This vision of parturition as a form of demonic torture co-exists, bizarrely enough, with an abortion debate waged by the undead. The birth scene-which involves, among other things, an amateur C-section done sans anesthesia-is genuinely, primally horrifying in a way no Twilight movie has been before. In the age of glowing celebrities with their well-tended “baby bumps,” there’s something refreshingly unwholesome about this film’s dark fantasy of pregnancy as an invasion that destroys its host even as she welcomes it. The anxieties about female sexuality-and, hell, about mortal existence in a human female body-that pervade this film’s latter half are so numerous and intense that Breaking Dawn becomes interesting almost despite itself.
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