Saturday, November 22, 2008

I'm so sorry, Stephanie Meyer.

Okay roommates, I know we all swore not to ever tell anyone what we did last night. I know we made a pact that it would stay between the three of us, but I can't help it: it's too funny.

Last night my roommies and I went to a private screening of Twilight. (I know! I know! I hated all the hype. I disliked the books. I stoutly refused to get involved in the craze. And yet, there I was at the Gateway last night.)

After the movie I gave Liz my concise Twilight review: I think the only thing more painful than an actual vampire bite is watching that movie.

Guys, it was so bad. Ridiculously bad. It was reminiscent of a Provo-style, made-for-BYU-film-class type movie. (Sorry to everyone who made a movie for a BYU film class. I'm sure it was great!) Britni and I irritated all the enraptured girls sitting around us because we physically could not stem our laughter after the first 20 minutes. During the closing credits, when I audibly wondered that the movie could possibly be any worse than the books, I was struck with a death glare from a middle-aged woman seated nearby. Seriously, I think there are people who really believe that Twilight is the single greatest love story of our time. Like our generation's Romeo & Juliet or Pride & Prejudice.

People, this has got to stop. Let's be clear. As a fantasy-based, chick-lit book directed at the tween-to-teen crowd, it works. Not great, but it works. And the movie, as a low-budget (I don't really know if it was low-budget or not, but I can hope) movie, again directed at the teenage audience, it was fine. Like a made-for-Disney-channel movie. In fact, if it was on TV on a Saturday afternoon, I'd probably watch it (or at least Tivo it).

But ladies, it's not the greatest book or movie of our time. Not by a long shot. Let's, as a society, move on.

Dear Stephanie Meyer,
I'm sorry I didn't like your books. From their wild popularity, it's evident I am on the smaller end of the spectrum. I know the exhaustive effort of writing, the laborious task of taking the swirling words and images in your head and forcing them into structure and sense. I know the feeling of proffering your written work to someone, exposing not a completed task but a part of your very heart, your baby. You are absolutely not devoid of talent; I liked that other book you wrote, the one about the aliens. That was pretty interesting. Don't take me seriously. I don't like reading Faulkner either, and he was a freakin' genius or something.
P.S. How old is that guy who played Edward? Is he at least 21? Basically I'm asking if it's okay for me to be lusting after him. He's not one of those 17-year-old prodigies is he? Cause, gross.


Corrine said...

amen to it all!!!

Lauren said...

The guy who plays Edward in the movie is 22. Go ahead and lust.

Kim said...

Uhh, Amy?

I'm still waiting for your comment.

My sister told me that this post sounded really pretentious. I told her to be a man and leave me a comment telling me so.

Still waiting for it.

Lizzy said...

Thanks for breaking our blood-oath of secrecy. ;) I can't trust you to accompany me on anymore embarrassing outings. Friday night is canceled!
...maybe in all fairness I'll go and see it again without screaming idiots in the crowd and with a solemn promise not to giggle uncontrollably at the music or the seizures in the science lab or get the point. ;)

Kim said...

Or the blood Slurpees?

Lizzy said...

exactly! We should try one sometime. They looked so good you want to get the very last drop! and apparently vampires look nauseated at the scent of blood, not hungry. I can't believe you didn't mention why you would want to be turned into a vampire...what did you say it looked like was happening after they were bitten? ;) naughty!