10 Years On, I Still Love Twilight
It’s officially been ten years since the adaptation of Stephenie Meyer’s supernatural young adult romance between Bella Swan and vampire Edward Cullen was released in theatres, solidifying its position as one of the publishing industries most lucrative entertainment franchises to date. We now sit arm’s length from the grasp of Twilight mania, and the subsequent “sparkling in the sun is stupid”, “Bella should smile more” and “vampires are gay” retaliation — it was 2008 — to reminisce on the reception of the film, and to acknowledge that it was at its core, fundamentally sexist.
Think about it. Why is it that Twilight grosses an immense level of cultural criticism for falling short of a high brow status it never claimed? Meanwhile, arguably unintelligent films tailored to the tastes of the adolescent male; guns blazing, superhero-studded and full of video game level dialogue are written off as devoid of subplot but a fun ride nonetheless.
The collective cultural disdain directed at teenage girls and the media they consume is something I was far from immune to. Coming of age at the height of The Twilight Saga, my intrigue in the vampire series was dismantled as fundamentally stupid and unworthy of male validation. Surprisingly, this was directed less from serious film critics and more so from adolescent men, using all their internet bandwidth to question the audacity for a franchise to target an audience beside themselves.
Hating on popular entertainment has always held a certain allure. But in 2008, jumping on the “I hate Twilight” train made you seem instantly cooler. Just ask President Trump, who tweeted eleven times during the premier period for Breaking Dawn: Part 2 about the off-screen love affair between Kristen Stewart (Bella) and Robert Pattinson (Edward).
Worse still, many of my friends who loved the movies at first came to publicly “hate” them after being criticised relentlessly by high school boys who’d made the cut as potential future boyfriends.
Still a better love story than Twilight?
Female audiences distanced themselves from Twilight in much the same way as they vocally expressed hatred towards the colour pink; isolating themselves from things typically associated with being feminine to subconsciously avoid sexism. It makes me sad looking back at how this internalised misogyny prompted my friends to renounce the series as lame out of rejection to being affiliated with the image of the stupid teenage girl with the dedicated Cullen-fuelled fan account. Meanwhile, the oversaturated marketplace of films pandered to teenage boys flew under the radar, escaping the same degree of shame, backlash and unwanted opinions.
In my second week as a screenwriting undergrad, I learned the prevailing wisdom amongst Hollywood stands that franchises catered to the 13-year-old male demographic produce maximum box-office revenue. Reaffirming this consensus, the saga’s screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg stated “Prior to Twilight you would have tentpole movies for all 13-year-old boys. They were driving box office”. Perhaps this is why the budget for the first installment stood at just 37 million dollars, a comparatively small feat beside the 200 million dollar figures awarded to competitive supernatural films showing that year.
With great surprise to Hollywood executives (and no surprise at all from the book’s loyal readership), the breakout film Twilight grossed $393 million dollars globally, shutting down the near-constant stream of whispers that female-led franchises flop, simply by virtue of their exclusion of male audiences. According to director Catherine Hardwicke;
“The expectations were low literally up to opening weekend… Why do you think they hired a female director? If they thought it was going to be a big blockbuster, they wouldn’t have ever even hired me, because no woman has ever been hired to do something in the blockbuster category.”
In addition to the millions capitalised on Team Edward versus Team Jacob merchandise (a lucrative side effect of establishing one of the most forced love triangles in cinematic history), Twilight became a pioneering film; finally awakening Hollywood to teenage girls as a viable consumer base for a franchise. Meanwhile, keeping the door to the entertainment industry’s man cave ajar for future female directors and screenwriters.
At the same time, it would be arbitrary to ignore the many critiques highlighting Twilight’s flaws. Yes, Stephanie Meyer was undoubtedly influenced by her Mormon faith through 109-year-old virginal Edward and his perception of Bella as “some kind of villain trying to steal [his] virtue” — her words, not mine. Likewise, the strong anti-abortion message projected in the final installment Breaking Dawn: Abortion is never O.K. apparently. Even when a monster vampire spawn tries to eat itself out of its mother’s womb. And yes, Native America culture, particularly the real Quileute tribe of Washington state the werewolves are based on, was appropriated by Meyer with little ability to reclaim culture and traditions that have now been forever misread. Clearly not all female media is thoroughly self-aware. I didn’t say Twilight was perfect after all, just that it was pioneering.
Ten years ago, in an unrecognisable pre-vampire decade of Hollywood’s past, producers never took a chance on fantasies catered to young female audiences, underestimating both the financial potential and cultural impact of doing so. Not only was Twilight, and its subsequent installments; New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn: Part 1 and 2, a phenomenon that brought vampires ironically back from the dead, their legacy green-lighted the future production of female-centric franchises with strong and heroic protagonists that young women could be proud of. The Hunger Games and Divergent series’, both of which sustained overnight success and cult followings, are indebted to the overwhelming success forged by The Twilight Saga before them.
Even the previously off-limits domain of comic-book superhero franchises, which previously shut out female leads were suddenly in the works. Most notable is Patty Jenkins’ 2017 adaptation of Wonder Woman, which bravely beckons, what if a female-led superhero movie wasn’t complete garbage from start to finish?
What is the reason for the shortage of female-led franchises in Hollywood? Is it that everyone slips unquestionably into the shoes of a male protagonist, while men unwillingly refuse to envision themselves in the mind of a female lead? After all, the unspoken Hollywood rule-of-thumb has always been “girls will see boys’ movies, but boys won’t watch girls’ movies”. The consequence is an industry that caters film after film to the male demographic while starving its female audiences of the same entertainment and joy. When I hear the immense criticism directed at Twilight’s impressionable fan base, and towards its protagonist, Bella Swan, for not conforming to the outwardly guns blazing, I am woman, hear me roar mold; consider this. In 2008, teenage girls were so starved for a movie series catered to our entertainment, we clung to whatever we were given.
Attitudes suggesting that women are treated as second-class filmgoers are still omnipresent. Author of the acclaimed Harry Potter series; J.K. Rowling admitted that her initials were used as her pen name, as opposed to the expected Joanne Rowling to disguise her status as a female writer. Simply put, so that her books would appeal to all genders. In an industry caught in an undertow of systemic sexism, where men are taught that women’s stories are undeserving of consumption and women are taught to hide their gender to thrive professionally, Stephanie Meyer unabashedly announced that she was Stephenie, not S. Meyer on the cover of her novels.
Is it not fundamentally insulting to assume that a series made so specifically for female attention needs exterior validation from men as well? Twilight isn’t for everyone, because it wasn’t intended to be. Considering the five blockbuster films attract an 80 percent female audience, the appeal largely rests with the protagonist; Bella Swan, who is not demoted to a nameless girlfriend or tokenised as a prized sex symbol, but instead the central narrator whose choices determine the entire course of the plot. Twilight reverses the typical Hollywood narrative where the woman ceases to exist outside of the male gaze. This dichotomy is flipped so that the male leads; Edward (Robert Pattinson) and Jacob (Taylor Lautner) fulfil the role of the sidelined love interests.
At thirteen I not immune to societal messages; to be thinner, prettier, in order to win the attention of men. But it wasn’t until Twilight that I recognised that men could be appealing to me. That I could be the one desiring rather than the objectified all the time.
Ten years after the release of Twilight, the Me Too movement bought to the surface this rampant boys club culture of harassment and abuse within the entertainment industry. Is it by surprise then that Twilight, a story written by a woman (Meyer), turned from novel to screenplay by a woman (Rosenberg), directed by a woman (Hardwicke), centering on a female lead (Stewart), and created intentionally for female audiences, was privy to such immense cultural disdain? And is it by coincidence that Twilight was criticised as a threat to modern literature, condemned as “the franchise that ate feminism” and god forbid, damned as the death of America’s conscience, while yet-another action movie sidelining beautiful women as disposable props was brushed over as sexy and satisfying to male audiences?
As society pushes now more than ever for a diversity of voices within Hollywood, whether this be female, black, Indigenous, trans or queer, the desire to feel represented on the big screen has never seemed so important. I know how it felt to be a part of the community that Summit’s five installments nurtured. The joy of gushing about each movie the whole drive home with my best friends is a rite of passage that should be afforded to all audiences. Not just those that Hollywood believes will rake in the highest profits. After all, Twilight proved that audiences that no-one dared take a chance on ten years ago can drive huge commercial and box office success.
Ultimately, it’s irrelevant if Twilight sends a strong feminist message, or you consider it empowering or hard-hitting or highbrow. My fourteenth birthday; deep in a theatre seat watching New Moon with my closest friends, many of whom fell by the wayside after disclosing their Team Jacob status, was filled with that palpable teenage energy in the air, the screams of the front row mum’s as Jacob’s shirt was ripped off, and the silence of the begrudging, selfless dads (we love you)! The character of Bella spoke to my teenage insecurities, allowed me a safe space to tread lightly into the world of romance, and made me feel seen by Hollywood. Ultimately, there is validity in the films that teenage girls enjoy. So men who are clearly not the intended target demographic need to quit weighing on how much they hate it. As a woman, it’s exhausting constantly having to defend the value of my own entertainment.
