Movie Review: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

The Boy Who Lived has been murdered by Mike Newell and Steve Kloves.

All the critics are idiots, and so are most of you readers. I went to see Goblet of Fire on Saturday morning, on a weekend where that pile of trash netted Warner Bros. over $100 million from pea-brained simps (aka small children) and gullible film scholars (i.e. your IBSMART admins). Maybe it is the writer in me that demands far more integrity from an adaptation of a book than the average person. Maybe it is the fact that the piss-poor cinematography gave me a migraine headache for the rest of the day.

Whatever it is, this movie unequivocally sucked (a) major cock(s). Mike Newell, director of romantic comedies and romanticized back-alley abortion flicks, failed to even earn a pew at the grand desk chair of Godfather Alfonso Cuaron, director of Prisoner of Azkaban (and a mexicano sucio tambien...y tu mama tambien). I have read Goblet of Fire twice. Master Puppeteer read it three times, and we were both begging for the movie to slow down. About 150 pages of text are covered in about a half hour at the film's opening. Lord Voldemort's appearance, the climax of the novel, is a footnote. Ralph Fiennes, the only high point of the film as Voldemort, was but a minor character. If you haven't read the books (you idiot), you would not know from the films that Voldemort is an archetypal force that drives the progression of nearly all of the major characters in the books (he's also Puppeteer's idol and god).

Hence the principal problem of all of the films. Only Azkaban (the weakest book in the entire series) was successful in conveying the style and intent of Rowling's works. J.K. Rowling (the only relevant woman writer of note), like any quality writer, has primary structural and stylistic purposes to each of her novels. Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix are meant to develop and advance the emotional and motivational spectra of the primary and supporting characters. The films, made out of financial expediency rather than artistic dedication, fail to achieve this ends. In terms that even IB seniors can comprehend, the films have engaged in coitus more ferarum on J.K. Rowling and her children (not to mention the books...and not in a metaphorical sense).

So, in conclusion, stay the hell away from Goblet of Fire. Watch "Walk the Line" or "Jarhead". Hell, watch "One Night in Paris" if you have to. You're watching the same damn thing in Goblet of Fire, for a lot less money.

Written by Webster and Master Puppeteer (IBSMART film experts)

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