I first discovered “Twilight” when I was nine years old. The amateur film critic within me hadn’t developed yet, so the poor-quality green screen scenes, protagonist Bella’s awkward emoting and the obviously low film budget really went over my head. I could only see the epic, action-packed love story between Edward and Bella, the lion and the lamb.
As a young girl, I loved their love: the intensity of their relationship, their infatuation with one another and how nothing else mattered to them besides each other.
Upon my latest rewatch as a grown adult, however, I now realize that not only did the awful CGI and acting go unnoticed by me, but the toxicity and abusive nature of Edward and Bella’s relationship did, as well. I’m not sure that I’ve ever confused lust and obsession with love more than I did when first watching this film series years ago.
If you’ve seen “Twilight” before, you know that Bella is quite introverted. She’s quiet and shy, and quite frankly, she lacks personality. We don’t see her express interest in anything until she sees Edward for the first time. Once Edward enters the picture, he becomes her life, and vice versa.
Bella becomes the center of Edward’s universe, and Edward gives Bella purpose, turning her dull world upside down. Suddenly, everything in her world revolves around him, and without him (as seen through Bella’s depression in the second film of the series, “New Moon”), she simply cannot function.
Bella’s dependence on Edward sends many harmful messages to audiences, similar to classic tales of princesses and princes: Men are essential for women to recognize their full potential and achieve happiness and fulfillment, and without one, they will lead aimless, colorless lives.
On the other hand, Edward’s infatuation with Bella promotes the unhealthy idea that obsessive and possessive tendencies indicate true love and that it’s normal for your partner to take over your entire life rather than be just a cherished part.
Throughout the film, Edward engages in abusive behaviors that are framed as romantic. He breaks into Bella’s bedroom and watches her sleep, which the film presents as endearing rather than unsettling. He stalks her while she’s shopping with her friends, which the film justifies by making him the hero when he saves her from being harassed by a group of men in a dark parking lot.
He encourages Bella to lie to her father and run away from home, driving a wedge between her and her family that isn’t mended until the end of the series. Still, the film deems this necessary because Bella is in danger of being hunted by an enemy vampire, and Edward is only trying to protect her.
In many ways, the film’s romanticization of Edward’s character perpetuates dangerous narratives surrounding domestic abuse that distort warning signs into green flags. The film utilizes Edward’s conventional attractiveness and charm to lure audiences into believing that his behavior is that of a loving partner rather than a boyfriend with abusive patterns, contributing to the fantasy of his relationship with Bella.
Perhaps my own unfortunate relationship experiences have opened my eyes to the unhealthy behavior that Edward displays, or maybe it’s just that today, as a society, we are more aware of the early indicators of domestic abuse.
Either way, my most recent watch with wiser eyes shocked and slightly horrified me; what’s more alarming is that as a child, movies like “Twilight” shaped my perception of what a romantic relationship should look like, which could factor into why red flags in my adult relationships later in life didn’t seem so blaring.
“Movies provide us with the raw material we use to create romantic fantasies and give us a model for how to perform our own social roles in life,” said Dr. Laurel Ahnert, a Communication Studies professor at Northeastern University.
Because we subconsciously lean on media to develop our understanding of relationships, younger, more impressionable audiences (like my nine-year-old self) will likely be exceptionally susceptible to adopting the roles and behaviors they witness in films.
“Movie romances often express juvenile forms of infatuation, unhealthy attachment and fear of loneliness and rejection,” said Ahnert. “This is because of the imagined target audience for a lot of these texts (teens/tweens), and it is, I would argue, also because the space of fantasy is a space of regression where we abandon adult responsibilities and the harsh realities of the world and just do what feels good.”
Fictional relationships, like Edward and Bella’s, allow viewers to sink into a fantasy where consequences don’t exist. It doesn’t matter that in “Twilight,” Edward’s abusive behavior is masked as true love because their relationship exists in a space where Bella won’t be harmed by his actions; their relationship lives within a fantasy. Fantasy spaces don’t require repercussions, but reality is much less forgiving.
The effects of domestic abuse in the real world can be profoundly traumatic and difficult to work through, which is why the fantasy that “Twilight” generates is so harmful to audiences, especially given that audiences idealize the relationship the film depicts. Although it takes more than one movie to shape a person’s entire perception of love, films such as “Twilight” contribute nonetheless to unhealthy portrayals of romance.
October is not only the start of “Twilight” season (in my opinion) but also Domestic Violence Awareness Month. We must recognize the role that the media we consume plays in blurring the lines between love and abuse, as these harmful ideas can translate to our own relationships and lives.
While it could be a stretch to want certain films, novels or shows to be off-limits, it is imperative that we consume media with critical eyes and understand the potential danger of the subtext within the narratives we’re invested in.
To learn more about the warning signs of domestic violence, click here.