One of the things my family did on Thanksgiving was to go see the new Harry Potter movie, Goblet of Fire. I quite enjoyed it—although I found myself thinking of an old episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000, in which, during a particularly long sequence of gloomily lit black-and-white scenes (involving some sort of swamp creature) one of the robots turned to the others and said, “We should all get together and buy this movie a light.” That’s kind of how I felt about Goblet of Fire.
The kids enjoyed the movie, but less so than the gr’ups. I’m not sure if it’s because of the increasingly dark character of the films (both literally and figuratively) or because of all the parts that were cut. I may have benefited from not remembering the books very well. When the third movie came out, both girls foamed at the mouth about what an abomination it was—though they later softened to conceding that it was possible to enjoy it if they thought of it just as a movie and not as an adaptation of a book they loved. Still, everyone in my family agrees that—never mind what the critics say—the first two movies were the best.
I’ve been working hard on Sunborn, which is why I haven’t been posting much here lately. If you don’t see me much for a while, that’s probably a good sign.