I watched Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince last night (well, this morning after midnight). I have not spent much time lately reading the Harry Potter books or blogs, but there was a two year period where that was pretty much how I spent my leisure. Perhaps the highest compliment I can pay the series is that I so wanted it to be real. And I never wanted it to end.
So while I enjoyed the movie thoroughly while watching it, I am now left feeling nostalgic, which I hate. I have never been able to articulate my ambivalence to nostalgia in general, but I cannot leave it alone. Then I feel blue afterwords.
Compounding the problem is that I have never quite forgiven the series for not being real. Also, the movies have always been ersatz Harry Potter for me—a little something to tide me over until the next book. But now there will be no more books (allegedly) so I will have to make due with the ersatz.
About the movie itself: once again it hewed close to the book and had little explanation of what occurred in past movie; the movie does not stand on its own. If someone goes to the movie only having watched each of previous films once, they'll probably be lost. (To borrow a phrase from another blog, "It helps to have written a thesis project on J.K. Rowling’s boy wizard." So obviously I had no problem.