adults: it's for us, those in-betweeny, hard to place 'young adults' who grew up with the original films.  That doesn't mean no-one else can enjoy it - my mum walked in on the last ten minutes and started crying immediately - but it is for us.  For which one can only say, along with Andy, thanks guys.  You're all really special but I have to go away now.  And if we're really lucky, we get to see someone else enjoying the thing that we once enjoyed, and if we're really really lucky then we get to see them loving it, and that love doesn't fade or lessen even if time is against us in all other respects.

Blimey.  Batman Batman Batman.  That's better.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to stockpile some tissues and go watch Wall-E.


*EDIT: Since posting this, my mother has informed me that I wasn't actually there when the request came for temporary possession of my Woody doll, so I can only assume that what I'm remembering is outrage as only a seven-year-old can be outraged, along with a seven-year-old's morality which disregards things like kindness and common courtesy because everyone else should just stay away from my toys.  I'd also like to point out that I've neglected to mention that Toy Story was a hugely important series not just to me but my whole family - say "Mrs Nesbitt" to any member of my family and they'll laugh.  Or cry.  Damn, I think I'm starting again.

The Twilight Experiment: Part 3 - Eclipse

So after last time's downer of an instalment, the saga continues with Eclipse and, boy, was this an adventure in screaming silently for 90 minutes. Word on the supernatural grapevine is that they tried to make Eclipse a decent film with realistic dialogue and sensitive cinematography and moral complexity. All I'll say is that it's lucky somebody told me because I sure as fuck didn't get any of that from the actual movie. I mean, this is just horrible. I really suffered for this one. Really. You can thank me later.

Enjoy.

The Twilight Experiment: Part 3 – Eclipse

Much to my delight, we open with news of a serial killer on the loose in Forks. By this point, the Edward-has-a-fridge-for-the-bodies-of-young-women jokes are really just writing themselves, so just pretend I said something about that here, okay? But no, apparently this is an actual serial killer. Btdubs, this is, like, the third time Meyer has used the plot device of a mysterious threat that definitely isn't a vampire turning up corpses that we never get to see because that might actually be cool. At least in New Moon, we briefly thought the werewolves might have done it. (Yeah, I forgot to say because I was talking about Jacob's abs. Sue me.) Except they didn't because werewolves are rad and, as always, it is the vampires who both metaphorically and literally suck.

The serial killer stuff doesn't last, obviously, because there are conversations about marriage between a teenage girl and her 80-year-old lover to be had. I am initially surprised because Bella acts like she almost has a mind of her own for all of 30 seconds. Edward proposes again, she says no. I can only assume that whatever judgement-altering narcotics Edward has her under are starting to wear off. Presumably they are the same narcotics that Tom Cruise uses for Katie Holmes. Oh snap. Scientology burn.

Anyway, Bella then provides her flawless reasoning for not wanting to get married: 1 out of 3 marriages end in divorce. Wait, what? Bella, honey, there are plenty of reasons why you shouldn't marry Edward. I have them prepared in thirty-one page document. Colour-coded. With footnotes. This, however, is not one of them given that you literally want to spend eternity with him anyway. Eddie says he'll vampify her if she marries him. Okay, that's win-win, right? That's what she wants. No, that's coercion, she says. Honey. Much as I appreciate your attempts at becoming more than just a mindless dummy strapped to Edward's groin, coercion is what he's been doing to you for the past two films. This – and it so pains me to agree with Edward – is a compromise. Ugh. I hate you both.

Then we get a scene with Charlie, who I like more and more, because he doesn't like Edward and he does like Jacob. In fact, he likes Jacob so much that he ungrounds Bella so she can go see him. Yay! Jacob! Will Jacob be in this more? Soon? Yay! Jacob, however, does not pick up the phone so Bella straps herself into her truck to go find him. It doesn't start. Then she hears a thud on the roof. At last! Classic horror movie territory! And sure enough, BAM! Pale, overly-intense male with countless social disorders sitting in the passenger seat, asking in the husky tones of one who walks a fine line between sanity and throat-ripping if she was about to go and see her only other friend in the whole entire world.

Run, Bella. Run.

But she can't, because Edward disabled the engine. He explains that the werewolves are super dangerous and he has to protect – NO WAIT BACK THE FUCK UP. He disabled her truck? This is the tragic story, ladies and gentleman, of a promising young woman, her induction into a cult and eventual murder at the hands of her sociopath, abusive, controlling boyfriend. This. Is not. A love story.

On a side note, what is all this about the werewolves having no control? Since when? So there was the (rad) werewolf fight between Jacob and Paul (Paul the Werewolf. Really.) that I also kind of skipped over in New Moon because, hey, Jacob took his shirt off and it has been scientifically proven that neither man nor woman can retain basic cerebral functions when Jacob Black's shirt hits the floor. As I recall, Jacob leapt wolfishly to Bella's defence, preventing her from being flattened by an oncoming werewolf. Also he turned into a wolf in mid air, which was by far cooler than anything Edward has ever done. But still, they keep having all these conversations about how Jake could lose control and hurt Bella. We know that Edward apparently finds it a constant effort to resist Bella's super-delicious blood (probably it tastes like strawberries or that amazing sauce from the chinese restaurant round the corner from my house), but we also know that Edward, amongst his many other faults, is a hypocrite. We've seen him flip out when they were getting down with it (even if I do suspect it was more to cover up the fact that Edward is a colossal virgin). And Jasper's freak-out because of a paper cut made the Cullens move away (look, there was a lot of New Moon I neglected to mention). Not to mention every new vamp we come across seems to feel the need to dedicate their unlives to ripping Bella's head off, but that could just be a natural reaction. But werewolves? Nope. Apart from Paul the Werewolf, they have done precisely nothing to indicate that they could be threat to her. Vampire Threats: 70 billion and 2. Werewolf Threats: 1.

Bella goes to visit her mum, which is nice because her mum treats Bella like an 18 year old girl and not a toddler made of porcelain like a certain pouty sparkling someone I could mention. She also does a v good job of explaining why becoming a vampire is a bad idea. Actually, let's just take a moment to think about this: our main character actually wants to become a vampire. I'm confused. Maybe I'm thinking too much along the lines of traditional horror movie tropes, but aren't we always tying to, y'know, avoid becoming vampires? Isn't humanity always better, in the end? The sun on your skin, the taste of food, body temperature above zero? That kind of thing? What kind of effed-up mind wants a girl at the beginning of her life to freeze herself forever in time, locked in an eternity of attending high school with her high school boyfriend, incapable of having children or grandchildren, unable to get a job because she'll always be an unqualified 18-year-old, unable ever to see the only good friend she's ever had, cut off from her parents and loved ones because they think she's dead? Who would want to portray that as a good thing? Oh hi, Stephanie Meyer.

Ah. I've just found this, from the lady herself, on her website:

“I am not anti-female, I am anti-human. I wrote this story from the perspective of a female human because that came most naturally, as you might imagine. But if the narrator had been a male human, it would not have changed the events. When a human being is totally surrounded by creatures with supernatural strength, speed, senses, and various other uncanny powers, he or she is not going to be able to hold his or her own. Sorry. That's just the way it is. We can't all be slayers. Bella does pretty well I think, all things considered.”

Leaving aside the hilarious unintentional truth of the first sentence and the deluded falsehood of the last, this makes a lot of sense about Meyer. She's dreamed up this race of special, shiny, super-powered beings that no human can compete with; how terribly, terribly sad. Genuinely, I am sad for her that she has so little love for humanity. Humanity has a nuance to it that no monster we've ever come up with can beat – probably because monstrosity is always a distorted reflection of an aspect of ourselves. Even if your vampires are beautiful, strong, fast, immortal, can read minds, they just aren't...human. Can you imagine a vampire – especially ones as uptight and po-faced as the Cullens – on a bouncy castle? Failing a test? Getting dirt under their fingernails? No, because vampires exist in fiction to say uncomfortable things about who we are at night, in the dark – who we don't want to be. It's not a life we're meant to choose – at the end of Dracula, Jonathan Harker offers to become a vampire to keep his wife Mina company in eternity, even though it will cost him his soul and probably his sanity, and it registers as a sacrifice. Giving up your humanity is meant to be a sacrifice.

Besides, this fundamental misunderstanding of what monster fiction is for reveals how little understanding Meyer has of how to tell a story. In science-fiction, when the heroes are outnumbered by aliens with superior technology and numbers, do they shrug and go, “Yeah, you're right. We can't really compete with you guys.”? Does Buffy put down her stakes and go, “Y'know, I guess it would be better if the whole world was converted into immortal blood-suckers.”? Nope. Because that would make terrible drama. There's no conflict in shrugging and giving in. Sometimes, if you want a good story, you just have to fight. Besides, having your teenage everywoman, so bland that the average tween girl can easily insert herself into her place, turn around and talk about how much being 'normal' and 'human' sucks and she wants to upgrade to sparkly super-powered vampdom? And then actually letting her do that (uh, yeah, spoilers, I guess)? Houston, we have a problem. It's a horribly backfiring moral.

Yeah. Anyway. Back to the movie.

So the Cullens are chasing Victoria or something. Seriously? She is not a good enough villain for this to be her third movie. Also, I know I didn't mention in my New Moon review (like most of the film, then) but she really didn't even need to be in it at all.

And 18 and a half minutes in – it's Jacob! Yaaaaay! Edward asks Bella to stay in the car. She gets out. Yaaaay! Jacob is in the rain. Yaaaay! Jacob tells off Edward for lying to Bella and keeping information from her that concerns her. Yaaaaay! Bella agrees with Jacob. Yaaaaaay! Bella wants to talk to Jacob and he brushes her off. Yaaaay! Bella leaves Edward to hop on the back of a motorcycle and ride off with him into the sunset while Jacob flips Edward the bird and they have sex. On the motorbike. Because werewolves are awesome. Yaaaaay! Ok, that's not what happens.

Instead, Jacob takes Bella to wherever it is the werewolves hang out. I cannot overstate how much I prefer the werewolves to the Cullens. They tease each other. They kid around. They don't hold grudges. They don't respond melodramatically to paper cuts. Paul (snigger), who tried to kill Bella in the last film, greets her with a shrug and a “hey”. We also meet Leah, a girl werewolf who is bitchy and moody and is mean to Bella so that means a) she probably fancies Jacob because who doesn't? And b) we aren't supposed to like her. Too bad, Meyer. She's a bitchy, moody girl werewolf who is mean to Bella. So. Kind of shot yourself in the foot there.

Bella and Jacob have a conversation about imprinting, which is the werewolf version of love at first sight. I don't like this, mainly because it makes cool werewolves sound like Edward. Anyway, Jacob hasn't imprinted on anyone yet. Spoiler alert: when he does, it's going to make us all very, very angry. Bella tells Jacob she's going to get vamped after graduation. Jacob responds with “not in a month, not before you've even lived” and “he's got his hooks in you so deep”. Are they even trying to present Edward as a good thing at this point?

Speaking of which, back at Bella's house, we get some super-creepy shots of someone fondling Bella's bedsheets and sniffing her clothes. Turns out to be some other vamp but we're clearly supposed to think it's Edward. Edward shows up and immediately realises someone's been in there because when he smells Bella's dirty laundry, he always folds it back up neat so she'll never know. The Cullens once again rally round to protect Bella because they have nothing better to do. Bella points out that, thanks, but she has her own personal werewolf bodyguard. Naturally, Eddie hates this but vamps and wolves form some kind of alliance because Bella is so super-special, her safety is a greater priority than keeping a thousands of years old peace treaty.

So there's some kind of weird (symbolic) hostage-exchange handover where Edward (symbolically) gives Bella to Jacob, who is (symbolically) half-naked. “Doesn't he own a shirt?”snipes Edward. Oh Eddie, does the wind own a shirt? Do the trees? Does the moon? Jacob Black is a force of nature. A thrill ride through the howling, visceral but oh-so-alive forest on a starlit night. Baby, you can't stop him 'cos those abs just won't quit.

Scuse me, I think I need a shower.

So Edward does the douchey I'm-kissing-my-girlfriend-in-front-of-you thing (for a guy that's 110 years old, he sure does know how to do a very good impression of a seventeen year old) and drives off to hunt while Jacob enfolds Bella in his huge, manly arms and takes her to a werewolf party. Werewolf party. Bella Swan, I hate you.

At the werewolf party, we get the backstory on the originals of Werewolves v Vamps: Supernatural Smackdown – a long time ago, some vamps attacked the tribe, so the tribe shapeshifted into big fuck-off wolves and tore them apart. Fair enough. Also, some broad stabbed herself to distract the last vamp in time for her husband to kill it. Right, but why did she need to stab herself in the heart? We saw in the flashback thing that her dead son was in her arms, I know it's callous but couldn't she have sliced him up a little? He only just died. Or if it does need to be living blood, again, why the heart? We saw earlier than a paper cut would do it. Actually, if the vamps been attacking the village, shouldn't there be blood everywhere anyway? Whatever. Werewolves are still cooler than vampires because the entire point of their existence is to defend innocents from vampires. So tell me again, why is Edward the good guy?

Oh look, plot! More killings. Emmet thinks they should go to Seattle and deliver a can of whoop-ass. And he's mean to Bella. I like Emmet. He's practically a werewolf.

There is an Edward/Bella scene so boring it's not worth reporting.

It's Jacob! Yaaaay! This scene reads like a checklist of good and bad things to say to your girlfriend:

• I'm in love with you and I want you to choose me – kind of clingy but fine, whatever.
• I know you feel something for me, you just won't admit it – ok, let's not start getting Nice Guy about this, Jake.
• I'm going to fight for you – ok, not a problem.
• You won't ever have to change yourself for me or say goodbye to anyone – GOOD! GOOD!
• He probably can't even kiss you without hurting you – YEP!
• Feel that? Flesh and blood and warmth – I'LL SAY!
• Let me force myself upon you in a kiss that you clearly don't want - WAIT, WHAT?

Ugh. It's like SMeyer realised that she'd accidentally written a completely likeable character who had much more going for him than her pasty charisma vacuum of a leading man and went “Well shit, this is a pickle. WHAT CAN I DO TO RUIN HIM?”

Oh Jacob. And we were getting on so well. Mind you, Bella then tries to punch him in the face (lady, violence doesn't make you a strong woman. It makes you unhinged) and fails hilariously.

Jacob drops her home and Edward gets all angry because Jake tried to kiss his girlfriend. I find this hilarious that he's getting uppity about Jake kissing her against her will (“next time, wait for her to say the words”) when he only knows about it because he's reading minds left, right and centre (I mean, presumably?). Hey, hey Eddie. Next time you sabotage her truck, wait for her to say the words. Or, um, how about sneaking into her room and watching her sleep? Wait for her to say the words. Or forbidding her from seeing her friends. Wait for her to say the words. This is a fun game.

Anyway, Eddie and Jake have a bit of a fight and neither cover themselves in glory because they act like Bella isn't even there. Despite myself, I wait for Bella to say “hey guys, I think I kind of get a say in this”. Nope. It is to dream.

Daddy Cullen patches her up and Emmet jokes about Bella's clumsiness. I like you Emmet. Then she says she punched a werewolf in the face. No, Bella. You tried to punch a werewolf in the face. You failed hilariously. Emmet says “badass” and Rosalie walks out in a huff and I like Emmet a little less and Rosalie a little more. Of course, we then get Rosalie's backstory because Bella feels the need to confront the one person in the whole universe who doesn't think she's super-special and sparkly. Turns out Rosalie doesn't hate Bella. She envies her. Jeeeez. Turns out Rosalie was vamped back in the 20s (maybe? the flashback looks like a low-budget Gatsby remake) when her fiance and his friends apparently raped her and then beat her up which, I must admit, is pretty hard-hitting for Twilight. Or it would be if we didn't get a nice sanitised version where no actual pain is shown. Daddy Cullen was passing by and decided to vampify her because she was dying. Fine but – why doesn't he do that for everyone? He's a doctor. He must see dying people every day. Does he vamp them too? Why settle on one random chick in the 20s? Isn't it kind of worrying that the only dying people he's vamped were attractive teenagers? Anyway, we then find out Rosalie murdered her attackers horribly while wearing her wedding dress, which is so stupid and cliched, I have to laugh. But basically, Rosalie is sad because she can't have babies. Yawn.

Somehow it turns out that the Volturi – or at least Dakota Fanning – are behind this. Or something? They're there anyway. This plot is weak and confusing. I feel sleepy. And hungry.

Bella graduates and once again, Best Frenemy Jessica reinforces the idea that being a human with your whole life ahead of you is pretty great. Bella manages to miss the point spectacularly. Jacob rocks up at the grad party, apologises, and says he was an ass (when does Edward ever apologise for his actions? Like, ever?) - and then Alice takes over Jacob-cockblocking duties with a convenient vision.

It turns out the Seattle vamps are an army of newborns (i.e. new vampires) that are deadlier than the regular kind, so vampires and werewolves must team up to learn how to fight them because there is a special way or something and I don't really care because VAMPIRE WEREWOLF TRAINING MONTAGE. For some reason, Jasper is fight master and we get to see the cullers attempting to take him down one by one. I like Emmett, so obviously he doesn't succeed. I don't like Alice, so obviously she does.

We then get Jasper's backstory, which is marginally cooler than Rosalie's. Apparently he was a Confederate soldier (rocking the cowboy hat, I must say) who was vampified by some wandering women of the night in scandalously diaphanous gowns to take charge of a – shocker – army of newborns. Then he meets Alice and becomes good. Did I mention I dislike Alice? She foresaw their relationship or some such bollocks. Why? Did he decide it? Cute. Fuck off, Alice.

Bella has a dream and works out that Victoria was behind this all along. Edward says Alice would have seen it in her visions but Bella says she's hiding behind the army and letting someone else make the decisions. Wait, what? In what world does that make sense? I get that Alice sees futures when people make decisions about stuff. But didn't Victoria need to make decisions to come up with that plan? And if she's letting someone else make decisions about her little operation, how is she in charge at all? What if they make the wrong decision? This is stupid. Twilight is stupid. Jacob hasn't been onscreen for nearly ten minutes and I hate everything.

There's some kind of convoluted plan to keep Bella safe by getting Jacob to carry her around because his wolf scent will cover her Bella scent but I'm not really listening because I'm laughing at the plot contrivances that get Bella, once again, up close and personal with naked Jacob. Edward obviously isn't happy but a) he can't walk around shirtless because everyone would feel sorry for him, and b) Jacob is more capable of keeping his girlfriend safe than he is. While carrying Bella through the woods, Jacob talks about their relationship again, casually dropping the bombshells that a) he can sense how Bella feels around him (he uses the word “nervous”, presumably because “supremely horny” would endanger the PG-13 certificate) and b) he let alpha-wolf Sam become the leader of the pack because he's just that cool. Jacob Black doesn't need a pack. He's a lone wolf. He wants to run free, wild, alone through deeper and darker landscapes, experiencing fierce and savage joys no mere human could ever comprehend, as the moonlight shines off his biceps and lights his torso with a nigh-on godlike glow.

I'm going to take another shower.

Also Jasper comes back to report the success of the plan, only now he has an inexplicably Texan accent. Giss huntin' newborns jest brings the old country floodin' back, dun't it? (I don't know, I'm from Wimbledon.) Alice shows up and blithely tells Bella that she's tricked her dad (who she calls by his first name) into basically leaving Edward and Bella alone together in the Cullen house. “You're welcome,” she winks. Alice Cullen: Super Pimp.

But, of course, our chaste teenage heroes, take the opportunity, AGAIN, to talk about their relationship. Jeez. There are so many things wrong with this conversation, I don't even want to touch it but it ends with Bella begging for sex so much that she agrees to marry Edward, basically just so they can bone. Eddie does his best to outright condemn sex before marriage without ever saying the words “true love waits” by explaining that he is literally saving her soul. Oh man. This is hilarious. Wait wait, Eddie. Hey, Eddie. So it's cool that Bella stood by while hundreds of innocents were murdered in Italy before her very eyes (almost) but she can't hop on the good foot and do the bad thing with you, despite the fact that you're going to spend eternity forever anyway? Because that's going to send her to fiery damnation? By that count, she should looking forward to a good roasting on account of all the lying, not honouring her mother or her father, and she sure as hell has been indulging in a bit of coveting the local werewolf's...ass.

But wait, it gets better. He explains that he's from a different era. He wants to court Bella, and ask her father's permission to propose, and wait until they are sanctified as one in the eyes of God before indulging in sinful, lustful carnal embraces. Wait, what? THIS MAKES NO SENSE. Edward isn't even that old, for a vampire. He's 110, he says. So he was vamped some time around 1917. He only lived in that society for seventeen years before becoming, essentially, a fixed point in time, and thus fully capable of rolling with the changes of each new decade. He's not a time traveller suddenly dumped into the fast and loose ways of the 21^st century. For god's sake, the Roaring 20s started a few years later, and they weren't no church service. This is why Americans make crap vampires. They have no history to live through. Jasper's Civil War story is about as good as it gets.

Anyway, the upshot is that Bella agrees to marry Edward like we always knew she would, so all that wrangling about not wanting to be a teenage marriage statistic was pointless and token and really infuriating.

Anyway, none of this really matters because next comes my favourite scene in the whole thing. For some reason that I wasn't paying attention to, Bella is spending the fight in a tent way above the battleground. Does this mean we don't get to see the fight? BOO. Anyway. It's freezing and Edward, having the skin temperature of an ice lolly, can do nothing but watch as Bella slowly freezes to death. (On a side note – is cuddling Edward fun? Would having sex with be fun? Or just really, really cold?) But surprise, surprise, Jacob to the rescue because he comes in – shirtless, because werewolves scorn blizzards – and after a little face-off with Eddie, who has absolutely no moral ground to stand on here, jumps into Bella's sleeping bag to warm her up against his muscular, naked body. “After all,” he says to Edward, “I am hotter then you.”

Now, you;d think I might be nodding in agreement here - which I am - but mainly, this scene is just brilliantly, hilariously, unintentionally, smoulderingly homoerotic. Jacob Black, I am going to hold a ticker tape parade in your honour but you might want to stop staring at Edward with such animal intensity while you stroke Bella's hair. Things get even better when Eddie and Jake converse while Bella sleeps. “Could you please at least try to control your thoughts?” snaps Edward like a prissy vicar's wife. Jacob grins and calls him out on his mind-invasion things. Jacob Black, I love you. Stephanie Meyer didn't really write you, did she? Some poor editor who probably lives in a bedsit with two cats invented this glorious, decent, funny, strong character, and she has to sit back while you get all the credit. Poor thing. I think her name is Barbara.

They converse some more about super-sheshul Bella is and how hard it would be to lose her and yadda yadda yadda. Why? Bella has got to be the most undeserving heroine I have ever come across. I get that S Meyer wanted to create an everywoman character, someone with who the reader could easily put themselves in her place, but fuck's sake. Bella isn't even an empty frame, she's horrible and ungrateful and moody and manipulative and can't stand up for herself and apparently can't tell the difference between an abusive relationship and true love. Grrr.

Jacob insists again that she's in love with him too, she just won't admit it to herself. Jake, I don't like when you talk like this. You sound pushy. You sound desperate. You sound like Edward. Eddie admits that if they weren't natural enemies and Jacob wasn't trying to steal his “reason for living” (I thought you were dead), he might like him. Boys, boys, this sexual tension is unbearable.

Mercifully Jacob brings us back from insanity-land by telling him that even if Eddie weren't planning on vamping Bella, he still wouldn't like him. Because Edward is a whiny, fussy, uptight, over-protective, stalkery, controlling old man, and Jacob is a living god. Just so we're clear.

Next morning Edward really pulls off that gold medal in douchebaggery he's been gunning for by tricking Bella into revealing the engagement to Jacob. “He deserves to know,” he says unapologetically. Yep, it's definitely Good Ol' Jake's wellbeing that you're looking out for there. Then, just for extra credit, he tries to pull Bella back from going after him. Nice.

But then in a bid to stop Jake running off and killing himself (because apparently no-one in this series can handle a little teen heartbreak) Bella tells him to kiss her. AT LONG BLOODY LAST. And I don't even need to tell you how it's a million times hotter than Eddie's chaste fumbling, but I'll say it anyway. Because it is.

Thankfully, we do get to see the fight scene, and I have to say, it's pretty cool – even if they do manage to avoid real bloodshed by having the vampire limbs shatter like porcelain. Then again, I guess vampires don't have blood...but then where does the blood they drink go? I'm guessing they don't really have digestive systems, they don't seem to go to the bathroom or do anything too icky and bodily because then they wouldn't be so shiny and superhumanly perfect. So does the blood just sit there? Does it evaporate? Wait, how can Edward even have sex with Bella if – to put it delicately – vampires don't have circulatory systems? That's that moral dilemma solved, I guess. Huh. Vampire anatomy. Who knew.

Anyway, then Victoria and her sidekick – the one who was making all the decisions, so is technically the boss, remember? - show up and a slightly less cool fight scene occurs. A baby werewolf call Seth rips the arm off sidekick guy (it is honestly not worth learning his name), which is badass and Victoria goes to run away. Wait, what? How is this character even a villain? How is she worth three films of being the antagonist? She wants to kill Bella – Bella is right there! Edward has to goad her into coming back to fight him! For the 728^th time, this series makes zero sense.

Anyway, they fight and it looks like Eddie will lose (oh no) until Bella remembers her old campfire stories and stabs herself in the arm to distract Victoria. Well, at least she had her brain in gear for once and didn't go for the full heart-stabbing deal-y. Maybe the story woman was just super theatrical and in the moment it just felt right. So Edward rips Victoria's head off. He's still not cool though. Then he sets fire to her, which, if you recall, is the only way to kill a vampire truly and properly. Except what he does is just chuck a lighter (where did he get it? He doesn't smoke. He wasn't even supposed to be in the fight, so it's not like he was carrying it around on the off-chance he'd have to flame a vampire corpse, is it?) on her body – literally throws it through the air of a cold, windy mountaintop – and not only does it stay alight but her entire body goes WHOOSH immediately. Are vampires made of gasoline? Do they have petrol instead of blood? Is that vampire anatomy? I JUST WANT SOMETHING TO MAKE SENSE.

Alice has a vision of Dakota Fanning approaching and it sends a dread chill into her heart but then again, we all have bad memories of War of the Worlds. Then, out of nowhere, one last vamp shows up and Jacob gets half his ribs smashed. No! Use strained plot contrivances to inject some semblance of dramatic morphine into the turgid corpse of this film if you must, but leave Jacob out of it! The Volturi show up because...I honestly don't know. I think they're supposed to be some kind of vampire police but – and buckle up here, because I'm about to agree with Edward for the second time in the film – as Eddie points out, if they'd shown up half an hour earlier they could have, y'know, done their job.

Making up for lost time, the last of the newborn army gets flamed by the Volturi (the Cullens stand by and watch like the horrible apologists for murder that they are) and Dakota Fanning says the Volturi don't give second chances. Wait, what? Yes, you do! Edward – in a really stupid, half-assed way, admittedly – was prepared to reveal your existence to humanity and you let him waltz off with a coy smile and a promise to be good! You said that Bella had to become a vampire and she's still human! You – you – you are terrible antagonists! Jeeeeeeez.

Bella remembers that her best friend got half his bones smashed up for her and stops by to visit while Daddy Cullen patches him up. I'm hoping for another werewolf make-out session but instead we get – predictably – another conversation about relationships. “Edward isn't as perfect as you think,” says Jacob. “I know who he is,” says Bella. Oh, honey. I almost feel sorry for you. “I am exactly right for you,” says Jacob from his manly, sweaty bed of pain. “With me it would be as easy as breathing.” Jake, Jake, Jake, we know. We get it. But some people, y'know. It's like trying to reason with Creationists. My advice is forget her and move on. Maybe with someone with a slightly greater range of facial expression. Someone who writes a Batman-flavoured blog about pop culture and has her very own cat, perhaps.

So we finish with Bella and Edward sitting in a meadow of wildflowers talking about their wedding. Since you can probably imagine what it cost me to type that, I don't need to say much more. Edward tells her that she's giving away too much, trying to make everyone else happy. That's funny, because to me responding to queries about the guest list and reception with “who cares?” kind of suggests, I don't know, the exact opposite. Bella says that the choice between him and Jacob is "the choice between who I should be and who I am". Wait, what? THAT MAKES NO SENSE. Recognising flaws in your character is not a bad thing, Miss Bella Perfect-Special-Monster-Bait Swan, it really isn't. She continues to justify her terrible life choices by saying she's "had to face death and pain and loss in your world, but I've never felt stronger or more myself". Bella, why does everything you say make me want to hit you in the face? Here's a handy clue: if death and pain is making you feel stronger, it probably isn't really happening to you. What you mean is that a few random people you didn't really know died and now you get to make some pseudo-profound observations on life. Congratu-horrible.

“I want to tie myself to you in every humanly way possible,” says Eddie. Oh, just shag. “Starting with our wedding,” he reminds her. Jeeeez. Eddie, you've managed to cockblock yourself. You awful, awful, prudish, boring fictional creation.

And then it doesn't even end with them kissing. They just kind of...touch faces.

In conclusion, for a movie that's supposed to be the “good” one of the series, this is just horrible. It's not inadvertently funny enough to mock like the first one, nor does it have anything genuinely enjoyable about it like the second one. Great characters (Jacob) do contrived, horrible things and NONE OF THE PLOT MAKES SENSE. The fight scenes are pretty cool but they are few and far between because didn't you know? This story is about romance.

If you are acquainted with any young girls between the ages of eleven and fourteen, pay attention. Now, if you are over thirty and not related to any of them, go and take a long, hard look in the mirror and ask yourself some difficult questions. The rest of you, listen up. Do not stop your young children/sisters/cousins etc from reading and watching Twilight. It really isn't worth the sweat off your liberal, mature brows. But at the same time, try and slip them a copy of Little Women or Anne of Green Gables or Jane Eyre so that when they inevitably grow out of the franchise, good books that don't hate women will be waiting for them, along with Wuthering Heights which will deconstruct everything they ever thought was romantic.

And if, on the very small off-chance that they have not grown out of the series by the time they hit their late teens (for teenage girls are not stupid creatures, only full of hormones), if on that very small off-chance, they are seventeen and still taking the series at face value - kill them.

The Twilight Experiment: Part 2 - New Moon

Let it never be said that I don't keep my promises, even if it takes a really, really long time. May I present, for your perusal, The Twilight Experiment: Part 2 - New Moon.

As you will see, my thoughts on New Moon were markedly more concise and less coma-inducingly angry than my musings on Twilight. This is because - brace yourselves - I may have sort of enjoyed one or two bits of it a small amount and I'm really really sorry and I promise never to do it again. If it's any consolation, a) all of those bits miraculously coincided with Taylor Lautner taking his shirt off and b) I'm now faced with the worrying notion that I actually only have things to say when howling and weeping with rage. That's right, I can never be happy. The blog demands it of me.

Anyway, New Moon. Here goes.

The main feeling I had while watching this film was confusion. If you recall from last time's ramblings, Bella has a friend called Jacob who is also a werewolf (along with her science teacher, who is a mummy, and her plumber, who is the Thing from the Black Lagoon). What confuses me is this: Jacob is the good guy. The Good Guy. Scratch that, Jacob is the perfect guy. The movie goes out of its way to make him the hero.

Let me 'splain. No, is too long, let me sum up: Edward leaves about fifteen minutes into the film and, while angelic choirs descended from on high to perform a deafening Hallelujah Chorus, I was gloriously, madly happy. As happy as one can be while watching Twilight film. I was mildly disgruntled. Nay, I was downright apathetic.

Jacob actually acts like a teenager. So Bella acts like a teenager. They act like two teenagers who like each other having doofy, awkward, teenage conversations. At no point do either of them act like stalkers, serial killers, the victims of stalkers and serial killers, or, once again, fucking serial killers. And I was confused because I was all "But isn't Edward meant to be super-special and glittery and amazing and don't we all just love the way he passive-agressively threatens to rip his beloved's throat out?" And Stephenie Meyer would say "Yes" and then probably something about Mormons. But the movie says "No! You though that? You fool!" And then I say, "Well, I didn't actually think that, I was being facetious...." and the movie says "Shut up, Jacob is great. Team Jacob." And I say, "Yes, I agree. Jacob is great." And then I stop trying to having an imaginary conversation with fiction and tell you why. Using exclamation marks.

Jacob fixes motorbikes and cars and other things that involve oil!

Jacob is the only person who can cheer Bella up when she goes into a three month depression because her boyfriend dumps her!

Jacob has a smile that makes rainbows melt!

Jacob is concerned for Bella's wellbeing from a respectable distance!

Jacob has abs that just won't quit!

Jacob clearly has feelings for Bella but won't act on them until she has healed from the scars of a mentally abusive relationship found peace within herself!

JACOB IS A GODDAMN WEREWOLF!

Of course, in a series where vampires sparkle, one could predict that they weren't ever going to be proper werewolves that howled at the moon and committed vicious, gruesome murders but actually, they're pretty cool. While the Twilight VampMeyers will forever be the butt of many, many jokes that involve glitter when they turn up at the Vampire Family Reunions, she actually does an alright job with werewolves. Jacob explains (as firelight glints off his eyes, so dark, so mysterious, so brooding, looking into my very soul... sorry) that his tribe (of tastefully handled Native Americans, remember?) have the ability to shape shift into big, fuck-off wolves in order to defend innocents against vampires. I want you all to read that bit in italics again. Defend innocents against vampires. Not in order to hunt down helpless creatures. Not in order to be generally better or stronger or smarter. Not even in order to have awesome werewolf parties. To defend the helpless. Against the creatures are trying to murder humans horribly. Werewolves are the Supermans of the Twilight universe. So WHY, WHY IN HEAVEN'S NAME, ARE THE VAMPIRES THE GOOD GUYS?

URGH.

Anyway, Jacob continues to be everything one could want from a funny, warm werewolf who fixes cars and also has biceps the size of my fist, and Kristen Stewart is very tentatively learning how to convey basic human emotions through things like facial expression and vocal variation and the whole thing is making little Bambi steps towards something not totally awful when BAM. ALICE SHOWS UP. BOO.

And the first thing she does? She's rude to Jacob. Because he's a werewolf. So we can add mythological racism to the list of things I dislike about the Cullens in general.

But then - cue Incoming Teenage Girl alert - OMG OMG OMG Bella and Jacob are totally going to get it on, steamy werewolf make-out sesh in the kitchen, right here right now, off we go – THE PHONE RINGS.

IT'S EDWARD. OF COURSE. DAMN YOU EDWARD CULLEN.

COCKBLOCKING FROM FIVE STATES AWAY.

Not that I care. Stupid movie.

So then we get to grit our teeth through the introduction of Mr Right (On Opposites Day, maybe. Zing.) back into the plot, as Edward pouts, whines and nances his way back onto the screen. Through some hideous plot contrivance, he thinks Bella is dead. So he's going to kill himself. I imagine you're expecting me to make some catty remark about Meyer being egocentric enough to think she can re-write Romeo and Juliet but I won't. Because in the opening scene, Bella and Edward are watching Romeo and Juliet in class. So it's self-referential, see? It's a clever nod. It's not in any way, say, a screamingly lazy and unconvincing rip-off because Meyer can't write for shit, no, not at all.

OH WAIT, IT'S EXACTLY THAT. PUTTING IN A GLANCING REFERENCE TO THE MOST FAMOUS LOVE STORY OF ALL TIME DOES NOT LESSEN THE FACT THAT YOU ARE RIPPING IT OFF WHOLESALE.

My favourite bit - and by 'favourite', I mean, 'sent me into paroxysms of manic laughter while I tried to destroy the laptop I was watching it on by eating it' - is when Edward declares that Romeo and Juliet were "kind of stupid". I'm not actually going to comment on that because it just might make me cry.

So then we get introduced to some famous super-duper vampires called the Volturi because they live in Volterra in Italy and wait – is that...Michael Sheen? What the hell are you doing here? Jeez, I know you like being fabulous, Michael Sheen, but c'mon man. I saw you play Hamlet. Don't do this to me. I thought we were friends.

Edward's suicide plan involves these special vampires and is also - as though I need to say it - fucking stupid. He's going to reveal the existence of vampires to the human race and then the Volturi will have to kill him because they're some kind of vampire police or something, I guess. That's not (really) the stupid part. The stupid part is the manner in which he will reveal himself. He's going to sparkle. In public. With intent.

Now, if I saw a sparkling naked man in the middle of the street, I would probably just think “My, there is a particularly flamboyant gentleman enjoying his day. Be on your way, flamboyant gentleman, and godspeed to you.” I would not think “VAMPIRES ARE REAL.”

So then we get the world's shittiest action sequence, in which the object is not to defuse a bomb or save a small child from a burning building, but to prevent a pale man from stepping into the sunlight. And believe me, it is exactly as insultingly poor as it sounds.

Bella stops him, obviously. Nobody cares. Not a single fuck do I give.

However, they are summoned before the Volturi again under imminent threat of being brutally and satisfyingly slaughtered. I daren't hope. And, sure enough, instead of doing the world a favour and slaughtering Bella, Edward and Alice in a bloody carnage of righteousness, the Volturi let them go because – I cannot even – they vaguely promise to turn Bella into a vampire at some point in the future. And that's it. There's not even a deadline. Just...*shrug* “well, I believe them”, “sure, me too”, “sweet, let's go get tacos”.

Oh, and then we hear the screams of hundreds of innocent tourists being devoured for the Volteri's supper and Bella Swan, role model of a generation, winces. Yeah, you must really feel for all those lives lost. There were children in there. I hate you, Bella Swan. I really hate you.

Back in Forks, some other stuff happens but I don't really have the heart to go into detail. There's a showdown between Jacob and Edward but obviously Edward wins because Meyer is a cruel god and wishes to teach us that sometimes bad stories happen to good characters. Oh yeah, and Edward forces Bella to agree to marry him as the price of vamp-dom. The only other thing I've come across where someone marries their abuser is Atonement. Maybe Ian McKewan should have written Twilight.

Also there's this whole plot I didn't even mention about Victoria, the girl-vampire from the last film, but it's so pointless and stupid, it would just insult you to mention it.

Sigh. Overall New Moon made me pouty and sleepy. It started out so good when it was just me and Jacob - sorry - Bella and Jacob kicking back with motorbikes and cool werewolf stories and for a glorious, shining hour, all was well with the world. But life, my children, is a harsh and unforgiving business, and sometimes facially-inexpressive-yet-ultimately-innocent women do not get to live happily ever after. Sometimes bad men come back and work evil spells that involve transparent plagiarism of the Western literary canon, and good men can do nothing, no matter how bitchin' their wolf transformation powers are. Sometime, sometimes, my loves, we get New Moon.

Twilight made me angry. This just made me sad. And a little bit hungry.

The Twilight Experiment: Part 1

Twilight, eh? Once it was a time of day, now it's a plague upon the face of humanity. Or is it? (Yes. It is.) I've spent a good few years putting effort into avoiding Twilight. I prided myself on never having read the books or seen the films. It was the one exception to my Can't-Hate-Something-'Less-You've-Seen-It Rule. CHSLYSI for short. But no more.

Because I am so super-devoted to you, and because I have been thinking about monsters a lot, and because my morbid curiosity has grown too strong, I'm caving. Am I going to read the books? Hell no, I'm a busy woman. Plus, I have seen extracts from them and I don't think I could do that to myself. Good god, that sentence structure. I still have nightmares about her misuse of the word “chagrin”. The films, on the other hand – that I can do. As an incentive, I'm not allowed to watch any other films or television until I finish. Pray for me.

So in order to make this bearable, I'm recording my thoughts as I go along. Just for fun, let's count the number of times I say “Wait, what?” or “Jeeeeeez” or TALK IN ANGRY CAPITAL LETTERS. (Spoiler alert: it happens a lot.)

In the interests of full disclosure, I actually know quite a lot about what happens in Twilight already. Partly through osmosis, partly because I've read a lot of angry rants about the series on the internet, partly because I know actual living people who openly admit to enjoying this series (don't worry, they won't be living for long). I'd highly recommend this, in which one poor soul took it upon himself to blog his way through every single chapter of the series from beginning to end. I haven't read the books. I read this. It's good.

So, Twilight. First film. Off we go.

The film starts and I feel vaguely dirty, like I'm watching porn only less fun and with explicitly Mormon overtones. We open with a narration from our mumbly protagonist talking about “dying in the place of someone I love” – cut to a quick deer chase through the woods – “so I couldn't regret the decision to leave home”. Wait, what? (That soon, huh? This is going to go slowly.) Welcome to Non-Sequitur City. Population: umbrellas.

The narrator is, of course, Bella Swan. She arrives in Forks, Washington, and she's kind of depressed. Fair enough. It does look horrible. Like most of America that isn't New York or the Grand Canyon. What? Single Dad Charlie awkwardly tries to reconnect with her. No dice. “I cleared some shelves in the bathroom,” he says desperately. “Thank you,” says estranged daughter Bella, “That was really thoughtful of you because this is hard on both of us and we're going to make as much effort as possible to get along.” Only kidding, she pulls a face and says “Oh right. Only one bathroom.” Hmmm. This better not continue.

Outside, a guy in a wheelchair shows up and some dorky kid with long hair. We find out Charlie has been really looking forward to Bella coming to stay. I like Charlie more and Bella less. The two guys are introduced as Billy, a local Native American (and I'm sure this will be handled tastefully, with tact and dignity and – oh wait, it's Twilight) and his son, Jacob. Wait. Wait. That's Jacob? That's the hot werewolf my friends have been sticking posters up of, in flagrant defiance of the fact they're grown women and this isn't allowed? The hell? Jeez. My expectations of this film dip even lower.

Bella arrives at school, so I'm expecting some kind of dorky-new-kid-montage of her being unpopular but no, people literally start fighting over her. Thank god, for a minute there, I really thought we might have to go through a realistic scenario for a new student. Instead, boys love her, girls are jealous of her – yeah, I can really see why this mumbling, insecure-yet-inexplicably-popular girl has become the role model for tweens everywhere.

In the cafeteria, a bunch of models walks past and Bella is distracted by the sudden switch to slo-mo. New Frenemy Jessica fills us in on them: these are Rosalie, Emmet, Alice and Jasper Cullen (and you thought 'Felicity' was pretentious) and they all live together and also have sex with each other. Slightly Nicer Angela points out they're not actually related, which is how we know she's supposed to be the nice one. No, no, I'm with Jessica on this one. As far as she and Angela know, they're foster siblings. That's weird. Also, they all look way too old for high school. I mean, I know (spoiler alert) they're vampires and probably hundreds of years old anyway, but none of them look like high school students. Wait, what? Why do vampires need to go to high school? They're vampires. I think I'm getting a migraine. Jessica continues to describe them all in slightly bitchy ways. I like you, Jess. Let's be friends.

Anyway, then undead object of slavering adolescent lust Edward walks in and I have to pause the video because I'm laughing so hard. Let me just state here and now that I kind of like Robert Pattinson. He wasn't terrible in Harry Potter and he clearly hates his job in these films, plus the amount of crazy he receives on a daily basis is just sad. He called Stephenie Meyer crazy. He described Edward as “an angry virgin”. That's funny. But good god, he looks terrible. This is the man who we have to believe is the most (literally) supernaturally good-looking being in the whole wide universe. He looks...well, he looks dead. First Jacob, now Edward? Please film, give me some eye candy to help me get through this mess. It's that or strong drink.

I also have to pause the next scene quite a bit because I'm laughing so much. Bella goes to Biology class and – surprise – has to sit next to Edward because Stephenie Meyer is lazy. First he covers his mouth and gags when she comes near and, I must say, I'm also starting to develop something of a gag reflex regarding Bella Swan. Then Bella stares at Edward. Then Edward stares at Bella. Then Bella stares more at Edward. Then Edward stares more at Bella and then I stare incredulously at the shot where the wings of a stuffed owl are positioned directly behind Edward's vampiric shoulders. Because it's like he has wings. You get it, right? Like, angel wings. Because angels are perfect. And Edward is perfect. And he's like an angel. Because he's perfect. And beautiful. Like an angel. Who has wings. Do you want me to go over that again? No? Where are you going?

So Bella mopes about a) the fact that Edward thinks she's so repulsive he won't even come to school anymore and b) the fact that she has no friends. Despite ignoring the palpable efforts of her schoolmates to make friends with her. Hmm.

And then, fifteen minutes in – BAM. It's like another, much better movie has just started. People are running down corridors and doing parkour. Vampire parkour? Could be. Exciting. Also, Emmet the Vampire rides to school on top of the Vampire RV. Emmett might be my favourite character so far.

Sadly, things go back to normal as we then have our first conversation between Bella and Edward. As things go, it's not quite “she doth teach the torches to burn bright”. In fact, Edward stares at her and addresses her with the intensity of gaze and monotony of tone of a serial killer. Bella doesn't mind because the hot guy is talking to her. Wait, what? This is the interaction between the lovers that will define literature for a generation? This? It is also now inescapably noticeable that NEITHER OF THEM EVER VARY THEIR TONE OR FACIAL EXPRESSION. Where's the vodka. This is going to be painful.

Over the course of this conversation, we learn that:

1. Edward knows a suspicious amount about the national meteorological patterns of the United States. And asks questions like “Do you like rain?”

2. It takes Bella about half an hour to answer questions like “Do you like rain?”

3. Edward thinks it is appropriate to back girls into their lockers while making statements like “I'm just trying to figure you out. I find you very hard to read.” Presumably, this is his defence at the restraining order violation hearing as well.

4. Edward's eyes change colour from black to gold. They both look stupid.

Then that scene that we all know from the trailers happens. In the face of an oncoming truck, Bella channels every silent film heroine ever and stands there dumbly as her demise hurtles towards her on wings of death. No wait, here's her pasty CG-Eyed lover (see what I did there) to pull a Superman and bat that truck away like it ain't no thang. At this point in real life, Bella would probably offer her saviour a thank-you shag, or a least a cheeky blozzer round the back of the bike sheds, and the two would then ignore each other awkwardly for the rest of their time at school. There, I just saved you four books and five movies of diminishing returns. Sadly, Edward just stares at her (again) and runs away. Jasper is kind of cute though. Or maybe my standards are just rapidly declining all round.

ARGH. Why does all Edward's dialogue sound like a cross between an Old West sheriff dismissing a hysterical woman and a mass murderer seducing his next victim? At the hospital, we're introduced to Daddy Cullen (Seriously, a note on the vamp make-up here – I get that they need to be pale and interesting, but these people look unwell. Like a cult of unwell people who all have sex together.) and then Bella confronts Edward about his superpowers.

Bella: So you got over there pretty quick.

Edward: What? No. Girl, you crazy. I was standing next to you the whole time.

Bella: Except for the part where you were totally standing by your car.

Edward: Yer jest confused, little lady. You take a knock to that pretty little head of yours?

Bella: No, you were there! I saw you! And then you pushed the van away, just like in that episode of Superman but Raf can't remember which one it is!

Edward: Weeeeeellp, guess we'll never know. Though if you were to go around spinning crazy talk like that, no-one would believe you.

Bella: I wasn't going to tell anyone.

That there in italics? That's actual dialogue. By the way, I'm not reading into anything here. They play this scene like Edward is threatening her and Bella is scared into submission. But that's just one scene, right? Well, the next scene is him watching her sleep.

Seriously, if this was a horror movie, it could be great. Vampires are nature's stalkers – quick, silent, and they want to devour young flesh. I'd love a twisted, psychological thriller about a girl who falls for a vampire (as a result of reading Twilight, for bonus meta-points), only to realise he has developed a dangerous obsession with her, seeking to control her every action, watching her every minute of the day. Pitting her human courage against his superhuman abilities, she must emerge victorious. The film ends with her staking him through the heart, shouting “THAT WAS FOR THE SISTERHOOD. RAFAELLA OUT, BITCHES.”

Or something. She doesn't have to be called that. She could be called...Bafaella. Or something.

We then have a scene in which Edward listens in on Bella's private conversation, questions her about her movements aggressively, refuses to answer her own questions and concludes by telling her “You don't know anything.” Ring a ding ding, Bella, this one's a keeper.

This is followed by a scene in the cafeteria where Bella's non-vampire friends act like actual teenagers instead of uptight, plaster-of-paris-skinned jerks. And guess what? Bella acts like an actual teenager too. Kristen Stewart is a slightly less horrible actress for a moment. She makes a joke. I smile. It's a beautiful, beautiful moment amidst a sea of horrifying character interactions. Sadly, it doesn't last because Edward comes over and tries to pull his emotional whiplash stuff again. Again, it comes across as a mix between a thirteen-year-old kid painting his bedroom walls black and bawling “Nobody understands me!” and – I cannot stress this enough – a fucking serial killer. “What if I'm not the hero?” he growls. “What if I'm the bad guy?” He's admitting it! Run, Bella, run! You literally have it from his own mouth! What more do you need?! But no, Bella decides this cannot possibly the case because he's too perfect and beautiful and truck-repellant. Sigh. I give up on you, Bella Swan. You're on your own now. You are every blonde woman who walks into every cellar where the scary noise is instead of calling the police. So when Charlie finds your dismembered corpse, don't say I didn't warn you.

This is immediately followed by Bella telling Nice Angela that if she wants to go to the prom with Eric (Eric is a boy who likes Bella, though that doesn't really narrow the field much), she should ask him herself. “You are a strong, independent woman,” Bella tells her. Oh, you think you're so cocking clever, don't you.

Jacob turns up again and Jacob and Bella converse like normal teenagers. Bella says, “What are you stalking me or something?” I'd make a comment here about smug self-awareness not being charming or clever, but that's pretty much what this blog runs on. Anyway, Jacob tells some story about how his tribe (again, I'm sure the real life Quileute Tribe feel nothing but affection towards this suburban housewife pilfering their cultural history for fodder for a sub-par teen romance) are descended from wolves to defend against “the cold ones”. For the first time, I feel like this could be an actually interesting monster story, mainly because I'm going “WEREWOLVES WEREWOLVES WEREWOLVES”. More of this, please.

In a stunning vein (no pun intended) of good fortune, the Good Vampire Film continues with a scene of three Flamboyant Evil Vampires being actual vampires, that is to say ripping out throats and walking cockily. Then we're back to Bella and her terrible life.

She's going prom dress shopping with her friends in a local town called Port Angelos and, no surprises here, is a massive bitch to them. She's not going to the prom because she hates fun but Frenemy Jess has asked her along for her opinion. Instead, Bell stares out the window looking bored and grunts “you look lovely” at each outfit. Well if Jess had wanted that, she would have brought her boyfriend along, AM I RIGHT LADIES? OH SNAP. BRING IT IN.

Anyway, maybe this is meant to show how Bella is mature and beyond such frivolous persuits but given that she's just thinking about a hot guy instead, it's not really working. Speaking of, Edward follows her to Port Angelos: Den of Vice, because that's what you do when you've spoken to someone four times, right? Right? Shit. Bella nearly gets raped because I guess even criminals can't resist her and Big Brave Eddie steps in to rescue her. Edward and Bella have dinner. Bella asks for answers (again). He responds with something like, “Maybe. I don't feel like it. Can I have ice cream?” Edward Cullen: four year old. He does, however, tell Bella the following:

• I followed you because I feel protective towards you.

• Other men were thinking bad thoughts about you.

• I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore.

Edward Cullen: creepy, victim-blaming stalker

Bella does some googling and figures out he's a vampire, based on the fact that he

• is super strong

• is super fast

• has cold skin

• never eats or drinks

• speaks like he's from the past (wait, what? When?)

• can read minds.

Well Bella must be some kind of Sherlock Holmes or something because if I put those facts together about someone, I'd come up with David Blaine. But whatever, she confronts him and he confesses. And then – oh god, and then. Then he reveals the sparkles. This may be my favourite bit of the entire film, possibly because if I didn't laugh, I would cry. He steps solemnly into the light and, as the light hits, revealing more glitter than a Gay Pride march, he says, “This is the skin of a killer, Bella. THE SPARKLY, FABULOUS SKIN OF A KILLER.” I might have made that last bit up.

He also shows off his vamp abilities, saying this explains why he's been avoiding Bella: her blood smells tasty and he wants to avoid ripping her head off. He also feels the need to add, “As if you could outrun me, as if you could fight me off. Again, this should be the point in the horror movie where Bella starts running, possibly calling “challenge accepted” over her shoulder. We get more lovely, victim-blaming lines like, “I hated you for making me want you so badly. I still don't know if I can control myself.” Is that an elephant in the room? No, it's the metaphor for abstinence. Bells and Eddie decide to get it on anyway, giving my second favourite line of the whole film: “And so the lion fell in love with the lamb.” I'll just type that again. AND SO THE LION FELL IN LOVE WITH THE LAMB.

WHAT? WHAT? Brilliant.

Wait, we don't even get to see them kiss? The only thing this series has going for it is that is caters to the sexuality of teenage girls. And you just panned away from the kiss. Nice going, film-makers.

Edward and Bella show up to school together in a scene straight out of Grease (he even has shades), and then they chat some more about vampires. Edward finds it appropriate to throw casual references to drinking Bella's blood into the conversation. Bella goes for dinner at the Cullen's house, and everything is super awkward in more than the usual sit-com meeting-the-boyfriend's-parents way. Big sister Rosalie hates Bella so is clearly meant to be an antagonist, so naturally I can't help but agree with everything she says (maybe me and Jess can go and hang there sometime). Sister Alice is Manic Pixie Dream Girl of the highest degree, practically cartwheeling through the house in stripy tights bellowing “I'M QUIRKY”. Mummy Esme does precisely nothing. Bro Emmett, I like. We've discussed this. And Jasper just follows Alice around and doesn't speak. Daddy Doctor Carlyle Cullen, we discover, vamped them all when they were dying humans, so let's not dwell on the fact that of all the dying humans he must have seen as a doctor, the ones he necked were attractive teenagers. Edward casually threatens Bella again in conversation, then jumps from tree to tree like a flying squirrel with Bella on his back. But not before telling her to “hold on tight, spider-monkey.” Dude. It's not sexy.

Then we get to hear Edward playing the piano. Jeeeeez. Where's the goddamn plot in this movie? The evil vampires come back. Thank god. Only 70 minutes in. No wait, they're gone again. Instead we get more conversations between Bella and Edward. Jeeeeeeeeeeez. He admits he's been watching her sleep for the past few months. Not cool. They start snogging, and Eddie freaks out and jumps a mile, then blames Bella. That's really not cool.

Eddie formally introduces himself to Charlie and they talk about Bella like she's a three year old going on a playdate. Edward says, “She won't be home too late and I won't give her any sugar because I know how she gets. Also, no cartoons.”

In reality, he's taking her to play vampire baseball. I can't make up my mind as to whether this is really lame or actually kind of cool. Luckily, I don't have to decide because Emmet does a little dance. He is deff my fave Cullen. And then look! Plot shows up! Making an entrance so dramatic it could be the opening to a heavy metal video. Yeah, vampire face-off! Even if the evil vamps are just posing dramatically and the Cullens are just hissing in a way that would be frankly embarrassing if you saw your old seven-year-old cousin doing it while playing “wampires”.

Aaaaand not even that disappointing bit of conflict lasts because they all agree to just play baseball. Lame. Also lame? Vampire innuendo. “I'm the one with the wicked curve ball,” pouts Victoria, the evil-girl-vampire. Your whole existence is based around sucking and exchange of fluids. Do better. Meanwhile Edward and another evil vampire are staring at each other. Edward sure loves to stare.

Plot! James (seriously? James is your best vampire name?) the Evil Vampire wants to track Bella and kill her for some lazy and unconvincing reason, so she has to skip town. I'll say this, the scene where she convinces her dad she doesn't want to live with him is surprisingly emotional – possibly because Charlie is played by a real actor and not the corpse of one being zapped by cattle prods. Emmet jumps on top of cars again. Wheee! Rosalie questions the wisdom of risking everyone else life to save Bella's (at last, some sense) and Daddy Cullen explains why Bella is part of their cult now: “Bella is with Edward, so she is part of this family now. [ominous pause] We take care of our family.” Also when Bella is leaving, Eddie says to her, “Bella, you are my life now.” AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

James comes up with some kind of convoluted plot involving kidnapping Bella's mum only he didn't really and leading Bella to her old ballet studio. Except he's in her old house to make the ruse. Why not just entice her to the house? Probably because a ballet studio looks cooler, that's why. Lots of room for insultingly obvious symbolism with broken mirrors. We get a restatement of Bella's opening voiceover, only now she says she doesn't mind dying because it brought her to Edward. Wait, what? Dum-dum-dum, it's a trap! James basically admits he wants to kill Bella to piss off Edward. I like James.

Yay action! An actual action scene! But James can apparently be beaten by Edward, so maybe he isn't so great. Just as Eddie is gearing up for some slaughter, Carlyle shows up all “no, remember who you are”. Boo. What happened to the “rip him apart and burn the pieces” stuff from earlier? Wait, what? It's ok for Alice/Jasper/Emmet to kill James? Oh right, because then it can be just out of focus enough to keep the PG-13 certificate, while Edward can hold Bella's hand as she haemorrhages in the foreground, and every right thinking person can be royally pissed off that we don't get to see the only cool thing promised in this film. Bella has been bitten by James so she has vampire “venom” in her bloodstream. Eddie volunteers to suck it out but if he doesn't stop, she'll get vamped. Not quite sure where this fits into the abstinence metaphor to be honest. So Edward nearly turns her into a vamp but doesn't because that would be far too interesting. He does this through the power of montage.

Bella wakes up in hospital, where her mum says Edward and his dad went to find her and she fell down two flights of stairs and through a window at her hotel. Yep, because if two men I'd never met before showed up with my daughter suffering severe injuries, I'd automatically believe them too. We learn that of the three evil vamps, one is harmless, James is dead, and Victoria ran off. So she definitely won't be showing up as the villain of future films then. Edward says Bella has to leave Forks and she has a hilariously epic freak out, which is too good not to link (sorry about the quality, only clip I could fine). Also, why are there still 15 minutes of this film left to go?

Oh right, the stupid prom. Well, Jacob shows up (Hi Jacob! Having sat through this movie, I already like you better than anyone else in it!) and says his dad thinks Bella and Edward should break up. Does no-one in Forks have anything better to do than comment on their relationship? There's a moment of Edward/Jacob tension but it's 110 minutes too late to save this movie. Edward finishes off his general d-baggery by lifting Bella over steps like he's her parent, saying “prom is an important rite of passage, I didn't want you missing it” like he's her parent, and pulling her up onto his feet to dance. Like he's her parent. Bella rounds off her general unlikeability by showing up to prom and being snobby about her friends who are daring to have fun and act their age, and not like a married couple from the 19^th century. One again, there is another conversation about Bella being vampified and oh, oh, oh, he's gonna do it! Psych. Nope. You have to wait another four films for that.

And we end with a shot of Victoria. At the prom. Why? Who knows? A better is question is: who cares?

So my conclusion on Twilight Part 1 is that it's not terrible, just really really dull. I think the best thing you can say for it is that it has some nice locations, even if the director doesn't know how to frame a shot beyond uncomfortable close-ups of the leads or way-too-wide shots of the forest. There's some goldenly, gloriously bad lines of dialogue, favourite obviously being “This is the skin of a killer, Bella!” *sparkles*. “And then the lion fell in love with the lamb” runs a pretty close second because I commend any young man in his early twenties who can say that without sniggering. But it's all downhill from there. The pacing is terrible – all the plot is in the last twenty minutes of the film and also makes no sense. Stewart and Pattinson are fairly terrible leads, both mumbling, frozen-faced, charisma vacuums, emo-ing and indie-ing their way through a mediocre love story. But what gets me most is that Twilight is frustrating: the rare moments of humour play well, as do those of teenagers being actual teenagers. Unfortunately, everything just collapses under the weight of its own simultaneously under- and over-written ponderousness.

The major problem, of course, is the central relationship. If Meyer had written or been trying to write a study of the way desire is bound up with danger – if Bella had been a heroine with some agency and personality and strength, fighting her own desires for a man she knows will kill her in the end – that might have been compelling. As it is – retrogressive, with unlikeable leads – why should we care?

Wait, what? Count: 7.

Jeeeez count: 3.

CAPSLOCK count: 10.

See you for Part 2: New Moon, and keep watching the skies! Wait, that's not right.