"There Will Be Seven..."

Tonight, I'll be spending the better part of the evening at one of the local Chapters for the express purpose of being on hand for the midnight release of the grand finale of J.K. Rowling's wonderful fantasy children's series/epic, Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows. It's taken ten years to get to this point, although I somehow regret not really being tuned into it right from the very beginning. I didn't get started until the release of the first film (but read the book first).

I was sort of shrugging my shoulders at it all; not really hating it or apathetic to it, but for some reason it had barely been on my radar at all. A few kids in my class started talking about it, and a couple gave me the thumbs-up on it. I shrugged again and filed it away in the back of my head so I would remember to check it out "one of these days". Then my Mom told me she had gone to see the movie--and she uttered a phrase I had already learned to take very seriously:

"I think you might like it."

It doesn't sound like much, I know. But the thing is, she had only used it twice before; I'm not a geek about Star Wars and The Lord of The Rings for nothing. So I immediately moved the books onto the Priority list. I went to the school library looking for the title Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone...only to find that it was out, but that they did have a book called Harry Potter And The Socerer's Stone. Slightly annoyed, but assured by my librarian friend that nothing was fundamentally different ('parking lot'? I ask you...) I picked it up, finished it in about a day, and was totally enthralled by it all. Rowling was lively, imaginative, and possessed of a remarkably sharp sense of humour--which I still believe to be one of her great gifts. After that I was absolutely hooked. The plus side of getting in during the fourth book was not having to wait quite so long as everbody else for The Order of The Phoenix, which I picked up in-store at midnight. I did the same for The Half-Blood Prince...and now I find I will do the same for The Deathly Hallows. I know that whatever happens tomorrow, it will be an amazing and wonderful ride.

My grandma asked me the other day if I thought that it would all survive the hype, and actually become what we call a "classic". The honest answer to that is: only time will really tell. I think it has the ability to, and I think it just might, but I can't truly say for sure.

This may be the last book, but it's far from over for me. When I finish The Deathly Hallows, the story will be told in full...but it isn't going anywhere. I'll put it on the shelf right next to the other books and I will say, That was astounding. And just think: it will always be there on the shelf, always another world to be explored, always an adventure to have again and again for years to come. I'll read it enough times to have it memorised, and then read it some more. I'll read it to my children and pass it on. Who knows? Maybe they will read it in the same way as me, and eventually read it to their children. That's how classics are made. By people loving the stories, and sharing it with others who love them just as much.

And if something is a classic...then it's never really goodbye.

Be seeing you,
Steven

A Five-Star Menu

So the other day Mom, our homestay student, and I went out to the theatre to see the latest from that wonderful team of animation geniuses at Pixar: Ratatouille.

First off, there was some beautiful animation in this film. The food looked good enough to eat (which I'm sure they were aiming for) and the environments were very well designed. Probably the best example of this second point comes during a night-time scene by the river; the gentle fog that permeates the image *looks like real fog* and not just a filter stuck on after the fact. The animation is also given a couple showboats in the chase sequences, including one where Remy the rat is trying to escape the kitchen (the first time he's in one) while dodging various dangers and obstacles.

Second, the story is just fun. The idea that a rat can become a cook, enlisting the help of a young bottom-rung restaurant employee and vice-versa (you'll understand when you see the movie), is a concept that deserves an equally imaginative plot--and it gets it. Possibly the one aspect that doesn't work quite as well as hoped is the narration. It's sort of scattered and pops up at unexpected moments throughout the film, giving the impression that it's only there to fill in plot points they couldn't figure out how to get across any other way. Another thing that bugged me was that, while the kitchen staff sounded like really interesting characters, they weren't worked into the story more--but that one's more due to personal taste and curiousity rather than the filmmaker's failing to do what they intended. I don't think those people were ever meant to be anything more than background to begin with, so it's not that great a sin.

All in all, a good piece of entertainment that really is fun for the whole family (which, by definition, includes adults). But then, what else can you expect from Brad Bird--the director responsible for The Incredibles?

Maybe not quite five stars, but certainly four-and-a-half, which is close enough.

Be seeing you,
Steven