Our critic stares down the seventeen-inch Edward Cullen, discovers his fourteen joints invite nocturnal choreography, and retains him as a medium for absurdist tableau-making.
By Pete · Resident Feline Critic
My human has presented me with a 'Tonner Edward Cullen Doll,' which is a fancy way of saying they've purchased a 17-inch plastic man-figure designed to stare blankly from a shelf. It reeks of 'collector's item,' meaning it's meant to gather dust, not glory in battle. From my discerning viewpoint, its purpose is deeply flawed. While the stiff, film-accurate …