Saturday, 6 September 2014

The End of Harry.

Tonight I watched the final Harry Potter film. I think that means I finally get the badge.

So, the intrepid trio, having survived all manner of dark doings, devilish demons and the mixed intentions of some very illustrious actors in questionable make up, arrives back at a Hogwash Academy under siege.

‘Hooray!’ cry the faithful friends who have been waiting for the return of their Messiah as good disciples should. ‘Harry’s back! What can we do, Harry?’

‘I need to find something,’ says Harry.

‘What is it?’

‘I don’t know.’

Where is it?’

‘I don’t know that either.’

‘Not much to go on, is there?’

(They might have said ‘Call yourself a Messiah?’ but they didn’t.)

On comes Voldermort’s Initial Assault on Castle Hogwash. Lots of impenetrable darkness, vague shapes running hither and thither, lights going flash and pings going… ping.

‘Who are these people?’

‘I don’t know.’

Where are these people?’

‘I don’t know that either.’

‘Not much to go on, is there?’

Harry won, the dragon was good, the ending reprised the start of the whole series, but the final scene was unforgivably shallow and mawkish. ‘Call yourself a screenwriter?’

So should I wear the badge? I think Dobby answered that one last night.

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