Thanks to Twilight, we’re facing a period in which the supernatural triggers little more than profound ennui.
Twihards from the melancholic depths of the GTA and beyond, this must be a doozy of a week for you.
Breaking Dawn Part 2 has risen, thus completing the Twilight saga and closing the book on one of the most ubiquitous supernatural franchises ever. Powered by Robert Pattinson’s pouty face and Kristen Stewart’s wooden gaze, the movies alone have grossed more than $2.5 billion. Factor in the books, coffee mugs, Edward Cullen Body Shimmer, and other vampiric accoutrements, and Twilight has raked in unfathomable profits.
But once the money is counted and Bella’s sorted out her supernatural baby dramz, perhaps it’s time we left teen-angsty vampires alone for a minute. I’m not saying we break up with vampires or anything, just maybe see other beings for a while…
On the shoulders of giants—Bram Stoker, Bela Lugosi, Hammer Horror Films, and Buffy among them, Twilight has made the vampire mythos about as frightening as the Vengaboys’ comeback, nixed the anxieties we’re supposed to project onto Transylvania’s best export (death, dying, being dead), and replaced them with milquetoast, self-involved romantic conundrums. In the mainstream, Twilight represents a tipping point: vampires have lost their cultural edge—at least temporarily. We’re facing a period in which the supernatural triggers little more than profound ennui.
When that happens, when the scariest thing vampires threaten us with is boredom, where—and how—will we project our anxieties? Will we become a world full of glassy-eyed neurotics wrapped in crushed black velvet? It’s a distinct possibility. For now, let’s dance on Twilight’s grave and preoccupy ourselves with Honey Boo Boo, Guy Fieri, and Chris Brown—you know, pop culture’s truly terrifying monsters.
