We saw the new Harry Potter movie last night; having cleverly waited until the day after opening weekend, we had the theatre almost to ourself, except for about seven other people (one of whom brought the obligatory child much too young for scary movies at eight o'clock at night, who started crying at the talking fireplace and never quite stopped, but was not removed from the theatre. Ah, Las Vegas.) It was the big theatre, with the big screens.
And the movie wasn't bad at all, and I only had the urge to pull out my notebook and work on a short story about twice.
But I still could have gone home happy after we'd been there for about five minutes.
Because the first two trailers were The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe and King Kong.
So really, expecting Harry Potter to stand up to that was a little unfair.