I've been giving a lot of thought to the unholy box office success of the most recent incarnation of the Twilight franchise, and to the overwhelmingly adverse reaction from the overwhelmingly male critic population. And despite a fierce sense of loyalty to my own sex, one has to stop and consider the double standard. How many films have we as men given the "I like it, but I know it's not a good movie" response? After spending a thoroughly enjoyable time watching Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day and even more so after enjoying the bluray release of the boyish classic Fight Club, I realized that when it comes down to shear numbers, there are more "dude films" produced every year that than we care to admit. Yet we rise to the occasion with eloquent apologetics to defend even the most mindless of the lot, the Crank:High Voltages's included, but when a director offers up a similarly guilty and nutrionless morsel to the opposite gender, we cry "foul" and "travesty."
Sure, you may argue, women have an entire genre devoted to their fancy, with Romances a-plenty, and I wouldn't argue the point, were it not also true that every other genre caters almost completely and exclusively to the Y chromosome.
So let us as men not begrudge the female who cannot justify their pale-faced vampiric obsession. Instead, let us take solace in a film industry that has yet to realize the pecuniary potential of feminine fandom, and that Twilights don't come daily, just once in a new moon.