Writing about Harry Potter movies gets harder each time. On top of everything else, this one bears the particular pain of being the middle film of a trilogy.
But wait, you cry. It’s the seventh book! Yes, that’s true. But the final three movies were written together, something I tried to keep in mind when I saw Half-Blood Prince. Pacing for three movies is different from the pacing for two novels. Blah blah blah.
Also, I’m a fankid. I first read The Deathly Hallows in the middle of the night in a college in London, surrounded by Harry Potter conventioneers. Do I get a little bit of a pass if I point out that I only attended the convention that day, for the reading experience & then the chance to talk about it with other people who finished it as ridiculously quickly as I did? And that really the high point of that weekend was probably my solo trip to the Maritime museum? Because OMG. The Maritime museum was *amazing*.
But really, I don’t want a pass. That is the truth of how I read it: in a room full of fans, with snacks & drinks & tissues, wearing headphones so I wouldn’t hear anyone further ahead than me reacting to anything. Listening, in fact, to the Master & Commander soundtrack on repeat.
And as we roll ever closer to the end of everything, when people complain about the mere existence of the films, taking an absolutist view because obviously no one can care about Harry Potter *and* the State of the World, nor can anyone enjoy the books and also consume challenging adult literature, when reviewers take pride in not knowing anything about the series, when bloggers claim that no one with taste has any interest at all in the films, well. Perhaps no one with taste does. But I am not going to sit here and pretend that I’m not a fan. They are books & characters & a world & a fandom that means something to me, and there are far worse things in the world than shared reading & film experiences.
I mean, come on. I’m an English major, a librarian, and a film blogger. It could be argued that to me, there is little in this life that is *more* important than shared reading & film experiences.
So it goes. I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part One at the sold-out midnight opening at the Cinerama theater. I was far from the only person wearing fannish garb. I thought the kissing scene was ridiculous and looked like bad fanart. I thought that the animation for the Tale of the Three Brothers was *gorgeous*. I thought that Remus was beautiful and tired and sad, that Ron’s Splinching was surprisingly hard to watch, and that it was a relief to finally see Domhnall Gleeson as a Weasley. I want to rewatch Half Blood Prince & then see this one again. And I can’t wait til July to see it all end. I wish they’d run a trailer for it after. Spoiler alert: I particularly can’t wait to see Neville kick ass.
If the worst thing you can say about me is that I’m enthusiastic about a series of seven children’s books where friendship & loyalty triumph over prejudice and where love really is the greatest weapon, or that I get excited about a series of eight films which, among other things, made Emma Watson into a star & fashion icon for playing a bookish, know-it-all *nerd*?
That’s fine. Mischief managed.