Ever since Stephenie Meyer’s first Twilight novel was published in October of 2005, the popular series has expanded into the phenomenon it is today. Teenagers everywhere stood in endless lines all over the country, desperately waiting for the opening night premiere. Based on a forbidden, thrilling love story, these movies tell the tale of a teenage vampire, Edward Cullen, played by Robert Pattinson and 17 year-old schoolgirl Bella Swan, played by Kristen Stewart. As of November 16th, this heart-wrenching yet controversial saga has reached its end with Breaking Dawn Part 2.
Set in the rainy city of Forks, Washington, the film begins with Bella abruptly awakening to witness the birth of her newborn daughter, Renesmee. When the Volturi, a rival vampire clan, hear of Renesmee’s birth, they are outraged and order the Cullens to death. Bella, her husband Edward, and the rest of the Cullen clan head on a perilous adventure and seek aid from allies around the world to maintain their family’s safety, in preparation for an ensuing war.
Having once been a die-hard Twilight fan in middle school, I now look back on that time period in my life as being nothing short of utterly stupid, and as a sophomore, I strolled into the San Mateo Century 12 on November 17th prepared for the worst.
After about the first ten minutes of the film, there were overwhelming amounts of make-out scenes, which added no substance to the movie whatsoever. What is more, the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Cullen was shown completely unrealistically and lacked the natural communication skills that a successful, yet complicated marriage would have.
Eventually the Volturi arrive at the battle scene, which takes place nearby the Cullen’s home in Forks. I was looking forward to an engaging fight, in which the enemy forces would be obliterated at last. My hopes were crushed by disappointment, but then I discovered the surprising twist, not in the film, but in a few rows over. Glancing over at the exit door, I noticed a man around his twenties hustling out of the theatre, muttering “this is terrible,” under his breath.
At last, the credits started rolling. I was free from the overbearing chaos of the film. When turning to a group of a few women next to me, they stated, “It was definitely no academy award winner, but still the best one yet.”
Aside from the immense headache that had begun to take over me, I could leave with at least some reassurance and comfort: That was the last Twilight movie and I would ever in my teenage years again.