So, this weekend it finally happened: The last of the Harry Potter movies came out. Thank heavens! When the first one came out, friends and family dragged me off to see it. I thought it was terrible. A few years later, it happened again, only this time I was forced to endure the damned thing at a friend’s house. Again it was terrible, just like the first.
Of course I never read any of the books, but I did hear Jo reading some of it to our friend’s kids when she was baby-sitting. I have say, from what I heard the movie seemed true to the book. Pity; I’d hoped the book was the better of the two but no such luck.
Harry Potter ain’t no Lord of the Rings.
I find Harry Potter to be puerile in the extreme, what with all the fantastical gee-gaws and mumbo-jumbo. Harry Potter stories are like little kids playing war. One will move his men, the other will respond and so it will go. Then suddenly, one of them says, “You can’t attack my army because it has a force field I got from the little green men.” The other replies, “Yeah? Well the big red men gave me a nullifier to counter your force field, so there.” The first turns up his nose and says, “It won’t work because my mother has a beard!” His opponent then sticks out his tongue and says, “I don’t care `cause I just pulled out my magic wand and cast a spell on your army — and your mother’s beard. So there, pfttttt!”
Harry Potter makes as much sense.
As for Harry’s rather mild treatment of the Arch Fiend, you know that’s a crock. In the real world, when you’ve got your mortal enemy on the ropes, you squash him like a bug.
And for another thing, there isn’t any hot and steamy sex. Let me tell you, there sure would be if Harry and his crew were normal teens.
And that Dumbledore. Don’t you think that with a whole school full of kids at his disposal, he’d be putting the letch on some of them? Ya betcha.
And where were the kids out behind the school getting blasted on cheap wine? I didn’t see them.
Well, anyway, Harry Potter films are all done.
But what about the chap who played Harry? Well, he’s fucked. He’s now as type-cast as poor old Leonard Nimoy. As an actor, the Harry Potter guy is finished. But he’s a rich as Croesus now so he probably doesn’t care. However, if he ever feels moved to practice his “art” once again, he can go back to the male strip joint he graced a few years back. There he’ll drop trow, hump a brass pole and shake his junk at the audience.
I just hope the next character to capture the minds of the young is better than this turkey.