Goblet of Missing Plot-Lines

Ok, so I loved Goblet of Fire. However, I loved it in a Shining way. Because they butchered the book. They left out most of it; key characters, key plot lines, key developments. They whipped past things like the Quiddich World Cup and the Pensieve so quickly as to make them fairly irrelevant. They cast […]

Ok, so I loved Goblet of Fire.

However, I loved it in a Shining way.

Because they butchered the book. They left out most of it; key characters, key plot lines, key developments. They whipped past things like the Quiddich World Cup and the Pensieve so quickly as to make them fairly irrelevant. They cast Rita Skeeter brilliantly and then did nothing at all with her, leaving out the entire reason she was in the book.

There were casting issues as well. Fleur Delacour should be impossibly, breathtakingly pretty. The actress who played her, despite the adorable name of Clémence Poésy, is just sort of average looking. Cedric Diggory was also an average-looking boy. Ginny Weasley, also needs re-casting; it’s obvious in Half Blood Prince how important she is, and we need more than an average looking girl with mousy-brown hair to play her. How can anyone even notice her next to Emma Watson, she’s growing up into quite a little heartbreaker?

But you know, it all seemed not to matter much when I was watching it. The film looked so fucking good, and the action was so well done and so well paced, that I was almost gasping for breath the entire time. This is certainly the best any of these films has looked, and has the best effects.

Basically, what Newell (the director) seemed to have done is said, forget trying to pack the whole book in, let’s just make a movie that’s cool and fun to watch. And he nailed it, without question.

Yet the problem with this is that Rowling’s books are so dense, so complicated, so rich in characters, names, history, mystery, and magic. You can’t just strip them down and keep what makes them so brilliant. It’s not just about a few kids in a school, it’s about events and people who shape the entire magical world. This is an entire culture, almost a universe that she’s developed.

So while I was loving the movie while I watched it, the more I think on it, the more it bothers me. While certain characters were given plenty of screen time, or made fantastic use of the time they had (Fred and George – god, I love these guys), where the hell was Mrs. Weasley? Where was Charlie, the rock star of the family? Where was Siruis Black (Sure, in the fire, but dammit, he should have more than two minutes screen time!).

I think it was a huge mistake to try to make one movie. They original plan was to split it into a pair; there was enough material for five or six hours of film, certainly, and with editing, you could have had two very good hours of movie. For some reason, though, Newell chose to make one instead. I’ve never heard what his reasoning was, but I have a hard time buying that it was a good idea.

This book, in many ways, is the hinge-point of the series. It’s where things turn serious; it’s where they go from being kids to being young adults. It’s where the romantic relationships are born, and it’s where we see the forces of evil begin to gain ground. So much of the next two books is set up in this one that you really need the side-plots, in many ways.

I walked out of the theater thinking this was the best movie of the four so far. And in terms of just making a movie I think it is. Yet, for all that I think it’s ok to make a great movie by not doing the book right (look at Jaws or The Shining), this is one case where you can’t just make a movie. You’re making an installment of a series, and you’re bringing to life a great mythos. You have to do more than make a movie, you have to maintain that mythos. I am not sure Mike Newell did that.

But what the hell. It’s damned fun to watch. And I’ll see it again. It is a good movie, if we don’t pay too much attention to what’s missing.

WWPD (What Would a Pirate Do?

I love getting a mysterious package in the mail. Well, unless there are, like, human heads in it. * I just got this: From the lovely and talented DarkNeuro. And my birthday isn’t even ’til next week. * in fact I don’t even mind the human heads, if they’re nice ‘n fresh…

I love getting a mysterious package in the mail.

Well, unless there are, like, human heads in it. *

I just got this:

11570-2

From the lovely and talented DarkNeuro.

And my birthday isn’t even ’til next week.

* in fact I don’t even mind the human heads, if they’re nice ‘n fresh…

Frog in my Hair – I’ll have what he’s having

I’ll have some of what Joaquin Phoenix is having, please: …Out of the blue, Phoenix suddenly changed the subject, asking, “Do I have a large frog in my hair?” 
Reporter: No, no. Phoenix: “Something’s crawling out of my scalp.” Reporter: No, you look great. Phoenix: “No, but I feel it. I’m not worried about the […]

I’ll have some of what Joaquin Phoenix is having, please:

…Out of the blue, Phoenix suddenly changed the subject, asking, “Do I have a large frog in my hair?”

Reporter: No, no.

Phoenix: “Something’s crawling out of my scalp.”

Reporter: No, you look great.

Phoenix: “No, but I feel it. I’m not worried about the looks. I’m worried about the sensation of my brain being eaten. … What did you ask me?”

I’ve been walking around since I read this, thinking I’m worried about the sensation of my brain being eaten. I think I wanna party with ‘ol Joaquin.

Goblet of Fire Book/Movie differences

Warnings for detail geeks. If you’re like me and went through Prisoner of Azkaban saying Wait, that’s not right, get ready to do it a lot more in Goblet of Fire. Here’s your handy checklist: Goblet of Fire Book/Movie differences I’m hoping it’s a Shining thing where it might be wrong, but it’s good. That […]

Warnings for detail geeks.

If you’re like me and went through Prisoner of Azkaban saying Wait, that’s not right, get ready to do it a lot more in Goblet of Fire. Here’s your handy checklist:

Goblet of Fire Book/Movie differences

I’m hoping it’s a Shining thing where it might be wrong, but it’s good. That wasn’t the case in Prisoner of Azkaban, but I’m hearing this is a better film, despite the hack-n-slash on the plot. Goblet isn’t that good a book (WAY too long and with too many plot holes), so it’s got a lot of room for trimming, much more so than Prisoner of Azkaban.

I’m off to see it tomorrow, we’ll see.

I wanna be Titus Pullo

I wanna be Titus Pullo. (Warning, there are minor spoilers toward the end of this, after the cut) If you’re watching Rome you know what I’m talkin’ about. If you’re not watching Rome, well, we’re down to the last episode, so wait for the DVD to come out; which should hit when next season rolls […]

I wanna be Titus Pullo.

(Warning, there are minor spoilers toward the end of this, after the cut)

If you’re watching Rome you know what I’m talkin’ about. If you’re not watching Rome, well, we’re down to the last episode, so wait for the DVD to come out; which should hit when next season rolls around. Or wait for HBO to start a re-show.

Rome is a fantastic show; it takes a few episodes to get going and knowing your roman history helps a little since they don’t always explain the relationships and historical significance of everything. But once the show gets going, it’s fucking brilliant, well written, well acted, incredibly well cast.

But I’ve said all that before.

The thing I want to talk about, though, is Titus Pullo.

Read more “I wanna be Titus Pullo”

Justifiable Homicide

Justifiable Homicide. The brutal killing – sometimes after appropriate torture – of people who richly deserve it. Case in point: customer service reps who fuck something up, then want to argue about it instead of saying I’m sorry sir, I’ll get it fixed. The word service is, theoretically, in there for a reason. You’d think. […]

Justifiable Homicide.

The brutal killing – sometimes after appropriate torture – of people who richly deserve it.

Case in point: customer service reps who fuck something up, then want to argue about it instead of saying I’m sorry sir, I’ll get it fixed.

The word service is, theoretically, in there for a reason. You’d think. Evidently not.

I actually told a woman who works for Wells Fargo “Your email management skills are not my problem.” But you know, in my head her hot red blood was dripping down my arm as I held her tender white throat in one hand, and drew a straight razor slowly across her neck, carving her a second smile.

So what I said? Pretty nice, all things considered.

Pardon me, I need to look for someone to hurt…

that old line about calgon

I’m having one of those weeks. I know I talk about running away to that mythical tropical isle, (or that mythical sailboat so I can visit all the tropical isles) all the time. That’s sort of always running in the back of my head, 24×7. And you know, it could happen, I could just snap […]

I’m having one of those weeks.

I know I talk about running away to that mythical tropical isle, (or that mythical sailboat so I can visit all the tropical isles) all the time. That’s sort of always running in the back of my head, 24×7. And you know, it could happen, I could just snap one day and off I go.

But I’m having one of those weeks where it doesn’t have to be coconuts and tropical breezes. I’m having one of those weeks where just no fresh problems and no backlog of work and no fucking drama would be – you know, swell. Where just having a couple days all to myself sounds like the next best thing to paradise.

I don’t have time for details today. So let’s just summarize:

    Kids school. Headmaster drama. [shudders]

    Work. Review time. Too much to do, no idea where to put my attention. Stress and panic all around me. Impossible schedules.

    Money. God, life was so much simpler way back when we were all rich for those couple years around the dotcom boom. I keep thinking, one more pay cycle and I’ll have this wild animal under control, and then it breaks free again.

    Home. I went on a clean-and-throw-away tear last weekend, and I got halfway and ran out of weekend, which means my house is all garbage bags full of un-sorted kids clothes and the kids rooms are both full of bins of unsorted toys. When it’s done we’ll have a radically much clearer house but meantime it’s a fucking mine field and I don’t have time to touch it; this means everyone’s stressed (is it only me that gets a charge from the chaos?)

Add that to the ever-present list of things to do (bills, laundry, general house maintenance, cooking, cleaning, workouts), and the list of things I wanna do (write, play, teevee, movies, resident evil, read), and I’ve got at least two point five days of stuff for every 24 hours hours of day.

Maybe if I just give up sleeping?

the opposite of nightmare

We’ve all woken from nightmares a time or two. Woken, sometimes gasping, sometimes screaming, sometimes just to an awareness, oh thank god that was a dream. The sweaty, sheets-cumppled, heart beating, terror-bleeding-into-relief feeling as dream fades. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the opposite of that. Have you ever a dream […]

We’ve all woken from nightmares a time or two. Woken, sometimes gasping, sometimes screaming, sometimes just to an awareness, oh thank god that was a dream. The sweaty, sheets-cumppled, heart beating, terror-bleeding-into-relief feeling as dream fades.

But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the opposite of that.

Have you ever a dream that’s so good, so right, so perfect, that waking up feels like a nightmare? A dream of utter contentment, complete perfection, all-is-right-with-my-world.

A waking moment, floating up from the deep, warm, womb-like pool of dream, to find that all life’s problems and pains and losses and realities are terrifyingly still real, and the dream’s bliss, the dream’s utter perfection and contentment, is lost.

I had that moment a night or two ago. At, of course three am – what I call the worrying hour. How often have I had conversations with friends about middle of the night wakings; the eye of that storm turns around three am. AT that hour, life’s tiniest problems are magnified, life’s sturm und drang blown to operatic proportion. I woke, a little after that hour, from a warm and contented dream. Not a sex dream, nothing so raw, intense and carnal. No, a simple dream of simple uncomplicated pleasure, the details of which were fading away long before the night was over.

I woke, and drank water, and stared at the dark ceiling, and felt warm glow replaced by reality, and it feel like I was starting a nightmare, not waking from a dream. Work, and kid’s school, health, tasks to do. Things lost. Desires that live in my heart all the time, yet which are forever beyond my grasp. Wants and needs and fears. Age and aches and frustrations, like a drowning pool, quicksand closing over my head.

I want my dream back, I thought. I need my dream back.

How I envy people who can lucid dream; who can live out in dreams what they want in waking life. Though I fear if I could do it, I might never wake.

I wound up getting out of bed at three thirty, wobbling into my cold living-room, wrapping myself in a blanket, and finishing a book, Bujold’s Hallowed Hunt. (I’ll post a review shortly, that’s another topic). I was still awake when my kids got up for school, though I managed to slip back into bed for an hour of sleep; dreamless this time, no nightmares, no blissful contentment, just black emptiness, which was what I needed.

I want to find that dream again. Whatever it was, lost now in haze. I want it back.

Archie McPhee needs a Wishlist

Want. You know I’m all about want don’t you? Archie McPhee has a whole pirate collection. And I want it all. You know, my birthday is the end of the month. And a guy just can’t have too many pirate accessories… Archive McPhee needs a wishlist, like Amazon has. Thx to Greggg for making me […]

Want.

You know I’m all about want don’t you?

Archie McPhee has a whole pirate collection.

And I want it all.

You know, my birthday is the end of the month. And a guy just can’t have too many pirate accessories…

Archive McPhee needs a wishlist, like Amazon has.

Thx to Greggg for making me want this shit. And incidentally for doing a graphics tuneup on my blog. You rock, brutha-man.

(oh and by the way, I already have the pirate devil duckie. I don’t know why, but devil duckies seem to find me)

Does the name pavlov ring a bell?

I’m looking at my hit logs – as usual. And I see it a hit from Porto, Portugal. And suddenly I’m sitting here absolutely salivating for a glass of port. I would kill a man right now for a vintage tawny. Good lord, I’m so suggestible. Must. Have. Port.

I’m looking at my hit logs – as usual. And I see it a hit from Porto, Portugal.

And suddenly I’m sitting here absolutely salivating for a glass of port. I would kill a man right now for a vintage tawny.

Good lord, I’m so suggestible.

Must.

Have.

Port.