But, on the plus side for the movie's producers, the "Sex in the City"-plasticized, pseudo-studly, abnormally pumped-up, and just obscenely fake physicality of the two male leads is setting hearts aflame from Fire Island to Castro Street--a prime demographic for the "Twilight" series.
This unintentionally hilarious homo-erotic subtext was not lost upon the hostage male members of the audience as whenever the copious amounts of so-called "beefcake" flashed on-screen there was a very noticeable rise in the loudness of the boos, hoots and yells that emanated from all of the "regular guys" who were forced to accompany their starry-eyed dates to this wholly laughable waste of time and money.
That this film absolutely, criminally sucks is a grand understatement due to the slow, slow over-all sequencing of the key scenes, the gruesomely boring nature of the three main characters, and the weakly structured plot, that hardly qualifies as a plot at all.
Movies like this should come with a strongly worded caveat, something like: let the theater-goer beware.
I don't know if it was the god-awful effects of watching what was essentially a teen-oriented remake of the Three Stooges caught up in one of their bizarre love triangles, with a psycho-killer Shemp setting things up for a third installment--or the large-sized sack of stale popcorn that I wolfed down out of sheer boredom--but upon exiting the movie house I cut the longest, loudest fart of my life.
True, the characters play at being tough and macho, but they're clearly pretty boys pretending to be warriors. Apparently that isn't enough to persuade a real Indian activist.
For more on the subject, see Capsule Reviews of New Moon and LA Times Reviews New Moon.
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