Twilight

Sublimely bad films like Battlefield Earth and Twilight leech their appeal from the basic human need to see other people humiliated, but they also gratify an ugly desire to watch something you love get perverted. Thus, if Travolta’s sci-fi hoot satisfies a desecrated notion of what most men and boys want to see in a crap-lousy masterpiece (i.e., goofy aliens, explosions in space, deranged narcissism, breaking glass, the word “crap-lousy”), then I believe Catherine Hardwicke’s Twilight fulfills the same function for most women and girls (i.e., relationship angst, Disney Channel-dangerous guys who just wanna cuddle, the prom, vampire baseball for some reason). Most importantly, there’s a magical, smoldering, chaste boy (Robert Pattinson) who treats a smart, pretty girl (Kristen Stewart) like shit because he loves her. The 0.0025 percent of me that thinks like a 14-year-old girl absolutely adored it.