So, Tom Felton isn’t messing around post-Potter — I don’t know how big his role is, but apparently he’s in Rise of the Planet of the Apes, coming out later this summer. See? Draco Malfoy, finally making good. Unless the movie is terrible, although thanks to its total LACK of humans parading around in simian costumes, it has a huge leg up on Tim Burton’s entry into that canon. I hope Tom and HBC sat down and had long chats comparing the two scripts. Preferably while in costume. I love the idea of Bellatrix Lestrange and Draco Malfoy nibbling on crumpets and discussing the nuances of monkey emotions.
Fug File: Harry Potter
When I was pregnant with my twins, my dad always referred to them either as Itchy and Scratchy, or Fred and George. He did love the hijinks of the Weasley twins, and he was not alone; I totally wish the movies had made more time for them, but what can you do? Those are some seriously long books. Maybe Hollywood went about this all wrong. Maybe Ken Burns needed to do this as an 800-part miniseries, executed in eyelash-curling detail. Well, somebody put a pin in that idea until 2031, okay? That’s twenty years from now, which seems like it’s (blasphemously) becoming the average shelf life for a movie before getting itself remade or reimagined. Really, it’s a miracle nobody has remade Back To The Future, or anything by John Hughes. WAIT. STOP. NOBODY PUT A PIN IN THAT.
Being as she’s become a fashion plate of sorts, we’ve covered rather a lot of Emma Watson over the years (which you can revisit here, and then also here), and lavished praise on her for growing up to be a poised, articulate, thoughtful young lady who is not all up in our grills with her underboob.
And, yes, we’ve poked fun at the suitcoats and hair and goofy grins of the Potter dudes over the years, but not NEARLY as much. So we thought it’d be fun — on the premiere date of the last installment, which will make some of you cry and others of you fall to your knees and scream hallelujahs at invisible angels, whom you are sure have rained love upon you at long last — to see how the guys from the franchise have grown up. We begin with one of my personal favorites, Ron Weasley — whom I like in the books, but LOVE in the movies, because Rupert Grint is perfect. It makes me all misty to see him as a tiny ginger cherub. And then misty in a different way to see his hair now, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves and just enjoy the ride.
In fairness to Clemence Poesy, although I could not find in any of our subscriptions a photo of her in which you could see the whole outfit AND she wasn’t making a face like this (like she’s been working in an airless, turn-of-the-century hat factory all day and the cafeteria has just told her that they’re out of profiteroles), there were plenty of shots where she was laughing with people. So rest assured that she is not miserable right now. Well, as far as we know:
Maybe L.A.’s Pacific Design Center should change its name to No, Not That Kind Of Design Center, so that nobody else commissions something for their exterior from a place that’s supposed to deal with interiors. It’s like Sinatra said: “Regrets, I’ve had a few.” And last night, if her expressions are to be judged, I think Emma was having them on an IV drip.