Since Tax Day isn’t for another 5 months, I needed a new way to waste my money with nothing to show for it. So I went to see Breaking Dawn with the Voluntary Life Partner of the People’s Revolutionary Critic.
(Spoilers to follow, stop now if your enjoyment of the film requires that you know nothing of the plot)
Bella (aka “The Great White Void”) and Edward (“The Other Great White Void”) are getting married. Edward graciously gives Bella permission to dance with hunky, slow-learner Jacob, who is afflicted with the worst case of puppy love in the Great Northwest. Jacob pouts, grows fur, growls, pouts some more, and departs in a great sulk. Bella and the Other Great White Void depart for a romantic honeymoon in the wilds of Brazil.
Then it’s time to consummate this long smoldering and chaste love. Edward is a powerful lover…bedposts are broken in the frenzy of passion. Bella awakens to Edward’s concern. He asks “How sore are you?” She’s bruised and didn’t even know it, because, you know…she’s so in love.
And that’s when the real “ewwwww” factor began to creep up on me.
It’s bad enough that Bella is a NOTHING (as far as the movies go). She’s never been seen reading a book, cooking a meal, or strumming a guitar. She has the personality of a new 3 x 5 index card and sense of humor a tree sloth would admire. Her existence, her being, is about waiting for Edward to decide if he loves her, cause he’s so, you know, perfect.
But Edward…he’s the perfect textbook abusive boyfriend: gives her permission to see her friends, and regularly rejects her for her “own good.” After the first sex, he withholds himself (and the other Other Great White, if you know what I mean). She has to plead with him for the Glorious Gift. He gives in and then, 30 seconds later, she’s pregnant. Bella wants to keep the baby, but Edward doesn’t, so off he goes into a prolonged period of disapproving, smoldering gazes at her.
Oddly enough, a vampire fetus is bad for a human mom (go figure). But Bella is going to have this baby, because she loves it and Edward. See, he’s so perfect, she’s willing to die for him. And the really cool thing is, she’ll waste down to concentration camp size (when the movie really remembers it has some horror roots), and she’ll die for love, but you know what? She’ll be brought back to life by his love, but she’ll be as beautiful and perfect as him. She just has to die in his arms.
The pathology of this relationship is sick sick sick. I’m surprised there aren’t “Twi-cide” sites, where women (young and old) with no self-esteem pledge to die for men who have ignored and rejected them, just to prove how true their love is.
It’s going to be my new litmus test film: anyone who thinks it’s “romantic” will never be left alone with my children.
Bottom Line: Serious Pop Culture Punji Stick. Pray to the gods to send ravens to pluck out your eyes so you don’t have to look upon such an abomination.
Worth: Nothing! Two precious hours of your life that will never return. Watch “Taken” instead. The father is tough on his daughter, but he loves her and goes to the end of the earth to save her with none of the emo-moro (emotional moron) nonsense thrown in.