I remember the time I bought my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows clearly. Well, I did blog about it and I read that post every so often so there’s just no way I can forget my experience, but still. After I bought my copy of the book the day it was released, I went straight home and read it. As I finished the novel, I realized that I was just about to be late for work. Sleep? Fuck that. I went to work groggy as hell and doing a fuckton of things wrong. I didn’t care. I just finished the seventh Harry Potter book – nothing else mattered.
And now, four years later, I’m watching Deathly Hallows Part 2 – eighth and last film of the Harry Potter film franchise (unless they decide to reboot the damn thing, like what Hollywood does to so many things as of late) and is based on the final, epic book (DUH). However, I’m not going to be one of those fans who will go “Harry Potter is over – a part of my childhood died!” because I was in college when I started reading it, and that sort of distress over childhood memories is reserved for Turtles Forever and when Mirage sold the rights to the TMNT to Nickelodeon to make a possibly craptastic TV show.
As much as I love the Harry Potter series, I came in the theater expecting only three things:
- Luna Lovegood’s legs
- Cho Chang’s face (what a kyotiepie)
- Hermione Granger’s tits
With the prospect of tits in mind, I went to the theater to ogle at Emma Watson. As you know, I take my nerd rage very seriously. Just look at how much me and RJ hated Green Lantern over at Comicgasm. Deathly Hallows is just one of those things that you can easily fuck up – just look at Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, for instance – it’s easily my favorite book of the series, but the movie was just about meh.
I wasn’t expecting something spectacular, actually. I always thought the best Harry Potter film was Prisoner of Azkaban, and the rest of the films have been either just acceptable or meh. Instead I ended up spending one the best 2 hours of my life laughing, being slack-jawed and teary-eyed at the screen. Yes, I am not afraid to admit that I shed manly fucking tears at this movie. While ogling Emma Watson’s cleavage shots, of course. What.
I thought it was very close to perfect. Seriously, Harry Potter couldn’t have ended with a better movie than this.
Five out of five creepy glances at Emma Watson’s boobage.
What do you think of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2?