What an utter disappointment this week is turning out to be in movies. First the Chelsea drops "The Road" from their schedule entirely, after having had it slated for an opening on November 25 (they're notoriously poor planners in that regard). Then two of the most important living directors, Werner Herzog and Pedro Almodovar, release movies in limited markets that of course don't come to Chapel Hill. And to top it all off the three new wide releases this Friday are all over-hyped confirmations of convention that look mediocre at best and downright draining at worst.
On that note, I will take this opportunity to encourage you to go see "New Moon," the second movie installation in the "Twilight" series of vampire-hottie fantasies of sexual awakening for adolescent girls (and post-adolescent girls who I suppose still haven't sexually matured). It's wide release, so you can surely see it anywhere there are desperately single girls wishing that some strong, cold man would come around and suck their life-force out through their jugular. It's directed by Chris Weitz, who is returning from his critically-panned attempt at the first "Twilight" movie, and this one isn't looking much better. Weitz has had success in the past (my favorite film of his happens to be "Antz," and I also found his stab at the conceptually difficult "Golden Compass" to be admirable and under-rated), but it's unlikely that this will be counted as one of them. After all, what can you really do with a story whose linchpin is the principle that hot guys are hotter when they look like preter-natural underwear models?
Which begs the question: why am I encouraging you to go see this film? Well, you see, I'm not really. It's a joke. There just isn't anything actually worth writing about this week. Sad, huh?
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