From the Washington Times. I liked the Harry Potter books well enough. Perhaps they are not quite in the same league as Shakespeare, but they are entertaining. I liked the movies too and have seen all of them at least once. Somehow, though, I don’t think I will require the services of a grief counselor after the last movie is released.
Fear not, Hogwarts junkies.
Yes, the release of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2” marks the end of a cinematic era — eight films, 10 years, $6 billion and counting in worldwide ticket sales.
But that doesn’t mean your fantasy fix is about to vanish like an invisibility cloak.
Take it from the Trekkies and the ‘Star Wars’ nerds; they’ve been there.
The writer of the article provides several ways to cope with the impending loss, including conventions, fanfic, and generally following the examples of Star Trek and Star Wars fans.
Case in point? In “Potter,” the fictional students of the fictional Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry play a fictional game called quidditch, in which wizards fly around on broomsticks and toss balls through hoops. On actual American college campuses, actual students play a version of the game in which they toss balls through hoops and run around with broomsticks between their legs. Alas, nobody flies. All of which would seem stranger if “Star Wars” hadn’t already inspired a real-life Jedi religion, the way the Klingons of “Star Trek,” a race of warrior aliens, have inspired the creation of a viable language.
Or, we could act like grown-ups for a change. I mean, come on people, there is a real world out there.
Unless you’ve been contacted by the film’s casting director, there is no reason for you ever to come to a movie in costume. We don’t think you’re cute. We don’t think you’re artistic. We do think you’re a nerd. And the moment you leave the protective company of the other crazy people at the cineplex, you look like a complete idiot. The robe and the wand are not working for you.
Oh, and the last time I checked, Harry Potter was not 300 pounds, 40, or balding.