People who look a little like the people in Twilight fart.
Yes, that’s essentially the whole movie. No, I’m not kidding. Writer Craig Moss penned a script in which characters named after the characters in Twilight do some of the same things the characters in Twilight do, only here there’s also a lot of farting involved. Director Craig Moss then hired some, ahem, actors who resemble them, ahem, actors in Twilight and told them to squint while pretending to force out explosive farts. And then everyone involved was paid for their efforts. Ain’t life grand?
A couple years back Moss unleashed The 41-Year-Old Virgin Who Knocked Up Sarah Marshall and Felt Superbad About It on the world. Yes, he made a movie that parodied comedies. He did so by lifting scenes, characters, dialogue, jokes, and gags from the movies he was parodying, then removed everything that made those scenes, characters, jokes, and gags funny, replacing the funny stuff with fart and poop jokes. I didn’t get it (how do you make fun of a comedy?), and apparently neither did anyone else, as it ended up being one of the most reviled movies of the past few years. Nearly everyone who saw it hoped Moss would go away, but here he is again, serving up an equally awful piece of junk. This movie is slow, ineptly made, repetitive, slow, interminable, and slow. It’s also not the least bit funny. Much like 41-Year-Virgin (which contained more than a few unfunny jabs at Twilight), this movie is nowhere near as funny as the flicks it’s ostensibly parodying.
The title should give you an idea of the level of wit on display here. I get the feeling Moss’s sense of humor reached a plateau when he was six or seven years old and hasn’t moved since. As was the case with Moss’s previous flick, only people who think a mix of fart jokes and girls with explosive diarrhea is the ultimate good time will find anything to laugh at here. The werewolf characters (fat guys who don’t wear shirts, ha-ha-ha) fart into their hands and then take a whiff. And when they walk, they can’t take more than three steps without having to fart. Why? Because Moss is a no-talent hack. Girls you’d never expect to talk about taking giant dumps in the homes of their wealthy friends do just that.
You do get more than just fart and poop jokes, though. You also get jokes about the size of the head werewolf’s junk, jokes about the head werewolf’s weight, jokes about the size of the heroine’s vagina, jokes about the vampire’s lack of interest in sex, jokes about TMZ, jokes about the heroine’s pervert father, jokes about the heroine’s horny grandmother, and jokes about little people (which are so bad they actually made me long for Under the Rainbow). And to illustrate that Moss has his finger firmly on the pulse of the current pop-culture zeitgeist, there’s a Training Day reference (this eight years after Dave Chappelle and Wayne Brady created the ultimate parody of that movie), an exclamation of “Leroy Jenkins!” (which Community paraphrased to far better effect in the finale of its second season), and a guy dressed as Edward Scissorhands. Wow.
This is the second feature-length Twilight parody in two years, and it’s possible even lamer than the first, the Jason Friedberg-Aaron Seltzer disaster Vampires Suck. Think about that for a minute: someone has actually made a parody flick worse than a Friedberg-Seltzer parody flick. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. It’s happened, though, and the collapse of human civilization takes another step toward completion.
The movie opens with a shot of some nameless character walking along a waterfront during a massive thunderstorm. Something comes out of the darkness and slams into this guy, knocking him to the ground. His shirt is missing when he gets back up. The whatever-it-is comes out of the darkness again, slams into the guy again. The guy’s shirt suddenly reappears. I’m not sure if this is meant to be a joke (if it is, it’s certainly not much of one). Given just how crude the filmmaking here is (you have to wonder if Moss shoots only one take), there’s a good chance it’s just a continuity error. (This sequence ends with the guy suddenly sporting the same tattoo Mike Tyson and Ed Helms sport in The Hangover and its sequel. Wow.)
This movie runs eighty-two minutes (I took numerous sanity-saving breaks, so it took me more than three hours to finish it), but it takes a lengthy end-credits sequence and a pre-end-credits sequence comprised of YouTube clips in order to reach that runtime. Yes, YouTube clips. Moss strings together videos of people watching and reacting to the Eclipse trailer. He doesn’t do anything with them, doesn’t mock or alter them in any way, just edits them together and uses them to pad out his movie. That’s just sad. Even sadder, he’s asking you to pay to see something you could watch (in the exact form, no less) for free. Wow.
The official title of this movie is Breaking Wind Part I. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight.
The 2.35:1 anamorphic transfer handles brightly lit interiors and exteriors fairly well, but stumbles in darker scenes. The look of the movie mimics that of the Twilight flicks, although the somewhat cheap, somewhat flat look they exhibit is exacerbated here, the tiny budget leading to even cheaper, even flatter visuals. The movie was shot on digital video; this becomes obvious during nighttime exteriors and darker interiors, which can look very flat and plastic. Color delineation is satisfactory; blacks, however, waver mightily, either crushing or weakening into more of a slate gray. I think most (if not all) of the flaws can be traced back to the original photography, which once again illustrates what happens when people fail to understand the quirks of HD cinematography.
The sole audio option is a Dolby Digital 5.1 track. Things start off nicely, as the storm in the opening scene thunders throughout the entire soundstage. After that, though, the mix collapses into the front channels and stays there for the rest of the movie. There’s an okay stereo spread, and all elements of the mix sound perfectly okay (and never anything more than perfectly okay). English and Spanish subtitles are available.
The commentary by writer/director Craig Moss and actors Heather Ann Davis, Eric Callero, Frank Pacheco, and Peter Gilroy is just as painful as the movie itself. The participants try to be funny, but they’re not. They think they’re being funny, but they’re wrong. And Davis laughs at everything, which takes only a few seconds to get old.
Breaking Wind: Behind the Scenes (20 minutes) is a jokey making-of-featurette.
The Heartwarming Embrace of Edward & Jacob (2 minutes) is a compilation of different takes of a scene in which Callero and Pacheco suddenly start making out.
Closing things out is the movie’s trailer.
You want to laugh at a Twilight movie? Watch one of them. They’re a hell of a lot funnier than this thing could ever hope to be.