Twilight

If you're a fan of the _Twilight_ books, you're gonna love this movie. If you haven't read 'em, you're going to be like me, asking the women in the room, "Why did she do that? What's going on with that guy?" "Why do they care about this?"

See, it isn't that TWILIGHT left me on the outside because I'm not a member of its target demographic. TWILIGHT left me on the outside because it assumed I've read the book. Since I haven't, I couldn't understand why the heroine seemed so bummed out: she had a father who loved her, lived in a cool house, and made friends easily. Further, I couldn't understand what she saw in the mousse-haired vampire with whom she's paired in biology class. Werewolf Guy seemed cool, and he could rebuild an engine. Jock Guy seemed nice enough, and he wasn't a threat to drink her blood by the pale moonlight. I mean, really, why would any woman want to be with a man who spends more time on his hair than she does?

There are many more questions that TWILIGHT fails to answer. For example: why are its vampires dressed so fashionably? I've only been around for 40 years, and I've already lost interest in fashion: give me khakis and an oxford on the East Coast, jeans and a T on the West, and I'm good to go. After a century, you'd think that TWILIGHT's undead would have roughly the same fashion sense as the far more entertaining vampires of NETHERBEAST INCORPORATED. At the very least, they could get jobs, a la NETHERBEAST. I mean, really, I know that vampires are damned, but an eternity of high school biology seems like cruel and unusual punishment even for the eternally forsaken.

But, hey, if thinly veiled parables about the excruciation of celibacy are your bag, or if you happen to own stock in a grooming products company, you might enjoy TWILIGHT. Two out of three of the adults in my room did.

NetherBeast Incorporated

Dilbert, with vampires. Either you're in or you're out.

Me, I'm in.

Steve Burns (yes, that Steve Burns), has a problem. His boss, Darrell Hammond, has just invited him into his office. Hammond tells Burns to take over a project from a recently deceased coworker. The coworker in question is sitting in a chair across from Hammond's desk, a stake through his heart. "Not only does his project need a little work, you see, but I had to kill him," declares Hammond. "He was a vampire." And away we go with a fun and creative take on the vampire mythos.

NETHERBEAST INCORPORATED's vampires don't wear flashy clothes, they don't brood in the moonlight, and they don't gaze with romantic longing at the nubile living. They're too busy working up PowerPoint presentations, dozing through meetings, and running the most mundane business imaginable. That's its hook, but the thing that sells it is Steve Burns, whose deadpan delivery and everyman approach to even the most horrifically outlandish situations kept me chuckling throughout the film's brisk 89 minute run time. This is a low-budget horror comedy that's light on the horror and heavy on the comedy, and a it's a sweet, simple, semi-gory good time.

It's perfect for Valentine's Day, or any romantic occasion. Try it with a nice red wine.