Our first scene lasted 30 seconds, but it’s all we need to know about the film. Taylor Lautner’s Jacob Black is furious and he shows it by gnashing his teeth, taking off his shirt, and racing off into the forest. But see — that’s what Taylor Lautner is. He’s not an actor. He’s a six-pack of abs that has a limbs and a face attached to it, a mannequin whose talent peaks at not speaking. Like Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart, they are nothing more than models in a movie that is somewhere between a prepubescent softcore porno and a CW TV-series a few episodes from being cancelled.
In a film, there needs to a conflict or character development or a progression of plot. Instead, we get a reality show — we see Bella and Edward marry and the consummation of that marriage. Nothing of substance happens in these events, other than PG-rated skin-on-skin contact. And yet, for some reason, the marriage and the honeymoon make up 75 minutes of the film. When Breaking Dawn begins to move, however, the audience has to watch pale Mr. Patterson verbally fight with a brooding Mr. Lautner, who then broods towards a whiny Ms. Stewart, who will then whine at pale Mr. Patterson.
There are barely any redeeming qualities about Breaking Dawn. The lines include gems like “I will never have enough time to love you, but let’s start with forever” and “Everything feels perfect with you here.” The soundtrack feels like it’s from a hokey 1980 daytime soap opera. And that’s where this film should remain — in the daytime. Away from theaters. A remnant of the past. For now, we have to deal with it in the present, and sadly the future when the fifth and final installment releases a year from now.