Persephone's (Gothic) Insights

Having seen the latest Steven King adaptation, It: Chapter 2 (2019), I wanted to give my thoughts on it. Spoilers galore! The movie opens with two nameless men at the annual Derry carnival. The shorter of the two plays a game, while his taller friend watches. When the short man wins, he smirks and hands his prize to an upset little girl (who lost). She has a noticeable birthmark on her right cheek, and looks wanly up at him—until he hands her the little stuffed toy. Then, her face brightens. The actual victor is crowned with a beaver hat by his friend. The short man replies, "Actually, I was never into beaver," and promptly kisses him. It is reciprocated, and the pair carry on, arm-in-arm. However, some spectators nearby take heed and make their disapproval known, calling the couple sexually-motivated slurs. The short man returns fire: "Meg Ryan wants her wig back!" After a bit of saber rattling, the short man is lead away by his partner. They walk down ...

This is part three of a three-part review of Catherine Hardwicke's  Twilight  (2008). Whereas parts one and two examined the literature preceding the move (and books), part three shall focus mostly on the movie, itself. I won't say I actually liked  Twilight , the movie. It just wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I expected pure, unadulterated torture (after all, I'd seen people  excoriate  this movie as being utter dross). It made sense, too, because the book was so poorly written (and generally books that predate films critically surpass their adaptations). Yet, when I watched  Twilight , I actually enjoyed it... for what it was. I wouldn't rank it up there with  Casablanca  (1942) or  The Wild Bunch  (1969) but I wouldn't rank it as low as the novel that came before it. At the same time, Twilight is no  Plan 9 from Outer Space  (1959). Given which of them is better I'd side with Ed Wood. Why? Becaus...

This is part two of a three-part review of Catherine Hardwicke's  Twilight  (2008). Part one examined the literature preceding the movie; this shall, too —namely expressing my woes on Meyer as an author and what "good" writing actually is. Part three shall focus mostly on the movie, itself. Fans of Stephanie Meyer, be forewarned: I'm about to barbecue your sacred cow. As I do, the wish isn't to sound like 18th century critic Alexander Pope: mercilessly condemning his contemporary female readers for overindulging in Gothic novels. Such works were unfairly dubbed as "terrorist literature" because their "dangerous" content threatened to corrupt women's minds (whatever that means). Thanks to the internet, I imagine  Twilight doesn't pose the same kind of "threat" as explored by Jane Austen in her posthumously published, Gothic pastiche, Northanger Abbey (1817). Even so, I still think there's something unfortunate abou...

This is part one of a three-part review of Catherine Hardwicke's Twilight (2008). It shall focus mostly on the books that predated the film; part two shall engage more directly in critiquing Meyer as an author, and part three , the movie, itself. I know what you're thinking: what the hell am I doing, watching this film? Point-in-fact, it was my homework, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't approached this particular "assignment" with a fair amount of dread. Mandated viewings of  Twilight  should be listed under "cruel and unusual" punishment... right? I didn't get much of what I usually want from B-movies (violence, profanity and sex). At the same time, it wasn't that bad—in the sense that I wanted to stab my eyes out. Here, I didn't. That being said, I won't be watching it again anytime soon. I'll be frank: Twilight  isn't great cinema. It's effectively a movie for young adults, much in the same fashion as books ...