Gobble, Gobble, Goblet

Ibrahim and I went to see Goblet of Fire last night, without first however having a mild squabble over whether we should go see a movie at all. You see, I am the Anti-Social, Misanthropic one, and hate Saturday night crowds and traffic, whereas Ibrahim is the I'm Bored, It's Saturday, Let's GO ALREADY one in the relationship. So we tend to butt heads a bit when it comes to Saturday Night Plans.

I finally gave in after about an hour of miffed silence, realizing I, too, was bored silly and dreaded the alternative, which was watching Science Channel all night long. (Ibrahim has become a major devotee of the Science Channel, much as I had been of CourtTV before the cable company realized what a bargain they were giving people by including it in the basic, ultra-stripped down, cheap-o cable package ascetics and cheapskates like myself subscribe to, and duly ripped it away once they detected their error). We actually did watch the Science Channel when we came back, but that was because they had this way-cool special on about the Roman Coliseum. It was kind of funny, not because learning about gladiators wacking each other for sport is droll (although apparently ancient Romans thought so) but because they kept attributing all the "miraculous knowledge finds" to the program rather than the scholars who did the actual work, as if had the Science Channel not thought to air a special on the Coliseum, no one would have bothered researching it in the first place, because yawn, how passe, the stupid ancient Coliseum, who cares about that old thing, it's all falling apart any way, dude.

Back to the movie, though. Despite my original protestation of Saturday night crowds being unbearable, it wasn't bad, except for the lameass parent in the backrow who kept up a pointless play-by-play-spoiler all fucking movie long. As in, pointing out people we've seen before, because they are the main characters and all, and doing so in a loud, distracting whisper tone: "Hey! Isn't that Hermione? Wow. She got really tall." Or he'd say something like, "Wait! The trophey thing is a portkey." just seconds before Harry, or Cedric, or whoever the hell it was figures it out on screen in the real movie and shouts the line "Hey, the trophey is a portkey!". Like, duh, stupid parent guy, shut up already.

We enjoyed the movie. I can't figure out why critics lavish so much praise over Alfonso Cuaron's take on the third movie in the Potter series, The Prisoner of Azkaban because frankly I wasn't as enchanted, but maybe I am just a stupid American film goer as well who doesn't have the aesthetic taste and trained eye of a Real Live Film Critic. Or maybe it's just the year for critics to kiss Cuaron's ass, or something.

I did, however, like Goblet of Fire quite a bit. For one, it eschews the obligatory Dursley scene, which was getting lamer and more painful to watch by the installment, and for two, it was quite a bit scarier than anything that preceeded it, which makes sense as the novels get darker in tone progressively. Some of the amateurish acting still makes me cringe a bit, but seeing as I couldn't act my way out of a paperbag, I have to give the young trio of starlets props, because I don't think any of them were professional actors before their Harry Potter stint. Oh, and Michael Gambon is playing one helluva scary Dumbledore. I mean, I always thought of Dumbledore as an even-tempered, grandpa-with-a-PhD-old bloke, but in the cinematic version of Goblet anyway, Gambon has him going around kicking ass and taking names with medieval vengence. It was a little scary and I wondered if I am the only one to miss Richard Harris's more subdued portrayal of the wise old wizard headmaster, but I suppose being dead now and all he wouldn't do Dumbledore's character very much good. Dammit Richard, why couldn't you have waited another decade or so before succumbing to mortality? Why? !

Goblet of Fire was never my favorite book (perhaps at a hefty 700 plus pages I was just too distracted by all the many, many subplots, like the whole Hermione/ S.P.E.W. thing, and Winky the House elf, and the endless Quidditch matches, which yawn is my least favorite aspect of the Wizarding World) but it is my favorite movie. Especially endearing were the Yule ball scenes, with all the little adolescent nerdlings in puppy love. I don't quite remember teenage years being that sweet and goofy and innocent (mostly I remember being a painfully introverted, cynical outsider) but maybe when we were like, ten or eleven, or something, we were cute and awkward like that around the opposite sex. Any way, a nostalgic reminder of the good times I never had, because no one ever bothered asking dorky, bookworm little me out to the prom. Bastards. Not that I'm bitter, or anything.