Dark, gripping and provoking: The trailer almost duped me. But, as they say, the devils were in the details.
Where do I begin: Robert Pattinson’s distracting, over-the-top make-up? Kristen Stewart’s annoying facial antics (someone tell her to relax that freaking mouth! Calling Ms. Tyra Banks to demonstrate the trick!)? The ensemble’s sophomoric, one-dimensional acting? The dragging and sleep-inducing first few scenes? Or the irrelevant soundtrack?
But flaws are inconsequential when the oh-so-potent tween power salvages to the rescue making Twilight saga a crazy global phenomenon. They mobbed to the theater oblivious of the long queue and mostly, by sheer force, they dictate the decibel sound in the theater. When Bella and Edward kissed, they shrilled. When Edward took off his shirt, they squealed like hell. And the kicker: When Jacob flaunted those sculpted muscles (my erstwhile Convergys’ colleague, Macon, surmised the steroids did the wonder), the collective shriek almost lasted like an eternity.
New Moon’s Achilles’ heel lies on its clichéd-ness. Its run-of-the-mill plot is devoid of depth and substance. Watching it was an insufferable ordeal through and through. But nothing could be further from the truth: in times of a post-global crisis, we do not need “grainy, rasping, and bleak” (to quote Newsweek’s Joshua Levine) movies, we need a good kick, no-brainer film. And if watching it is your way of unwinding after a weeklong of a mentally strenuous job, fleetingly, New Moon sucks you out from the void and whets your appetite!
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