Thursday, August 20, 2009

A Frank Review of "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: An IMAX 3D Experience" (2009)

The Short Version? 3D bitch boy wizard shit.
What Is It? Fantasy.
Who Is In It? The usual suspects, like the little girl that filled out and flashed her crotch, and the little boy that whipped out his cock around a horsey. Welcome to the internet age, right?
Should I See It? Whatever.

I'd heard buzzing about the Harry Potter phenomenon for a while before seeing the first picture, which I thought was crap. Since I'm a bookish brown-haired Caucasian with glasses in the barrio, I got nicknamed "Harry Potter" by a few idiots back in those days, though it never really took. I didn't mind, because even after much greater exposure to Potter fans and films and fiction, I still just really don't give two shits and a dull penny.

My girlfriend severely and unfortunately digs on this shit. I have to listen to the audiobooks in the car sometimes, and hear once again about the incredible award winning narrator who invented over 200 voices for his work that to me all still sound like a washed up middle aged actor. I drew a line in the sand over attending any of the movies, not out of macho pride as she claimed, but just because I damned well knew I didn't want to watch over two hours of this goddamned shit. I don't care how "dark" and "mature" folks claim the series becomes-- it's still a bunch of queer Tolkien retread shit built for kids. Take your retarded gobbledygook names and your sissy wands and use them to stir your fucking ass-cunts full of milky dew.

Anyhow, my girl passed her last semester by the skin of her teeth after entirely too much drama, so I finally broke down and suggested we see Harry Ballsack together (her second time,) so she could see the woo-hoo IMAX 3D version. I also made it very clear I intended to finally use the flask given to me for being a groomsman at a Spring wedding in order to spike the fuck out of my theater beverage with rotgut Russian vodka to ease my suffering. However, we ran around all that day, hit my favorite but rapidly declining Mediterranean buffet chain, caught an earlier feature, and developed food poisoning. I recall one bathroom break that went like I was running a bath out of my anus. I had no intention of throwing gasoline onto that diaretic bowelstorm, and would have to take on a midnight showing stone straight.

We got our chunky, too-tight 3D glasses and shared a theater with about two to four other humans. The trailer for Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs looked like my bathroom breaks, at which I would have gladly bypassed toilet paper for a beefy sponge. 9 made my penis swell. Where The Wild Things Are never impacted me much (I rolled more with Seuss, Judy Blume, James Howe, and even Shel Silverstein back then,) but the movie looks indie enough, and the 2D didn't make me feel woozy like the rest. The Final Destination was all balls and no brains, but I'll see it for the spectacle.

We were advised when to wear our 3D glasses, and at what point we should remove them. The Potter logo projected over our heads. We flew through a city really fast with these sentient black cloud fart things. A big bridge shook and shit broke. That was about it for the ostentatious 3D. Cut to Harry hanging out in a subway station restaurant. A fine ass black chick was serving and flirting with him. Especially in light of being subjected to a Harry Potter movie, I really had to fight the urge to reach out and grope this finely and accurately realized Nubian princess. Instead of getting his fuck on, Harry ditched the chick to visit an old wizard and other non-sexually arousing British people. This involved more flying and morphing, at the end of which we were deposited back in 2D land. You could tell by the row of no-3D glasses signs flashing on screen for a minute or so, just in case I was returning from a bathroom break. This was very important, as looking at normal film through 3D glasses will blind you quicker than a solar eclipse. Your eyeballs will smoke and you may well go stark drooling mad. It was a public service.

The total 3D trip time was about ten minutes. There was some stuff in there referencing previous movies I didn't get. The 3D experience was not new watcher friendly, as though exposition would do your brain worse than lingering with your 3D glasses on. I asked my girlfriend about that after the show, and she droned on for way longer than my attention span for the question. I've mentioned that I don't give a fuck, and was mostly making conversation. Maybe some of this shit was resolved during the 2D, but I proceeded to lay down across theater seats and go to sleep. Sadly, these seats were firm, and I really wished we could have seen it in a theater with reclining faux leather seats instead.

Anyway, the brief 3D sequence offers extraordinary perceived depths, among the best I've ever seen. Way not $13.50 per ticket best, but still awesome. If you like Harry Potter and/or getting reamed, I'd recommend seeing the picture in this format, though I can't imagine not being crushed by roughly two hours ten of the remaining picture without the 3D. If it helps, check out the cute black chick and think about how much closer we are to VR porn.

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