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Order of the OMG cool wizard battles!
Thursday, 19 July 2007 09:33 amI woke up randomly at 5.30am yesterday, and couldn't get back to sleep, which means I staggered into Order of the Phoenix last night fighting off great waves of tiredness and expecting to fall gently asleep halfway through. In the event this was a foolish expectation, as (a) the film moves at breakneck speed which makes its two-and-a-half whizz past on amphetamines, and (b) there's no way anyone could sleep through all that breaking glass.
The film promotes interesting meditation on narrative. (Although in my case most things promote interesting meditations on narrative... darn all this academia). It's a fascinating process, watching Rowling's comfy, well-padded story, rife with scarves, hats, capes, bits of string, random bits of weird jewellery and the occasional extra appendage, being scientifically stripped to lean muscle and bone by the scalpel-wielding scriptwriter. You end up a bit sad to lose a particularly well-loved dangly accessory, but the aesthetic pleasures of the emerging svelte form are more than consolatory. The only problem is that Rowling's writing style, which is very much geared towards building up the whole out of buckets of trivia, doesn't always respond well to accessory-stripping, in the sense that sometimes the removal of a scarf or bit of string reveals the missing chunk of bone in the underlying limb. Some of that extraneous detail actually isn't extraneous at all.
( Detailed dissection behind the cut )
For a far more entertaining take on the film,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mistful does Emo!Harry and, predictably enough, mega homoerotic subtext. Memo to self: desperately require LOL-Dementor icon with "CAN HAS SOULZ" motif.
(p.s. did anyone else catch Jessica Stevenson in the Ministry of Magic hearing scene? She's listed in the film credits, but not on IMDB, which is weird. Plays Mafalda Hopkirk.)
In other news, the Friendly Psychologist insists that I note dreams on this blog, on the grounds that she enjoys reading them. Who am I to disobey instructions from a professional?
Last Night I Dreamed that jo came to visit, bringing with her about seven or eight more-or-less interchangeable ten-year-old girls - mostly blonde. They were very well-behaved, filing into the house in a long line and accepting in a polite chorus when I offered them tea.
The film promotes interesting meditation on narrative. (Although in my case most things promote interesting meditations on narrative... darn all this academia). It's a fascinating process, watching Rowling's comfy, well-padded story, rife with scarves, hats, capes, bits of string, random bits of weird jewellery and the occasional extra appendage, being scientifically stripped to lean muscle and bone by the scalpel-wielding scriptwriter. You end up a bit sad to lose a particularly well-loved dangly accessory, but the aesthetic pleasures of the emerging svelte form are more than consolatory. The only problem is that Rowling's writing style, which is very much geared towards building up the whole out of buckets of trivia, doesn't always respond well to accessory-stripping, in the sense that sometimes the removal of a scarf or bit of string reveals the missing chunk of bone in the underlying limb. Some of that extraneous detail actually isn't extraneous at all.
( Detailed dissection behind the cut )
For a far more entertaining take on the film,
mistful does Emo!Harry and, predictably enough, mega homoerotic subtext. Memo to self: desperately require LOL-Dementor icon with "CAN HAS SOULZ" motif.(p.s. did anyone else catch Jessica Stevenson in the Ministry of Magic hearing scene? She's listed in the film credits, but not on IMDB, which is weird. Plays Mafalda Hopkirk.)
In other news, the Friendly Psychologist insists that I note dreams on this blog, on the grounds that she enjoys reading them. Who am I to disobey instructions from a professional?
Last Night I Dreamed that jo came to visit, bringing with her about seven or eight more-or-less interchangeable ten-year-old girls - mostly blonde. They were very well-behaved, filing into the house in a long line and accepting in a polite chorus when I offered them tea.
