Twilight: Breaking Dawn — Part 2 | C-
For
about 15 minutes, near the end of Twilight — Breaking Dawn — Part 2, I
found myself thinking, “I can’t believe it, they’re finally going to introduce
some real peril, some honest to goodness dramatic stakes.” After all, when you
see prominent supporting characters and sneering enemies get their heads ripped
off, it’s natural to think that the series, which often mistook moping for
emotion and posing for action, actually grew a pair of balls and decided to
deliver on its otherwise hollow threats of danger. No such luck. At the risk of
kicking this review off with a spoiler — and those who care should go on to the
next review — the big showdown ends up being little more than a dream. Once
again, the threats were empty and the stakes inconsequential. More than all its
other myriad faults, this is why the Twilight films have earned my
scorn. They are hysterical yet empty dramatic vessels, hyperventilating over
passionate indecision and supernatural menace, yet delivering only sulky
wallpaper. In other words, Stephenie Meyer’s writing is irredeemably terrible,
and scripter Melissa Rosenberg does nothing to improve that fact.
So
let’s drop the pretense that Twilight: Breaking Dawn — Part 2 is going
to get, or is deserving of, serious critical consideration. Over the course of
the last three films, there has been a remarkable consistency in its commitment
to low-quality entertainment. The acting has been laughable, the protagonist is
passive to the point of catatonic, the special effects are only slightly better
than what you’d see on the SyFy channel, and the anti-sex, pro-abstinence,
anti-abortion subtext is odious. I don’t mind a movie that brazenly wears its Red
State sensibilities on its sleeve, I mind that it is inept and
self-congratulatory.
Taking
inventory of the plot thus far: After spending three films moping with romantic
indecision over Edward, the sparkly vampire (Robert Pattinson), and Jacob, the
frequently bare-chested werewolf (Taylor Lautner), Bella (Kirsten Stewart)
finally ties the knot with the bloodsucker, spends her honeymoon on a Brazilian
island, gets knocked up, then delivers a half-breed baby weeks later.
Unfortunately, the tyke kills her on its way into the world. Luckily, Edward
puts the bite on Bella, finally turning her into the vampire she’s always
wanted to be. Oh, and Jacob’s “imprinted” on Renesmee (which might be the worst
baby name of all time). Yup. That means the teen wolf and the vampire baby are
going to hook up. Hopefully after she clears Washington state’s age limit for
statutory rape.
These
plot developments might have made for a damn interesting film if someone like
David Cronenberg had gotten his hands on it. His disturbing approach to body
identity and sexuality could have given Meyer’s unlikely mix of Mormon morality
and pervy goth romanticism a rich landscape to play in. Unfortunately, the
films have had a chaste, soap opera quality to them, muting the sex to gauzy hugging
and kissing while quickly papering over Meyer’s unsettling ideas about
inter-species sexuality and necrophilia.
But
that’s the last installment. Onward and downward! Without a romantic triangle
or dangerous birth to fuel the melodrama, Breaking Dawn — Part 2 spins
its wheels gathering together a United Nations … or rather a Benetton ad of
vampires who will help defend Bella’s quickly maturing offspring from the
power-hungry Volturi clan, who have strict laws about baby bloodsuckers. It’s
an eyeliner-and-bad-special-effects face off, with the Cullen family and their
runway model pals voguing against Aro (a joyously unhinged Michael Sheen) and
his heavily robed, superpowered minions (most notably a mute Dakota Fanning).
Throw some poorly rendered CGI werewolves into the mix as well and mayhem comes
really, really close to ensuing. But doesn’t. Then does. Then doesn’t again.
Bella’s
droning voice-over gives way to a soft focus montage of I’m OK-you’re OK
images, with the final shot settling on Edward and his love in a field of wild
flowers. It’s only then that you realize director Bill Condon and his effects
wizards forgot to make the young vampires sparkle in the sunlight — for the
entire movie. Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe Meyer randomly changed the rules again.
Who knows? At this point in the series you’re either all-in or simply don’t
care. If you do happen to be part of the small demographic that hasn’t decided
whether to see the movie (as confounding a notion as those who remained
undecided on Election Day) then take this simple suggestion: Don’t. There are
better ways to spend your evening. Perhaps there’s some laundry to be done?
This article appears in Nov 28 – Dec 4, 2012.