I recently found myself in one of those arguments that I’m convinced every book-reading or movie-viewing American has at one point been involved in: arguing the merits of Twilight. And it got me thinking about Bella’s bed—in the fifth and final movie her and Edward retreat to their cabin cottage and end up next to a big, designer-chic bed, a bed which explicitly and cringingly is meant for one thing and one thing only—and seeing this piece of furniture got me wondering about love and marriage, but not for the reasons you’re maybe thinking. Let me explain.
The Twilight Argument happened with a group of friends at a bar, discussing literature because sometimes literature is what I have in common with people. The topic of Twilight came up, as it somehow inevitably does. Full disclosure: I’ve read all four books at least twice, and seen the movies countless times. I feel your judgment. Judge. Get it over with. Feel the waves radiate like an army of Slinkys. You are a child of the universe. Now, let’s move on.
I understand I am late to the game in voicing my opinions about The Cabin in the Woods. The movie has already been picked apart by seemingly all forms of essayistic expression by fanatics and haters alike, or been subjected to the looping rhetoric of reviewers who wish to talk without ever really saying anything. For me, a die-hard horrorphile, someone who truly believes horror cinema is among the most difficult of all artistic expression, this movie required a cool-down period, a releasing of the steam coming out of my ears, before I could allow myself to write one word about it. Cabin was released April 13, 2012 (a Friday), almost exactly 29 years after the first Evil Dead movie. In Evil Dead, five college-aged friends travel to a mysterious cabin in the middle of unpopulated woods, and unknowingly release an evil entity. The movie changed the genre, and arguably the Hollywood big-budget business model for profitable filmmaking. As 28 Days Later was followed by Shaun of the Dead, as Scream was followed by Scary Movie, so too has the teenagers-in-the-woods plotline reached the point of parody.
I understand that you shouldn’t choose a house because you like the blue paint in the downstairs bathroom. I understand the fleeting nature of wallpaper and that fixtures are a dime-a-dozen. I understand that dog smell will move with the owners and that the ugly bush covering the bay windows can be dug up. I understand that to appear on House Hunters, you need not understand these things. The folks …continue…