Mr. Darcy + fangs = Edward Cullen

Since the time of Jane Austen, women have secretly pondered the question: can I really fall in love with a fictional man? Take Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice as an example. He's handsome, wealthy, intelligent, and ultimately very considerate and sweet, although his exterior is mansome and manly and cold. Really, the only thing he doesn't have going for him is the fact that he's fictional. The modern-day answer to Mr. Darcy is a lad named Edward Cullen, the product of a Mormon matron's smutty literary daydream, the Twilight series. Aside from the obvious dwindling in quality, the phenomenon of the fictional crush has transformed in such a way that the man for whom we pine seems even more unattainable: not only is he NOT REAL, he is also UNDEAD. Meaning that there's absolutely ZERO chance of there somehow being a man just like Edward somewhere out there in the wide world, seeing as how...well, vampires aren't real.

If you happen to be unfamiliar with the Twilight books, the first of which has just been adapted to the big screen, it can best be described as a reminder to all women of what real-life men are lacking. Let me break it down: gloomy emo girl goes to new school in cloudy place. Hot vampire boy is irrevocably drawn to her. Gloomy emo girl and hot vampire boy fall in love. Hot vampire boy happens to be a conscientious, vegetarian, un-homicidal sort. Bad vamps show up; attempt to kill slightly-less-gloomy-than-before emo girl. Hot vampire boy saves day.

I had the dubious pleasure of attending a midnight showing of the film, along with what felt like forty thousand females of varying ages. The power that this entirely fictional character wields over women could not be more evident than it was when Robert Pattinson, unfairly pretty and brooding as Edward, sauntered on screen to the tune of cheers, catcalls, and whoops from the audience. From that point on, the masses seemed to be overcome by a two-hour bout of uncontrollable giggles.

The plot of Meyer's book is flawed and poorly developed, but the character of Edward is wonderfully vivid and entrancing. By some stroke of sheer luck, Pattinson's portrayal of such a character, one who is very dear to the readers' hearts, is more than halfway decent. He sports an extraordinarily clear complexion, a startlingly intense gaze, and a vampirish heart of gold with style and supreme panty-melting prowess.

It really is unfortunate that such a character can never even be compared with real-life men, especially if you are a woman who happens to be perpetually disgruntled, like myself. While the film was bad enough to pass for an SNL spoof (I actually half-expected to discover that it was actually Tina Fey playing Bella), I couldn't help but enjoy the transient fantasy of a perfect boyfriend. The bar just keeps getting higher and higher, so much so that it seems highly likely that I will end up as an old woman with lots of cats and/or exotic birds, rather than a woman somewhat happily married to a standard, run-of-the-mill mortal boor.

Twilight
1/5 stars

Is chauvinism dead?

I'm usually not a huge fan of chauvinism, or of violence, or of material excess, but, as these are some of the defining components of the James Bond films, I've learned to cope with them.

Bond is supposed to be a bad ass. I think we can all agree on that, no? He's also not supposed to get so damn involved, emotionally speaking. That's the beauty of this character: he's NOT REALISTIC. He doesn't get caught up with those pesky feelings that plague the rest of us. In real life, people die and other people grieve. In James Bond's life, people die and Bond lights a cig and moves on. The sheer bravado and lack of realism of the Bond films make them perfect escapist fantasy. When life gets us down, we can watch Bond kick ass, take names, and fuck the hottie. And we feel better, at least momentarily.

Although Bond kicks ass in Quantum of Solace, he doesn't exactly take names and he most certainly doesn't fuck the hottie. QOS Bond is a dreary, sullen, depressed insomniac with no sex drive. Even his ass-kicking is mechanical and lackluster. And it's not Daniel Craig's fault! Nor is it necessarily Marc Forster's fault. It's the fault of a dull story bogged down with sentimentality and poorly-placed vengeance. Vengeance does not belong in a Bond film, nor does sentimentality. Yet those two things appear to be the driving forces behind the entire plot of QOS.

Okay, I get that Bond's OTL was supposed to be Vesper Lynd. Can't we just establish that and move on? Must we burden ourselves with Bond's endless pining for the dead girlfriend? What happened to the dark, punchy, cheesy humour? What happened to the complex, intrigue-laden conspiracies, full of Russians and coups and decoys and assassins? What happened to Bond bedding every bit of skirt that crosses his path? WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SWEET CARS?? After the Aston-Martin's brief appearance, the only car we see Bond in is A FORD MINIVAN. Yes, a minivan. Bond has been completely uncooled.

I will say this for QOS Bond: he wears a mean half-zip track jacket. I like my JB best in a tux, but I respect a man who can wear a track jacket with such style and aplomb.

I've never been a champion for mansome manliness in movies (with the exception of 300), but Bond is supposed to be the epitome of masculine cool. He should embody everything that most (read: all) regular men are not: good-looking, stylish, charming, intelligent, physically fit, competent, calm, collected, unfeeling, sexually adroit, and indestructible. So when he's not all of those things, he's, well...lame.


Quantum of Solace
2/5 stars
Whomp whomp.