Oh dear oh dear oh dear.
I am a movie snob. An unabashed, unashamed, unwavering movie snob. And movies made from books are one thing that make my nose tip up disdainfully higher than nearly anything else. (Except, of course, the people who say they’ve never “seen” Pride and Prejudice, or Lord of the Rings, or Possession… THEY’RE BOOKS. YOU READ THEM!!!)
I love Harry Potter. As an awkward pre-teen, I waited eagerly in line with my sister for each book, yawning in the dim midnight streetlights of the McNally parking lot, making hurried McDonald’s runs to fortify our long wait. When the fifth book came out, I stayed up until 5am reading as far as I could, only to get up at 7am for my aunt’s wedding rehearsal, where I was singing at the reception. When the first movie made its appearance, my sister and I were again waiting eagerly in line, making hurried popcorn runs as the trailers slowly made their way off-screen.
But then… disappointment. The movies didn’t come close to the magic of the books. Worse, they dampened and diluted the magic of Hogwarts, chopping the storylines to tasteless bits and diminishing any character development to bright lights and big hair. In short: I hated the movies. And will loudly judge anyone who thinks otherwise.
But now? I have two respected creeters claiming exactly the opposite. Which is making me consider giving movie #6 another chance.
Erin- and Rachel-creeter, what have you done?!