Welcome to Twilight Tuesdays!

When I was young, Entertainment Weekly covers were my Paul Revere. As a sheltered kid growing up in Texas, the front of these magazines charged out into the night to give me a first warning of “This major pop culture property is coming! This major pop culture property is coming!" Even someone like me, kept from R-rated movies until I was 16, could understand what was hot and not thanks to Entertainment Weekly.

Naturally, the 20 Entertainment Weekly Twilight covers instilled something deep in my mind about this franchise. “This isn’t just a movie,” 12-year-old Lisa thought. “This is an event.” The rampant popularity of these films and books became impossible to ignore and not just because of my favorite magazine. Once Twilight movies exploded in popularity, my middle school split into “Team Edward” and “Team Jacob” monikers. As an outside spectator, it was fascinating to witness. Everything around me had become Twilight-oriented nearly overnight.

Much like identifying yourself as “a Ringo” or “a Paul” was essential in the 60s, so too had these werewolves and vampires profoundly transcended their pop culture origins. No longer were these just longer fictional characters in Stephanie Meyer's books or big-screen movies. They were something much more meaningful.

At the time, of course, I didn’t appreciate that significance. Instead, I joined the internet jeering at women becoming obsessed with Bella or Edward. “Twilight is gay” was a common refrain on the web. Mockery over glittery vampires and shirtless werewolves peppered every late-night talk show. As late as 2020, my Horror Cinema professor inserted a joke into one of his earliest PowerPoint presentations about how Edward Cullent "is NOT a vampire!". Granted, this pervasive ridicule likely didn't hit the rich folks associated with this saga too much. The various Twilight artists dabbed their tears with hundred-dollar bills like Woody Harrelson in Zombieland over mocking refrains from YouTubers. Still, having zero interest in seeing these movies in theaters, these punchlines formed my foundational interest in Twilight. First, it was through reverent promotional Entertainment Weekly covers. Then it was through Facebook memes expressing incredulous over how "stupid" Edward Cullen was.

Finally, in October 2015, curiosity got the better of me. I had to know more about this universe than second-hand knowledge. Thanks to the Collin College library system, I took the plunge. I finally watched the two inaugural Twilight movies for the very first time. My initial impression of the productions was mostly indifference. I did like the stylized camera movements and vampire baseball scene in the first Twilight! Watched only seven years divorced from Twilight’s release (and only a trio of years since the saga concluded), there’s no way 19-year-old Lisa could consider how the title functioned as a time capsule of a specific pop culture era. I wasn’t far enough removed from 2008 to understand how Twilight encapsulated the time period.

Since New Moon was especially a slog to watch, I never watched the following three Twilight features. I moved on to other cinematic endeavors. This included watching everything from the top 50 titles on Sight & Sound’s 2012 Greatest Movie list to Frankenhooker to Drive My Car. At that time, my generation, which had clung to Twilight tightly in their teenage years, grew up. As I encountered more and more folks in my age range, I uncovered a familiar refrain from people assigned to female-at-birth when I asked them what their favorite movie was.

“Well, the Twilight movies, those are my comfort food” or “Twilight was my first special interest”. I’ve heard variations of those phrases countless times over the last few years.

What was once a go-to punchline in Smosh caption contests or absolutely dismal parody movies has evolved. Twilight is now for my generation what Brat Pack movies were for 80s teens. The cis-het fratboy joke of "Twilight is so gayyyy" has now been co-opted by leading lady Kirsten Stewart and countless queer fans as a positive thing. “You’re damn right this franchise is gay!” these people proclaim. Lengthy pieces of writing and video essays have unpacked the Twilight backlash, valid criticisms of the franchise (like its weird pro-life undertones, blech), and why this series of films got such brutal criticism when it came out. Kate Muir even penned a thoughtful 2018 The Guardian essay observing how Twilight paved the road for future women-anchored blockbusters.

Combine all that with 2008 teenagers becoming today's nostalgic 30-35-year-olds and Twilight's scored an inevitable rehabilitated reputation. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re on the cusp of a new generation of directors, especially queer ones from marginalized gender identities, referencing Twilight as the movie that got them interested in making motion pictures. The shadow cast by those vampires and werewolves has become quite extensive. That shadow extends far beyond Entertainment Weekly covers and internet punchlines.

With that in mind, I recently decided it was time. I’d started down the Twilight Saga road. Now I needed to finish the voyage. After all, I’ve seen a lot of motion pictures in my time. For God's sake, I witnessed Fifty Shades of Black, Nine Lives, and Arctic Dogs all on the big screen. Why not add the final three Twilight movies into the mix, especially given their enduring pop culture ubiquity? Plus, there was something inescapable annoying about having only seen the first two installments of a larger franchise. I have unresolved business here. It’s time to wrap up what I started.

Over the next three weeks, I’ll dedicate three consecutive Tuesdays (starting August 6, 2024) to Twilight Tuesdays. What will that entail? Breakdowns of The Twilight Saga: Eclipse and the two Breaking Dawn movies, of course! Each film will receive a standalone piece dissecting my feelings on the features. These won't just be standard movie reviews, though. I'll also pontificate on the larger pop culture impact of each sequel. There’s so much to examine in these films even beyond just their artistic virtues. Take Eclipse, for instance, the sole summertime Twilight feature. It only came out 19 months after the original Twilight took everyone by surpass as a smash hit. However, Eclipse arrived in theaters with a massive marketing spread that even included Burger King kid’s toys. In less than two years, Twilight had transformed from an underdog into a juggernaut standing toe-to-toe with summertime Marvel and Christopher Nolan features.

In the last near-decade, time has not exactly deepened my appreciation for those first two Twilight installments. New Moon, especially now stands out as an extra irritating boondoggle. Specifically, New Moon is emblematic of a troublesome trend in Hollywood. Other filmmakers who cracked seemingly impossible source material for movies (Sam Raimi, Peter Jackson, James Gunn, etc.) were handed multiple sequels without question. Their filmmaking blossomed and evolved in intriguing ways over multiple installments.

The same should've happened to Catherine Hardwicke. She committed herself to Twilight and turned it into a pop culture sensation. All this franchise's most iconic moments (the baseball scene, the blue color grading, the "I know what you are" scene) occurred under her execution. Naturally, when sequels rolled around, Chris Weitz and two other male directors took over. It’s an irritating development compounded by Weitz’s lifeless New Moon filmmaking compared to Hardwicke’s Twilight work.

Even those faults, though, leave me curious about delving deeper into the further Twilight adventures. After all, that’s the kind of artistic fault that didn’t crop up often in the initial late 2000s/early 2010s Twilight discourse. Contempt for anything teenage girls like drove a lot of the internet mockery. Nuanced explorations of the artistic intricacies of these projects were from people's minds. Hopefully, I'll explore those intricacies compellingly as I transform from a Twilight spectator to someone fully immersed in all corners of the franchise. You better hold on tight spider monkeys…Twilight Tuesdays are a-coming. New Twilight-themed Entertainment Weekly covers are, sadly, not included.