Real Vampires Don't Sparkle
I know we have all felt at least a twinge of disappointment when we see the movie version of a book we really love. It seems that, despite their best efforts, the screenwriters and everyone else involved manage to produce a movie that is, more often than not, subpar. Maybe it is because I have super high expectations, but every time I go see a movie based on a book a little bit of my soul dies. In almost every case, the movie destroys any mental images that I had built up from reading the book, and once I exit the theatre I feel the need to purge the filth that had built up by pouring over the book. This has helped me reconnect with many books, including Harry Potter and the Adjective Noun and The Golden Compass, but there is one film that was so far beyond saving I still feel hatred for it two months later.
Like every girl between the ages of eight and fifty, I was swept up by the Twilight craze last semester. Despite my better judgment, I decided to read the books and immediately took a liking to them. I don’t know if was the fact that I was so stressed last semester that I had no desire to read anything over an 8th grade level, or if I really was intrigued by the thought of a vampire who abstained from human blood and fell for the most boringly average girl on the face of the planet. Whatever it was, I was hooked. Naturally, I was excited for the movie. The book was so descriptive that I figured the producers would have a hard time screwing the movie up. And, I reasoned, Hollywood has never let me down when it comes to movie adaptations of books I like.
I had originally planned to see the movie with a friend in Boulder over Thanksgiving Break, but, since everyone I talked to gave it raving reviews, I decided to go see it the day after it came out with a group of friends. I was so excited I stayed up the night before re-reading the book, and the next day I was so jittery I felt like one of those giggly anime characters. Looking back on it, I am pretty disgusted with myself. However, at the time it was the perfectly normal female response to the movie, and I enjoyed being connected to a great part of the population. I mean, come on. When there’s a Facebook SuperPoke option related to a book and/or movie, you KNOW it has become a major part of pop-culture. I spent the whole day talking about the book to anyone who would listen, and as soon as I met my friends we started jumping up and down like schoolgirls on crack. We got to the theatre a good forty-five minutes early, and passed the time discussing the book and judging all the high school kids who brought their books to check the accuracy. We were REAL fans, we didn’t have to reference the book to tell if something was right or wrong. We entered the theatre, which showed us right away that we hadn’t gotten there early enough: the place was PACKED. We were forced to sit really close to the front, but we didn’t mind. Not soon enough, the lights dimmed and I felt our collective hearts skip a beat: we were minutes, maybe even seconds from being plunged into the world of the supernatural and the unparalleled romance of that hot vampire guy and that one chick. However, as soon as the the first scene lit up the screen, everything went downhill.
I watched the first scene, and as it unfolded I felt the urge to laugh start building up in the back of my throat. There was a voice-over and a lot of camera shaking in order to depict something chasing a deer. I glanced at my friend, and we both snickered a little. I though “Really? You used a camera man with epilepsy?” I prayed that it would get better, and the praise that other people had given the film filled me with a tiny ray of hope. The movie progressed, and as it did the ray of hope flickered and died. I could not find one redeeming quality of the movie. Every serious moment sent me into fits of laughter, and it was absolutely saturated with teenage angst. My personal favorite moment had the hot vampire guy trying to contain himself when boringly average girl sat down next to him in class. It was supposed to look like the guy was containing his urge to kill the girl, but to me it looked like he was trying not to vomit. His strained eyes and sharp intake of breath reminded me of my dog right before he is about to blow all over my bedroom floor. I felt the urge to move back a few rows, just in case. Another highlight was this vampire’s inability to speak coherently. A century of existence would give a person enough time to become clear and concise, right? This point was made in the book, but apparently the screenwriter felt that a stuttering, brooding lead vampire would make the girls of the audience swoon. And apparently she was right. Other groups of girls were captivated by the onscreen depiction of Edward and would shoot weird looks at my group every time one of us laughed. One girl sitting near me looked like she wanted to lunge across the seats and take me out. Despite the negative vibes that were being sent my way, I could not stop laughing and wondering, “Why can’t people see how absolutely ridiculous this movie is?”
I know that part of my disappointment came from the hype that I let build in me over this movie. Hollywood has hurt me before, so why didn’t I learn from my past mistakes and keep my excitement to a controlled burn? I believe my answer to this lies in the fact that I read the books so fast that I didn’t leave time to process them. Now that I am out of the Twilight haze, I wonder why I was interested in it in the first place. Who wants to read about a vampire who doesn’t prey on humans? Isn’t that the whole point? It would also explain why, despite my history of pouring myself over books whose movie versions were horrible, I am repulsed by the thought of reading Twilight again. The only way I wish to associate with that book is to make fun of it, and luckily there are plenty of websites dedicated to the relentless mocking of that train wreck.
Like every girl between the ages of eight and fifty, I was swept up by the Twilight craze last semester. Despite my better judgment, I decided to read the books and immediately took a liking to them. I don’t know if was the fact that I was so stressed last semester that I had no desire to read anything over an 8th grade level, or if I really was intrigued by the thought of a vampire who abstained from human blood and fell for the most boringly average girl on the face of the planet. Whatever it was, I was hooked. Naturally, I was excited for the movie. The book was so descriptive that I figured the producers would have a hard time screwing the movie up. And, I reasoned, Hollywood has never let me down when it comes to movie adaptations of books I like.
I had originally planned to see the movie with a friend in Boulder over Thanksgiving Break, but, since everyone I talked to gave it raving reviews, I decided to go see it the day after it came out with a group of friends. I was so excited I stayed up the night before re-reading the book, and the next day I was so jittery I felt like one of those giggly anime characters. Looking back on it, I am pretty disgusted with myself. However, at the time it was the perfectly normal female response to the movie, and I enjoyed being connected to a great part of the population. I mean, come on. When there’s a Facebook SuperPoke option related to a book and/or movie, you KNOW it has become a major part of pop-culture. I spent the whole day talking about the book to anyone who would listen, and as soon as I met my friends we started jumping up and down like schoolgirls on crack. We got to the theatre a good forty-five minutes early, and passed the time discussing the book and judging all the high school kids who brought their books to check the accuracy. We were REAL fans, we didn’t have to reference the book to tell if something was right or wrong. We entered the theatre, which showed us right away that we hadn’t gotten there early enough: the place was PACKED. We were forced to sit really close to the front, but we didn’t mind. Not soon enough, the lights dimmed and I felt our collective hearts skip a beat: we were minutes, maybe even seconds from being plunged into the world of the supernatural and the unparalleled romance of that hot vampire guy and that one chick. However, as soon as the the first scene lit up the screen, everything went downhill.
I watched the first scene, and as it unfolded I felt the urge to laugh start building up in the back of my throat. There was a voice-over and a lot of camera shaking in order to depict something chasing a deer. I glanced at my friend, and we both snickered a little. I though “Really? You used a camera man with epilepsy?” I prayed that it would get better, and the praise that other people had given the film filled me with a tiny ray of hope. The movie progressed, and as it did the ray of hope flickered and died. I could not find one redeeming quality of the movie. Every serious moment sent me into fits of laughter, and it was absolutely saturated with teenage angst. My personal favorite moment had the hot vampire guy trying to contain himself when boringly average girl sat down next to him in class. It was supposed to look like the guy was containing his urge to kill the girl, but to me it looked like he was trying not to vomit. His strained eyes and sharp intake of breath reminded me of my dog right before he is about to blow all over my bedroom floor. I felt the urge to move back a few rows, just in case. Another highlight was this vampire’s inability to speak coherently. A century of existence would give a person enough time to become clear and concise, right? This point was made in the book, but apparently the screenwriter felt that a stuttering, brooding lead vampire would make the girls of the audience swoon. And apparently she was right. Other groups of girls were captivated by the onscreen depiction of Edward and would shoot weird looks at my group every time one of us laughed. One girl sitting near me looked like she wanted to lunge across the seats and take me out. Despite the negative vibes that were being sent my way, I could not stop laughing and wondering, “Why can’t people see how absolutely ridiculous this movie is?”
I know that part of my disappointment came from the hype that I let build in me over this movie. Hollywood has hurt me before, so why didn’t I learn from my past mistakes and keep my excitement to a controlled burn? I believe my answer to this lies in the fact that I read the books so fast that I didn’t leave time to process them. Now that I am out of the Twilight haze, I wonder why I was interested in it in the first place. Who wants to read about a vampire who doesn’t prey on humans? Isn’t that the whole point? It would also explain why, despite my history of pouring myself over books whose movie versions were horrible, I am repulsed by the thought of reading Twilight again. The only way I wish to associate with that book is to make fun of it, and luckily there are plenty of websites dedicated to the relentless mocking of that train wreck.