The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2 (2012)

Yes, I watched. Yes, I hate myself for watching.

Let me beam brief pride before I serve raging scorn: “The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part II” finally gives us something we have not seen yet seen in this supernatural romance franchise about a young woman torn between moody, control-freak vampire boyfriend (now husband) and moody, control-freak BFF werewolf: Bella (Kristen Stewart) at last forms a personality of her own and the initiative to take action on her own. Finally.

Disclaimer: Bella is dead. She is now a full vampire. So, never mind pride. Lady has a backbone, no pulse. She’s still at home, still controlled. She has to die to get freedom. 

Misogynist.

This last chapter of a two-part flick follows Bella and that vampire soul mate Edward (Robert Pattinson) as they protect their infant child Renesmee from evil vampire overlords who want the young girl dead, lest she turn monstrous. Renesemee is half-human, though, so not a danger, but not quite normal. Her age is a speed train, going to toddler in mere days, and grade schooler within months. She can fly. Read minds. (I guess she can join the “X-Men” movies?) 

Protecting the child from ritual murder is of such importance that Jacob’s werewolf family is willing to put aside its long regional war with Edward’s family and fight alongside them. 

Why? Love! 

But an intermission: See, this flick is still based on Morman conservative Stephanie Meyer’s novels, a woman whose overall view on females have vexed me for years. She writes submissive women, the kind who like to take abuse, and appreciate it, thrive off it. Men control. Women obey. No shades of gray. Meyer must hate being a woman.

In an earlier film, Edward visited Bella on the eve of their wedding, I guess to make sure she behaves, or because he loves her that much … who knows? Jacob once told Bell, “If I can’t have you, no one will.” Bella smiled. Romance, huh? Anti-woman. Meyer’s world.

(Myers’ “The Host” is worse, with a female hero who falls deeper in love with her man after he punches her in the face. Another beau prefers strangulation. Get the theme?) 

I bristled and stewed in those previous movies, but not to the point of turning off the film and walking away in disgust. I did here. I saw it coming, too. 

The scene: Twenty-something wolfman Jacob (Taylor Lautner) stands by Edward near movie’s end and -– referring to the 9-ish Renesmee, a child –- says, “Shall I start calling you dad?” The scene’s a joke. Get it? No? See the 20-year-old Jacob is in love with the little girl and wants to marry her. He wants her body. He thinks about it. Really.

It’s not his fault. It just happened! She imprinted on him, whatever the fuck that means. Actually it means the little girl came onto him, the No. 1 defense of every sick-ass child molester out there. Look it up. I covered crime and this shit as a reporter, and heard it in court. There is no mystery here. Meyer is into child sex and likely was abused. Often.

(My response to any defense that Jacob-Renesemee’s love is platonic/chivalric now and only will grow later into sensual love: No. Director Bill Condon calling the love brotherly-sisterly … does not help. Liar. Even Lautner apparently hated the material, so he says.) 

Sure Bella gets rightly angry when she first hears of this hook up, she goes after Jacob, but, hey, she’s eventually submissive again, them men tell her heel and she does, and this is Myers, and by the climax, Bella is ready to send off child daughter to live with the man of her destiny, her protector, in secret. A true Meyer woman. 

Hell with this. Hell with it. I hate this film. And every message of submission. Child sexual abuse. Prepping girl brides for marriage to older men. None of this is an accident.

As I write, I fume again, I’ll quit. So, yes, the clean camera work by cinematographer Guillermo Navarro stuns, the best work of the franchise, and near any film in 2012. I also had a riotous laugh fest with a long battle royale near the film’s end which is neither a battle, nor a royale, as good guys and bad guys literally rip off each other’s heads in some not-semi-serious fashion that recalls Monty Python at its daftest. It’s really awful. 

Fitting. Heads should roll for this ugly, offensive series of films. This is vile shit, upping child molesters, making controlling abusive men romantic. I cannot believe I watched. The most dmaging to women and children Hollywood franchise ever made, and every film a hit. Maybe it America goes all right-wing, Bible-thumper, it will be more popular. F

Dark Shadows (2012)

Are there two men more likely soul mates than actor Johnny Depp and director Tim Burton? Can there be any doubt these guys make their films first for each other, us second. “Dark Shadows” is a prime example: A supernatural off-kilter oddball of cinema, and a mash letter/ homage to a cult hit TV series that Depp and Burton adored 40 years ago. If it only worked, if only the film had an air about it more substantial than the feeling Depp and Burton are really saying, “You need to see this show!” Well, why not the movie? 

The story: Barnabas Collins is the son of a wealthy fishing magnate in 1760s America who spurns his housemaid f-buddy (Eva Green) for his true love Josette (Bella Heathcote) – to eternal punishment, for the angry lady, Angelique, is hell in heels, a witch with an endless temper. She kills Barnabas’ family and his true love, and then makes him a vampire, cursed for eternity, before locking his ass in a coffin for 196 years. Ouch. Rocket to 1972, and a newly released Barnabas finds himself in the timeline of Nixon, Karen Carpenter, and lava lamps. Angelique awaits, rich and powerful, lording over the Collins heirs (led by Michele Pfeiffer, wonderfully sour). 

It’s all ripe for satire, culture jokes and hippie-munching humor, and we get all that, but we don’t get enough of the tragic romance, the eternal desire Barnabus has for his lost love, Josette, and her 1972 reincarnation, Victoria. Yes, there’s a reincarnation. During the climatic “Death Becomes Her”-riffing battle that $100 million budgets can buy, I barely noticed, and the film barely acknowledges, the long absences of the lady who unwittingly started it all. Oh, wait, there she is! At the end! Sigh. 

Depp – once again in chalky white makeup and creepy black wig, his signature Burton look -- is perfect in the lead role of Barnabas, slowly rolling his fangs around every word, gesture and arched eyebrow. He makes his vamp into a gentleman in line with the great dapper vampire Christopher Lee (who has a cameo), but one vexed by Eggo waffles and Steve Miller Band song lyrics. 

A huge part of me wished Burton, Depp, and screenwriter Seth Grahame-Smith (author of “Pride, Prejudice and Zombies”) had gone for a grisly, out-of-control hard R, ala “Sleepy Hollow,” a far darker comedy than this wink-wink lightweight romp can provide in a PG-13. Among the missed opportunities – besides sweet buckets of blood – is a cameo by ’70s shock rocker Alice Cooper, who Barnabas calls “the ugliest woman I never met.” Heh. Even the jokes are lodged in the 1970s. 

End note: I miss the Burton of “Beetlejuice” And “Edward Scissorhands.” Yeah, the special effects were (purposefully) cheap, but, damn, I left fulfilled with cinematic glory. The original show was all about cheapness, apparently, but this film spared no expense. For sets and makeup and special effects. Dime store story, though. Not Dark enough. B-