Never again (Plus a bit on GQ)

[kneasy]

Of the opinions expressed Kneasy seems to be among the minority.
'Twas ever thus.

Maybe the reason my critical edge is so unforgiving is because I see
very few films at the  cinema. The last time? -  Oh, two years ago IIRC. 

There's no cinema in this town - the nearest is 20 miles away, I gave up
owning a car 15 years ago when I realised it sat at the back of my house
unused for 98% of the time, depreciating and deteriorating. Consequently
actually making the effort to see a new release is no  minor undertaking,
though the cinema I favour - small, single screen, an adjunct to a local
theatre/music hall - is friendly and has overtones reminiscent of  "The
Smallest Show on Earth." Margaret Rutherford would fit in almost
un-noticed.

So I buy DVDs of the stuff I want to see - but it's amazing how few you
feel inclined to buy once the furore of the publicity of Opening Nights,
interviews and reviews associated with a blockbuster release have died
down. It's no longer a "must see", more a " maybe I'll wait until it shows
on TV and then decide." It's also amazing how often "mature reflection" 
runs hand-in-hand with "can't be bothered", particularly when the 
film/DVD in question is an adaptation of a well-loved book. I just know 
I'll be foaming at the mouth with rage at the so-called interpretation
perpetrated by some pretentious smartarse hack director more interested
in enhancing his Hollywood credentials than in transfering a wonder of 
words into an entrancement of images.

Thus it was with PoA.
OK, it doesn't matter that the Hogwarts environs are presented as a second
rate version of Cobweb Castle ( Ah! Kurosawa! Now there was a director who
could do an adaptation that actually *added* something to the original),
but when they start messing around with plot elements I get very restive
indeed. You'd think I'd have learned by now, but all  too often it's a case
of the triumph of hope over experience followed by those fateful words
"Never again." This time I mean it. I think.

Galaxy Quest fitted the paradigm of my usual buying habits; seen on TV,
thoroughly enjoyed it, bought a copy to enjoy it again, and again.
Rickman was fun, but being an un-reconstructed, un-PC old-fashioned
male, I was much more impressed at the way Ms S. Weaver evidenced
attributes generally neglected in her previous oeuvre.
Drool.

Kneasy