Okay, I get it: "Twilight" fans (Twi-hards) can get a little crazy, and screaming tweens everywhere have largely turned off a more mature crowd from appreciating this internationally-exalted saga, a reality even some of the cast struggled with when embarking on this project. But put all the hysterical girls and Team Edward/Team Jacob bullshoot aside, and you may see it for what it is: a genuinely enthralling and emotionally appealing story. The film adaptations of the beloved Twilight series have done a very good job of translating the fantasy in a mature way. Such is certainly the case with the most recent film, "Breaking Dawn: Part 1," which was beautifully done and I would say is a spectacle bordering on exceptional.
I must begin by addressing the much-anticipated wedding scene. Is there a more profound term for holy freaking gorgeous that I should use here? Magnificent? Exquisite? Splendiferous? Before the ceremony, as Bella prepares and is fussed over in the usual way, she's a nervous wreck. She is relieved that her mom and dad come to see her, especially her dad Charlie, who is having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that his 18-year-old daughter is--instead of going to college and working a summer job at an independent newspaper or environmental non-profit--is getting married to the smolderingly protective and mysteriously wealthy young man she's known for less than two years. Well, it's too late for questions now; Bella takes a deep breath and readies herself to become a wife, something she finds harder to swallow than the metallic sweetness of human blood.
At the ceremony site, white flowers hang from the trees like a ceiling of live icicles, which most likely serve as creative shading--assurance that none of the wedding party will start lighting up like Cinderella's dress--who, by the way, has nothin' on Bella Swan. The bride is a sight of sheer perfection, her dress an exquisite modern take on the traditional Victorian style, no doubt an homage to Edward's roots and the reason for all of this: his attachment to tradition and the "right way of doing things." I mean, yeah, if he's eventually going to turn his blushing bride into a bloodthirsty vampire so they can truly live together for eternity, I don't blame him for wanting to keep some things customary. A beautiful blue-diamond heirloom hair pin given to her by her mother has been fastened into Bella's impeccable hair and holds her long, simple veil. Propped up by her father, Bella approaches the aisle, and we get a gander at the stunning back of her dress: the delicate lace cut-out--ohmygodhowdeliciousisthis--is segmented by a line of pearl buttons, which runs down the center from the neck to the tasty train. The front appears to be satin, in a feminine, form-fitting cut. Designed by the legendary Carolina Herrera, if you're near an Alfred Angelo boutique, you can try Bella's dress on. Don't be obnoxious about it, though. They're getting pretty sick of that.
Bella is still all nerves as she starts down the aisle, but through the anxiety her eyes land upon the one person that makes even the high heels worthwhile: her groom, Edward. He looks happier than Rosalie in a vat of blood and babies. Secure in knowing exactly where she's meant to be, Bella proceeds soundly toward her destiny as a vampire princess and meets Edward at the altar. They waste no time in exchanging the simple, traditional vows, played over with a moving montage of their (short but ample) history together. As they lean in to kiss, Iron & Wine's "Flightless Bird, American Mouth" plays, a throwback to their first dance at junior prom.
The reception is a gay affair indeed, complete with drinking, dancing, and snarky comments from Bella's coulda-been-best friend, Jessica (some funny, some awkward). Anyone of any great importance gives a toast to the sickeningly happy couple, last of all Edward. To paraphrase what I remember of his heartfelt speech: "I've been waiting for what seems like a very long time to get beyond what I am, and with Bella, I feel like I can finally begin. No measure of time with you will be enough, but we'll start with forever." Kay Jeweler's ain't got shit! As though this elaborate, teenage fairy tale wedding weren't strange enough, it sounds even stranger to hear this (allegedly) 18-year-old kid speak in such eloquently romantic terms about how long he's been waiting for the love of his life. If I were in attendance I would probably think he was the kind of kid who picked out his future bride's wedding dress when he was, like, five.
After a visit from Jacob, who ruins the mood by getting pissed about her plan to have dangerous sex with her vampire husband, it's time for the couple to depart. Leaving behind their cheering family, friends, and life as Bella knows it, they drive away into the moonlight, alone together at last. Somewhere in the woods, Bella hears the despairing howl of a wolf.
Edward leads her to Rio de Janeiro, where they spend a couple hours smooching in the vibrant streets before pulling her on the last leg of their journey, to Carlisle's private island off the coast: Isle Esme. We know Bella is a simple girl, but even she has to admit that shit is riDICulous. Bella is more psyched about the fact that, after holding up her end of the deal (a wedding), Edward must now hold up his (some sex). It's on!
I must say I was slightly disappointed in the PG-13ness of the "big sex scene" that was so hyped up, considering there wasn't much of one to speak of. We see them getting hot and heavy, which drives Edward to break the headboard with one hand (hot), but then it cuts right to the next morning with Bella waking up in a ravaged bed, down feathers flying. Shwing! I know we're supposed to get the idea, but with so much build-up to the culmination of their act of love, we're dying to experience more of that epic passion (that's not just me, is it?). Of course it does closely echo the book in that way, and Stephenie Meyer, good Mormon that she is, probably doesn't want to spill all of Edward and Bella's secrets.
Ironically challenging though it may be for Bella to get her new husband to touch her again (after seeing the bruises he left on her from their first lustful night), this is the best honeymoon ever. She gets to spend the next two weeks (or however long she would have wanted) on their private beach, hiking and playing chess with her sparkly lover, transforming herself each night to seduce him with a different piece of lingerie. Dream come true much?
Of course their dream honeymoon is interrupted with the sudden realization that Bella is--gasp--pregnant. What? How? Possible? Despite Edward's deadness, he's clearly got some live ones down there. There is a great shot where, after Edward declares they are leaving to "get that thing out," Bella observes herself in the bathroom mirror. She caresses herself--her belly, her face, her hair--as if seeing herself for the first time. She is suddenly a whole new person, with a destiny which has just veered sharply in a new direction. "Thing?" she says to herself in response.
They rush home, of course, where Bella spends the next few weeks growing more pregnant and sickly by the day. Totally unwilling to take the advice of everyone (except Rosalie) and somehow terminate the pregnancy, Bella suffers horribly for this mysterious new life. Jacob stops by shortly thereafter, at which point she is pretty damn pregnant and at the same time little more than skin and bones. I must give credit to the makeup and special effects department here--she looks awful! The movie does a good job of showing how twisted and disgusting Jacob finds this development, but the book goes into so much detail (as the chapters switch up the narrating points of view) of his complex turmoil--his shattered fantasies of her one day carrying his child, naturally round and healthy, and the ceaseless agony of knowing that he could never fulfill his primal desire to destroy Edward without destroying her too. Whew. Gosh. Intense.
Of course now that Jacob knows what's up with Bella, the rest of the wolf pack has to know. Drama ensues, loyalties waver, yadda yadda yadda.
Finally (after what, a month? Maybe two?), Bella goes into labor just after announcing to the family, including Jacob, her baby name selections: for a boy, Edward Jacob (EJ--gross), and for a girl, Renesmee (Renee + Esme). (Man, Edward seriously has no say in any of this, does he?!) The birth of a vampire hybrid baby is uniquely gruesome, of course, which means they must act fast. Edward cuts their baby out of Bella, who lays eyes on her once before she goes still. When Edward tries to hand the baby girl to Jacob so he can give his attention to his dying wife, Jacob refuses to acknowledge the monster responsible for Bella's death. Good thing, because if he had looked into Renesmee's eyes and imprinted just then as he would hours later (when in doubt, show a montage--it works!), they would've been all wwhhaaa??!! as if they didn't have enough to deal with at the moment. Edward hands the baby to Rosalie, who is more baby-crazy than bloodthirsty at the moment, and joins Jacob in the attempted resuscitation of Bella, who is so disgustingly dead. Amazing makeup and digital effects here, again. She surely looks like a corpse.
Nobody could predict what the actual delivery of the baby would be like, but they did anticipate having to "change" her at the last minute, to ensure her survival. Jacob, thinking she's gone, storms outside in outrage and grief, while Edward delivers a straight shot of his venom into Bella's lifeless heart, "Pulp Fiction" style. Maddened and desperate, he then bites her entire body, ensuring the venom will catch, and she will return to him. Though she still lies cold, Carlisle assures him the vampire venom is working; he can feel her pulse. Little do they know she will burn soundlessly in excruciating pain for three days before she opens her eyes again, reborn in red. Vampire Bella is going to be so badass.
This all sounds so fantastical, because it is. Even the most ardent Twi-hards are aware of the fantasy factor here, yet they suspend it for a couple hours every time they watch one of the movies or read one of the books. Is this not the nature of romantic fantasy, to ensnare us so fully that we are left breathless? If the story of Twilight achieved anything less than that, it would not have become at all what it is today. Truthfully, what girl wouldn't want this cosmic love affair with a deathless hottie who never farts, gets fat, or bitches about who's going to take out the garbage? Better yet, whose love is whole and unwavering?
If anything makes it difficult to distinguish fantasy from reality, it's that Robert Pattinson (Edward) and Kristen Stewart (Bella) are a real-life couple. Young, beautiful, talented and famous, these two are a teen girl's wet dream (sorry, Justin Bieber). Though while "Robsten" undoubtedly have their faults and struggles, Edward and Bella are perfect, and it is the filmmakers' job for us to become as enamored with them as they are with each other. Well, we are. Mission accomplished, Hollywood. So suck it, haters. Seriously.
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