When I was eleven years old, I discovered Harry Potter. Fitting, seeing as Harry was also eleven in the first book. I grew up with the guy almost year for year, and last night I had to experience the end. Again.
It was hard enough reading the end of the seventh book in the series. I almost didn't read Rowling's epilogue because doing so would mean it really was over, and I couldn't handle that very well. Harry Potter was and still is the greatest series of books I've ever read, and having to see it end nearly killed me.
But what a finish.
I never expected what I saw last night. The trailer for the final film made the movie look monumentally epic, the perfect way to end a phenomenon that lasted ten years (as far as the films go). And yet, as I sat in the theater as the credits rolled, I marveled at how much the movie still blew me away, even though I went in expecting the greatest Harry Potter movie ever made. I literally sat shaking as the lights came back on.
I've been seeing on Facebook reviews by my friends, saying the movie lacked what they hoped and they were a little disappointed. Maybe I convinced myself that they couldn't have made it much better, but I really can't see how people were disappointed at all. For me, the movie was absolutely fantastic. It made me want to cheer, weep, laugh, and get angry all at the same time, and that doesn't usually happen with me. Especially the crying part. That almost never happens with me. And I got so close to crying so many times in this movie. Even now, as I sit on my bed twelve hours after the movie ended, I want to cry.
I can't believe it's over.
I can't help but wonder what I'm supposed to do now that I'm no longer waiting for the next movie to come out. I suppose, since I got over it with the books, I'll survive. But when I turned the final page of the book, I knew there were still movies to come. Not so with the films.
It really is over, and now, like Harry, I have to grow up.
Goodbye, childhood.
No comments:
Post a Comment