Of the many pieces of popular culture today, few have enjoyed the broad success of the Twilight franchise. What began as four novels has grown into a multibillion dollar franchise and has gained the fascination of the multitudes. The tale of Edward, Bella, and the paranormal culture they live in shall not soon be forgotten.
When I first
watched Twilight in 2009, I walked
away with an overall dislike of the film, not because it was a romance with
vampires, but rather because I didn’t believe Twilight had the necessary caliber to be
considered quality media. It wasn’t until three years later
that I began watching Doctor Who and
started noticing an increasing number of holes in the vampire movie.
The root causes
for Twilight’s mediocrity are several. Primarily, the characters are shallow,
lacking the necessities of a compelling personality essential for a
developmental arc. While the Edward that expresses undying affection for Bella
gets screen time to no end, viewers get very little exposure to an Edward full
of personal flaws in need of correction. As Matt Inman of The Oatmeal wrote an intelligent article explaining how Twilight,
the book, works, Edward is the manifestation of perfection. This person, who
has excellent looks and superhuman abilities, cares exclusively for Bella, the
fumbling, awkward high school sophomore. But, for all of the time spent
depicting his positive qualities, very little is dedicated to fleshing out
Edward’s character flaws.
Maybe this was
due in part to inferior acting, but viewers are not given much to believe that
the vampires of Twilight are
creatures to be feared. Even though Edward explains to Bella that he is the
world’s most dangerous natural
predator, there is little else he contributes outside of that particular scene
to demonstrate that side. Never, while in a moment of coupled bliss, is Edward
shown struggling to stop his internal predator from devouring his love. Viewers
do not come to the realization that he is a savage time bomb whose bloodlust
for Bella puts her in increasingly greater danger with each passing day they
spend together, for that flawed characteristic is handed to them through unconvincing
exposition. And because the crucial element that could have made Edward a
complex character is so effortlessly handed out, the viewer is robbed of the
emotional experience that might have come with the revelation of what he truly
is.
As a result of
this wasted potential of character flaw, the relationship between Edward and
Bella suffers as a result. Instead of being a platform for character
development, their romance exists for the sake of itself. “Edward intensely listens to everything Pants [codename for an
under-characterized Bella] has to say, even if she's bitching about she had
diarrhea on Christmas or her preferred method for cutting a sandwich in half.” writes Inman in his article.
“As far as the reader is
concerned, Edward cares about nothing in the world more than Pants. What the
author has done is created a perfect male figure - a pale Greek statue which
the reader can worship and in turn be worshipped by.”
This relationship
could have been a springboard for a variety of social topics, much like what
George Romero did with the zombie genre. Given that Edward is over a century
old and Bella is sixteen, Twilight
could have easily addressed the topic of pedophilia, either as an in-story
conflict or as a social message. Yet, nobody, either human or vampire, ever
questions their difference in age. Meanwhile, Edward and Bella spend the night
cuddling in her bedroom.
As with the
pedophilia, the film could have made an excellent commentary theorizing what
might happen when an immortal vampire falls in love with a normal human.
Eventually, Bella would have be torn from Edward by the hands of Death while
the vampire lived on in perpetual youth. Additionally, the movie could have
enhanced this theme with the implication that Edward could have had several
lovers throughout his lifetime due to his immortality, each meeting the same
fate Bella would have to inevitably face.
In general, the
Cullen family doesn’t seem to be managing
their immortality very well. Having enhanced speed and strength along with
telepathy and the ability to tell the future, not to mention outstanding
physical looks, tremendously increased the Cullen family’s opportunities to achieve anything they wished, and with
immortality, they had an unlimited amount of time, an incredible resource
itself. Yet, of all the career paths available, they chose to continuously
repeat high school. Unless the family had a particular interest in free
education, this seems to be a waste of time and resources. Considering this
logic hole, Twilight thus seems to
adopt a Panglossian logic; if Edward had not repeated high school dozens of
times, he would not have met Bella, the love of his life.
Ultimately, Twilight is literarily bankrupt. The
plot finds entertainment value in an unrealistic version of high school romance
while neglecting those elements which would have made the story more worthwhile
of the viewers’ time.
Meanwhile, Doctor Who excels where Twilight fell short. The story is
populated by fleshed-out characters who build upon each other for development.
The Doctor, a charming, enigmatic Time Lord, takes viewers on a journey
spanning all periods of time, encountering exotic creatures, notable historical
figures, and ideological extremists; and showing the vast expanse of the
universe. At their cores, Twilight
and Doctor Who share a similar
premise: a normal girl meets extraordinary man who changes her life
forever. However, the approach each
production takes is vastly different. While Twilight
focuses on the relationship of that premise, Doctor Who, much in part to the brilliant writing done by Russell
T. Davies, puts an emphasis on populating its universe with fully developed
characters, which in turn makes for a more fulfilling story.
By far the most
powerful theme present is irony. Like Edward, the Doctor is powerful. Being a Time Lord, the Doctor is universally
acknowledged as a part of one of the greatest races that have existed, and as a
result carries considerable influence wherever he travels. But unlike Edward,
the Time Lord has an outgoing, conspicuous personality and conveys an overall
likability. His compassion toward the human race puts him in danger on a
regular basis, but he shows undying loyalty for his companions as he shows them
the expanse of the universe and beyond.
However, his
jovial attitude and antics are not wholly without motive, for the Doctor
possess his share of negative qualities. Despite all of the variety of life the
universe has to show, the inescapable fact remains that he is the last of his
kind, another major theme in Doctor Who. Below the smile and underneath the charm, The
Doctor is an individual haunted by a war that drove his species into
extinction. No matter where he flies or how far back or forward into time he
goes, he can never escape the ever-present loneliness.
Thus is why he
chooses to bring people along for his journey; he is a character who needs
company. Each of the Doctor’s companions has their
own their own three-dimensional personality with a believable background. Rose
was working as a department store clerk, living with her widowed mother. Martha
was a medical student amidst a dysfunctional family going through a
drama-charged affair. Donna lived a completely superficial life whose height of
existence was the new yogurt flavor or the latest reality show. For these
women, the Doctor provides an escape from the hum drum of reality to an
extraordinary tour of the cosmos, experiencing adventures that the rest of
Planet Earth could never hope to have.
Yet, as amazing
as the journey is, the show constantly reminds viewers that the adventures have
to, and inevitably will, come to an end. The inherent danger of travel in the
TARDIS cannot last, and the companions become burned as a result of standing
too close for too long next to the fire that is the Doctor. Never is the
question if these companions will meet their end, but rather when. Rose gets
trapped in a parallel universe, unable to reunite with the Doctor. Martha grew
fond of him during their travels, but he never showed indication of likewise,
prompting her eventual departure. While saving the universe, Donna gained the
mind of a Time Lord, but such a consciousness could not exist within a human
brain, and the Doctor had to resort to wiping all her memory of him. This is
the irony found in Davie’s Doctor Who. No matter how wonderful, how fantastic a journey with
the Doctor is, the voyage always comes to an unfortunate end, leaving the Time
Lord once again alone.
Qualities like
these are what make Doctor Who
superior to Twilight. The Doctor and his companions are more
compelling than Edward and Bella could be, the more talented writing provides a
more interesting, solid plot, and the acting talents of David Tennant and Matt
Smith (who played the 10th and 11th Doctors, respectively) surpass what Robert
Pattinson did with his character. Should someone decide to rewrite the Twilight Saga long after we all are dead
and the copyright has expired, putting the books into the free domain, he
should take notes from the man in the blue police box, and maybe Twilight will one day be accepted as
quality literature.
Game and Christianity are held to be at odds for three reasons.
1. Individual interpretation. While Christianity is a fairly straightforward set of "I believe" principles made explicit in the Nicene Creed, game is largely an empty vessel into which enlightened chumps pour their frustrations. So you get citations of Roissy's Poon Commandments for lack of a formal dogma, and they are set against uneducated assertions of what constitutes proper Christianity (a confusion resident in that insipid neologism "Churchianity," another all-things-to-all-people term).
As a result, you will see monomaniacs like GBFM on Dalrock's site preaching sophistry about how his understanding of game is irreconcilable with his understanding of the church.
2. The proper use of power. Game narrowly understood as evolutionary psychology deployed for the purposes of promiscuity has the greatest currency on the internet. Of course it does; "game" (what used to be known as savoir-faire, aplomb, suavity, confidence, mastery, sangfroid) and the "alpha" attitude (what used to be known as manliness, leadership, and thumos) was first put into practice against modern feminism by pick-up artists, motivated by pussy. This is how revolutions in ideas proceed. They begin in dark corridors motivated by low passions, because it is the potential satiety of those passions which give them the courage to be transgressive against the prevailing regime. But eventually the ideas are refined when the initial courage reaches enough of critical mass for it to be expressed openly, more generally, and without fear of reprisal. For a while euphemism and "dark arts" and samizdat are essential.
But, as in all matters, the Christian is suspicious of the use of power, though not allergic to it. Game is the first hint of a new, paradigm-shifting power, distinguished by its application to picking up drunk coeds. Since its modern rediscovery is rooted in the pussy pursuit, the cunt hunt is regarded as central to the creed. The Christian is enjoined not to sin, but he is not prohibited from wielding power. So the Christian will have disagreements about the ends to which game power should be applied, particularly since the undisciplined endless tail-chase of better orgasms is unworthy of an incipient power with the capacity to fell the cultural tyranny of our age, feminism.
This Christian approach leads to disagreement and confusion about whether the power of game is at odds with Christianity itself. But there is no contradiction between Christians wielding game for righteous purposes any more than there is between Christians wielding firearms in a just cause. That said, ignoramuses on both sides will insist on an eternal incompatibility.