Twilight saga: new moon

It is too much to hope that The Twilight Saga might die a natural death soon. Alas, vampires and werewolves do not die. They are such very unhappy creatures, doomed to an endless eternity of red-irised eyes, gnashing teeth, vacant expressions and mercurial tempers.

Perhaps theirs is also the state of mind that afflicts teenagers and middle-aged teenagers-at-heart. But can that alone explain the phenomenal success of the book series that inspired the even more successful movies? The saga's second installment (2009), New Moon, has grossed US$300 million at the North American box office alone, its opening day's take broke all previous records, and its is the least expensive production to ever earn more than US$200 million.

It seemed fair, having ignored the debut movie, to see what all the fuss is about. As suspected, nothing much. It's a chick flick with enough violence to keep guys amused while they hold their chicks' hands over the popcorn bins.

A mediocre 20-year-old actress who looks 30-something is supposed to be 18 (Kristen Panic Room Stewart). She is moping mournfully because she'd apparently been abandoned by her first movie's vampire lover, a deadpan youngish (born 1986) British actor (Robert Pattinson). He first came to female moviegoers' attention in the Harry Potter films, in which his Cedric was an awfully nice prefect who was killed off.

For his second Twilight outing, Pattinson looks close to death, very ill and well over 30-something, and is shown to have lousy taste in red lipstick and skin whitener. He's getting chubby too. But Bella, the maternal sister-figure, still loves him. Until one of the best-developed 17-year-old bodies in the history of Hollywood reappears beside her. Do teenagers care if former child actor-cum-martial artist Taylor Lautner couldn't upgrade his unprepossessing face?

He rarely wears a shirt, sports the waistband of his one pair of blue undies, and is, naturally, a werewolf, the dreadful foe of vampires. He has a quartet of tribal blood brothers, none of whom matches his physical development although their ham acting of ham dialogue does have more vivacity than his.

When they get upset, they turn into excellent CGI representations of snarling werewolves. Less attractively, the vampires can only fly fast and furiously, smashing marble floors with their bare hands. Unfortunately for the stars, some of the vampires are portrayed by really talented actors able to project nasty thoughts even via red irises. The appearance fees must have been handsome for talents such as the UK's Martin Sheen and the US's Dakota Fanning to let casting directors seduce them.

Similar financial inducement must have persuaded Chris Weitz to employ his directorial skills on the woefully wooden script. Weitz did well (with his brother Paul) from creating the American Pie series, can be a credible actor (Chuck and Buck) and has retrieved his Hollywood cred after directing the Golden Compass flop. His New Moon has pleasant aerial shots, its SFX are top-notch, and he was probably ordered to stretch the slim plot into 121 minutes of popcorn sales.

A third director is at work on the third movie installment, Eclipse. All three former child-actor stars return. Everybody's earning lots of money. And lots of chicks will be happy again, pecking at their popcorn, dreaming of being ravished by a wolf with sharp teeth.