I've only seen one and a half Harry Potter movies, and that's all I need to know that that's all I need. Ever.
But when Gabriel called me on Saturday to ask me to help him earn his way into eternal geekdom, I agreed to go see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix only because Daniel Radcliffe had recently and rather forcefully invaded my consciousness, in ways that I am embarrassed to admit.
So after an hour and fifteen minutes of boring wizard politics (I'm not kidding), the film did kind of win me over. I guess any time teenagers form an aggressive rebellion against the clueless adults, you can count me in. Throw in a warehouse full of exploding crystal balls, and I'll stay 'til the end. Just don't ask me to the next Harry Potter movie. I really don't care if Harry, Ron, and Hermione ever throw that ring into the fire, and I also don't care to see Harry turn into Darth Vader in the last movie or whatever it is that exactly happens in the series. Tell me he takes off his shirt, and then I'm willing to negotiate.