I got the 2 DVD Special Edition–note, why not just make them all 2 DVD sets? Seriously. I hate all this Special Edition shit–Set of the 6th Harry Potter movie. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I reviewed it here. I started with the second DVD, the one with the special features, because we all know the reason I buy the DVD set in the first place: moar Alan Rickman!
Now, I realize the stupidity of this wish because the HP movies are kids movies, thus, most of the focus is on the trio and their friends. Still, I always hope for one deleted Snape scene. Just one. That’s not too much to ask, is it? I mean, I know that Alan Rickman is perfection itself and that to delete one of his scenes would be a travesty, but really! One snippet, one quote from him, any scrap I can get.
I slog my way through the painfully unfunny behind-the-scenes shtick. The actual behind-the-scenes look is interesting, but the patter that accompanies it is cringe-worthy. I work my way through (doing my exercise, to the soundtrack of Hedwig and the Angry Inch) a grinning Tom Felton (Draco) asking his costars a variety of questions. I start the commercial for the Harry Potter theme park in Orlando (is Alan Rickman going to be there? No? Then who the fuck cares?), but since they don’t actually show the theme park, I get bored and fast-forward through it.
Finally, I watched the deleted scenes. Mostly of the kids. I am getting gloomier and gloomier as each deleted scene goes by with nary a hint of Alan Rickman. Then, in the penultimate (I think) scene, ooooooooooh! There he is! Dark, gloomy, and the light shines upon Snape, his dark eyes glittering….Will he speak? Is he going to speak? Oh, please let him—and cut to Draco. Damn!

All right. Before I start my review of this movie, I have to explain a few things. I am a HUGE Hercule Poirot fan, and I have read every book at least five times (I have them all). When I first started watching movies on any kind on a regular basis (meaning with the aid of Netflix), I decided to see what was available in the Hercule Poirot oeuvre. I’ve seen Peter Ustinov as Poirot (not bad), Albert Finney as Poirot (truly horrible), and I even more recently saw Alfred Molina as Poirot (ok, but didn’t fit the role at all).
I am Batman. No, I’m not, but I did see Batman Begins last night, and in a movie theater, to boot. My favorite movie theater with its faux theatre look and organ player. I even bought a thing of popcorn, though I smuggled in my own water. I am not paying three dollars for twenty ounces of water-no way. Anyway, I went with a friend who’d already seen it but wanted to see it again. I settled in, not expecting much. Why? First of all, I knew Batman wasn’t going to die-nor anyone close to him save for his parents early on-which takes a lot of tension out of the movie. I mean, it’s hard to get too worked up when he’s in trouble knowing that he’ll make it out of there alive.
Ok. I like musicals. I am able to suspend my critical eye when it comes to plot, characters, etc. I don’t expect as much, narratively, as long as there is kick-ass music. Oh, some dancing is nice, too, but not required. I had read good things about Godspell, so I decided to give it a whirl.