Friday, July 15, 2011


At 2:39am this morning I stumbled bleary eyed out of the dark room feeling a little bit ashamed of myself and slightly dirty. I looked at the people around me wondering what we were doing there... how we'd ended up like this. My fingers were sticky, my senses were assaulted and I'd given in to the reckless pursuit of conforming to the advertising morons.

I'd been to see the midnight Harry Potter film.

Now, before I begin my unrelenting assault on the absolute atrocity that is this series of films, I would just like to say that I love the books. No, I don't love the books, I adore the books. I think they are phenomenal. I think they are some of the best excuses for paper on the planet. I think children who are struggling to understand the magic of books should be given a free copy and shown how beautiful imagination can be (both the author's and the readers). They are the books that, if I do get my head round the kids issue, I will read at bedtime and do all the voices and share with my little offspring. I could not love these books more.

The films are complete and utter shite with the odd life saving appearance from Robbie Coltrane or Maggie Smith to help you feel like you're not the only sane person who got sucked into this colossal shit storm.

I found myself sat in the cinema looking around at people with tears in their eyes, wondering if they had just found a way to switch their brains off to the tediously poor quality of this film, or if I was missing something. These are not good films. At all. Are they? They are terrible, terrible portrayals of excellent books but it doesn't mean they merit worshipping at all.

Unless, they are sort of like a Picasso. Where the actual representation looks a bit weird and squonky but it's what it means that counts? In which case, tell Picasso to just send me the address of the person he's painting and I'll go and look at the real thing. I just don't understand...

Has no one noticed that the acting is abysmal? That each of the three lead teenysomethings can only move certain parts of their faces when acting? Between them they would be a fine face actor (arms are not their strong points), watch the film and notice;

Ron - can move his mouth.
Hermione - can mover her eyebrows.
Harry - can move his jaw.

AND THAT IS IT! And no one seems to mind?

Am I barmy? Am I missing something? How did I end up there last night? Is this how the Nazis did it too? Just bamboozle you into being sure it must be you that thinks the whole thing's nonsense by showering you in pyrotechnics every time you think about getting up from your seat?

The films aren't even good enough to exist in their own right. The films make little to no sense if you haven't read the books and I find it embarrassing. It's like they think we're so stupid that we need this pictorial accompaniment to go with the films in case the words were too difficult and we're struggling a bit. Some how we have not allowed these films to progress from the flash card versions of the books - "Here's a thing - it's pretty, not got time to go into detail... here's another thing... if you don't understand there's a written version... oooh shiny!".

Perhaps I'm just overtired and over thinking the whole issue. But, it is a bad film and I went to see it at midnight for no explicable reason and I'm very ashamed of myself. If someone ever asks me to make the film version of my blogs I promise to do it absolutely faithfully with all the pyjama wearing, grumpy, scowling tea drinking reality of the written version.


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