This morning Heather and I braved UA Court Street for the second Saturday in a row to see the new Twilight movie, New Moon. I don't believe in guilty pleasures, I just have really low (some would say nonexistent) standards and I'm going to speak for Heather and say she is as totally into this sparkly, Mormon vampire stuff as I am. Not surprisingly, we were the creepy old married ladies in a Gen Y sea; that is until a lone, bald gentleman showed up who I'm guessing was just there for the Taylor Lautner Gun Show. More surprising was the amount of tag along boyfriends. As I said to Heather, I am 100% confident Chris loves me and would do anything for me, so long as anything never included going to see this movie. I suppose the difference is that he already knows I will sleep with him and does not have to resort to emo-related lies and trickery.
The movie was...to begin with, the opening credit was of a new moon. Ohhhh, I see what we're in for here. But, as Heather said, do not question our commitment to SparkleVampire Motion. Lush, dewy foliage? Foggy, rainswept vistas? Pale consternation? Breathy declarations of devotion? Cramps of lost love? Underage abs of desire? All There.
My favorite old parts were there: Edward, graduate of the Joey Tribbiani School of Smell the Fart Acting; Jasper, bastard vampire child of Nic Cage and Crispin Glover and, of course, Bella, the clumsy, empty-headed, swan-who-thinks-she's-an-ugly-duckling.
And my favorite new part was there: Jacob.
One of the many scenes where Bella hurts herself involves Jacob assuring her a little blood is no problem then, needing something to wipe her face, whipping off his shirt. The audience gasped as one - even the boyfriends! - then burst into applause. This was at 11 o'clock in the morning. You can take your guilty pleasures and stuff them in a sack. That was fun.