I’ve always been a fan of Kevin Smith’s movies, but the man has also made a brilliant side career out of making appearances and just talking to people. The man can pontificate like no other.
So in honor of the New Moon inspired Twilightapalooza here at Insert Credits featuring Erron and I ripping the series apart and Chelsey defending it, I bring you Kevin Smith talking about New Moon. Enjoy.
Today marks the launch of our third podcast here at Insert Credits: Book and Film. In this podcast we’ll take fifteen minutes each week to look at the differences and similarities between a book, usually the one featured on the Bookcast, and any movies that have been based on that book.
In this week’s episode we continue our focus on Twilight in anticipation of the release of New Moon next week. Insert Credits staffers appearing this week include:
Andrew: Who hasn’t seen the movie but has read the book and didn’t like it.
Chelsey: Who has read the book and loved it and seen the movie but hated it.
Erron: Who hasn’t read the book but has seen the movie and hated it.
It promises to be an interesting week as we duke it out over the merits of the series and where they went wrong with the movie adaptation. If you’re reading this article from the main site then you can listen to the podcast in the player below or click the download link. You can also point your podcatching software of choice to the Book and Film feed.
Podcast (bookandfilm): Play in new window | Download
Today we have the second of the three new podcasts promised this week. Bookcast will be appearing weekly and will feature both myself and Chelsey Kalbach, the newest addition to the Insert Credits staff, with an occasional visit from Erron as well. Books featured on the Bookcast will also usually show up in the third new podcast of the week, Book and Film, which I’ll be posting tomorrow.
This week’s bookcast focuses on Twilight, the series that’s launched a billion ships. Chelsey loves the series. I loathe it. We talk about the sharp gender line between love and hate, Stephanie Meyer’s writing talents (or lack thereof), Edward’s borderline abusive handling of the main romance, and whether or not Bella is actually a Canon Sue. You can listen to the podcast in this post below or point your podcatching software of choice to the Bookcast feed.
Podcast (bookcast): Play in new window | Download
Even Dick Cheney would agree that this book qualifies as torture.
I’ve been intermittently reading Twilight lately mostly because I don’t feel right qbout showering a book with scorn and disdain without reading through it at least once. Throughout this slog through the literary sewer I find myself repeatedly perplexed by Edward, our dark and mysterious borderline-abusive vampire hero who flip-flops between loving and hating Bella, the vapid vessel for the hopes and dreams of lonely women the world over who seem to be Twilight’s sustaining demographic.
Then I got to the second big reveal of the book, the first being, surprise surprise, that Edward is a vampire. The second reveal was big. The second reveal was dumb. And it also explained away all of the silly angst that passes for dramatic tension in this horrible affront to the written word.
It seems that there are particular humans who are an irresistable taste sensation for particular vampires, and it just so happens that Bella is Edward’s idea of the perfect snack. Except he also loves her and has to resist the urge to treat her like an all-you-can-eat buffet long enough to marry her and bone her. And we’re not going to do that in the out-of-order fashion so typical of today’s youth because the Twilight series doubles as a soapbox for Stephanie Meyer’s Mormon-tinged belief on the sanctity of marriage and the evils of pre-marital sex. This from a religion that only gave up polygamy as a condition of joining the United States. But I digress.
For some reason this scenario doesn’t seem remotely ridiculous to the average Twilight fan, so I’m going to try and frame this ridiculous plot device in terms that might be slightly more understandable to someone who thinks dayglo skin is a nifty new take on vampire mythology.
Imagine that Twinkies are my favorite food, but I’ve sworn off the things because they have a tendency to make me look fat. Twinkies are strictly an item to be messily devoured, and I certainly don’t have any ethical issues since I’m just a predator stalking my prey in the snack cake aisle of the local supermarket so I can eat. The relationship is simple enough at this point.
Now imagine that my family has decided that Twinkies are sentient and as such it’s morally reprehensible to hunt and kill them for sustenance when there are plenty of non-sentient alternatives. Sound stupid yet? I’m just getting started. The desire to eat the world’s only foodstuff guaranteed to survive a nuclear apocalypse is still there, but I can tide myself over by eating inferior snack cakes like Star Crunch or Nutty Bars.
You dirty girl.
Except one day a Twinkie comes along that is so gosh-darn perfect in every way that I immediately fall in love with it. Suddenly I’m faced with the dilemma of whether I should eat the Twinkie or explore my newfound feelings by making sweet sweet love to the Twinkie. My life becomes non-stop torture as I try to ignore the Twinkie by hunting other less satisfying snack cakes at other supermarkets in upstate Washington where I’m in no danger of hurting the Twinkie, but I’m still obsessed enough that I spend every night in the local supermarket’s snack aisle staring at the Twinkie and imagining all the things I’d like to do with it.
Does that sound even more stupid? It should.
The bestest most perfect couple since they invented love.
I can understand why Twilight is so popular amongst the tween crowd. It maintains a perfect blend of angst and vapid romance that could only appeal to someone who is essentially a walking talking bundle of hormones with absolutely no idea of how a relationship is supposed to work between two people who are in love. But for anyone over the age of fifteen who thinks Twilight is the niftiest thing since sliced bread: please, think of the Twinkie.
None
Worldwar: In the Balance by Harry Turtledove
