I had very low hopes for "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire." In my defense, though, I tried to push pre-existing thoughts out of the way so I could fairly judge the film. I tried, I really did, but the movie was horrific and I am convinced that the "Harry Potter" saga is as good as walking around with poop in your pants.
The story goes like this: Harry Potter is entered illegally into a tournament for best magic guy. He does great in a handful of competitions and wins the thing, but not before overcoming a certain level of adversity with splashes of underage romance and awfully disappointing attempts at humor.
Director Mike Newell, who also pioneered such gems as "Four Weddings and a Funeral," the horror-genre snoozer "The Awakening" and the dentist-office classic "Mona Lisa Smile," was very good at telegraphing every piece of action. I feel sorry for avid fans who slurp up everything J.K. Rowling barfs up, for they knew what was coming and could probably recite the book seven times in a row with a lesser degree of predictability.
To illustrate, there is a scene in which Harry and his team of wizards fight dragons to get some sort of golden egg. Harry is the last individual to fight a dragon (didn't see that one coming). Harry also has to fight the meanest dragon (shocker!). During the Harry vs. Dragon tussle, something bad happens — the killer dragon breaks his chain and chases good ol' Pots around Hogwarts, causing me to sit on the edge of my seat in sheer suspense … right. In the end, Potter gets lucky, the dragon disappears and audiences can breathe a collective sigh of relief.
So Harry fights this dragon — a large dragon, mind you — and after falling the entire height of Kilimanjaro, the film's hero is left with only a scratch on the face. No eyeballs hanging off or third-degree burns on his inner thigh — a scratch. Swift Boat Wizards for Truth should start advertising against Harry Potter's valor.
Along the action vein, the fight sequences were about as exciting as a lamp. This lack of excitement can be found in the way characters fight. The problem is that they fight with wooden-stick wands adorned with the ability to shoot light out the end. All these actors have to do is merely stand around and point. Thrilling? I don't think so. The tool of suspense wasn't even used. Instead, the tool of forecastability took the stage, shredding any scrap of excitement that existed in the film. In one of the closing scenes, Potter is fighting an impish-looking Ralph Fiennes and both characters use the same spell at the same time, standing around with the same strained looks on their faces. The action — if it can be called that — suddenly ends and characters go home. What would have made this movie better are guns, swords and cameos by Spiderman and Wolverine.
As far as humor, the jokes featured in the film were clichés or Harry Potter-type jokes — jokes derived from this awful world J.K. Rowling cooked up in her haze of what I can only rationalize as belonging to an alcoholic single mother.
So, aside from the directing, action scenes, plot and attempts at humor bringing this film down, the action proves the straw breaking this camel's back. Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) can't act. Neither can Emma Watson (Hermione Grainger). One scene, for example, features Harry crying over some dead magic kid, looking about as believable as a kid crying because he could only have two Reese's Peanut Butter cups instead of three. You're not really sad, Mr. Crocodile Tears. Obviously emotion comes hard for the British. Also, attractive British children and adolescents generally can't act. Any attempt at emotion was lost by the lack of acting skill — Newell must have had a "one-take" policy and put the first attempt at any scene in the movie.
The PG-13 rating was somewhat severe, as well. One wizard dies and these movie people go nuts. Nothing was excessively violent — no naughty words, no sex and, as stated above, fighting was carried out with sticks and light things. Think of "Star Wars" — that movie got a PG rating and decidedly more people died.
The thought that this movie was "darker" is also hooey. It was about as dark as a bleached anus and can often be mistaken as such. There is talk about this "dark lord" character and a potion that brings him back to life. Spooky, really spooky.
In its defense, "Goblet" wasn't completely horrendous. The CGI wasn't breathtaking — it was decent. Anytime fire-breathing dragons with spikes are involved, you earn points. And there was a possibility for some hot French lesbian action that never materialized.
"Goblet" isn't even good for a fun view. If you want to suspend what's going on in your life and put yourself in a magical world, it'd be better to watch reruns of "Thundercats."
And, for the record, yes, I have read some "Harry Potter" books. So I'd get it. Nerds.
Matthew Dolbey is a senior majoring in keeping geeks in touch with bad movies. He can be reached at [email protected].
