The vampire premise and preteen buzz alone was enough to give ‘Twilight’ a push through the door, so it’s a wonder how Catherine Hardwicke managed to fuck it up so royally. Leading lovebirds Kristin Stewart and Robert Pattinson recite their lines like they’d much rather be choking on them ‘mdash; considering the amount of times Pattinson half-swallows, we assume that he tried at some point ‘mdash; and their sulky supporting cast carries not even half as much gusto.
Midway through attempting a plot, the film gives up and goes to prom instead, in quite possibly the ugliest ruffled blue dress on the planet. Basically, the novel-based romance consists entirely of two awkward pale sci-fi nerds eyeballing each other ‘mdash; despite the fact that they have the chemistry of two slugs colliding in delicious, gooey slow motion.
Let’s face it: ‘Twilight’ was made so that followers of former model Edward Cullen could squeal and sigh their pants off. For those of us who don’t count ourselves into the overactive-pheromone fan club, though, the boy-toy filler leaves us cold as starfish. Besides, if sleepover-ready oglers could see beyond the dreamy fangs, they’d realize that all the heavy petting is actually major creeper status. Cullen sneaks into Bella’s room at night ‘mdash; every night ‘mdash; for a ‘couple of months,’ merely because he’s fascinated by her sleep. Are you serious? Break out the fucking pepper spray.