Perhaps I am too sentimental, but I get excited at the idea of a movie that doesn’t paint the youth of this generation in a negative light. I like to think that not all adolescents are solely concerned with underage drinking, destroying their parents homes by throwing ragers, experimenting with drugs, and having unprotected sexual encounters. I hold onto the notion that some sense of normality still exists. Typical problems like resenting your parents for being too overbearing or pulling all kinds of (really funny) stunts because your mother passed away and left you with a father who doesn’t understand you. I need to believe that a level of innocence can be maintained, even if a lot of bad things are happening on a regular basis. Maybe that is why I listen to Taylor Swift.

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When I learned that The Place Beyond the Pines was directed and co-written by Derek Cianfrance, the same gentleman who brought us 2010’s Blue Valentine, I predicted that one of two possible outcomes would transpire.

#1: I would leave the theatre just as depressed as I did after Blue Valentine. To be honest, for all of its (successful) efforts to depict the disintegration of a relationship, all it left me wanting to do was go home, eat chocolate, and never date again out of fear that I would end up like Cindy (Michelle Williams) and Dean (Ryan Gosling).

#2: Based on casting and the trailer alone, I projected that the movie would be a tour-de-force of dramatically epic proportions. Granted, that may seem like an extreme exaggeration; but to my defense, I have still been riding the high of Silver Linings Playbook, my favorite flick of 2012. I was expecting a lot from a film that included not just Bradley Cooper, but also Ryan Gosling.

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I can’t deny it. Since the release of the first Twilight movie in 2008, I have had nothing positive to say about any of the installments (except maybe for New Moon, because who didn’t get excited when Taylor Lautner first loses his shirt?). Much like the half of the world that was Team Jacob, I fell in love with the literary series. I wanted someone to love me so much that they would make snide comments at the pasty and cold vampire who had captured and then stomped on my heart. It took me quite a while to come down from the Twilight high. The catalyst that brought me back down to earth came in the form of Catherine Hardwick’s lacking attempt at the first picture. Though it was hard for me to admit, most of what I found wrong with the movie are the same faults I retrospectively recognized in the books: the writing was trite and the characters were annoying. The direction and effects may have gotten better with New Moon (Chris Weitz), Eclipse (David Slade), and Breaking Dawn Part 1 (Bill Condon), but Melissa Rosenberg’s interpretation of the already overly-clichéd novels remained intact. Still, the directors and writer can’t be blamed. Had they had better material to work with, I would not be going on this rant. The true culprit is Stephanie Myers.

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