Hamwine or no...

Let it never be said that Tara punks out on dares.

Your Mom Goes to Hogwarts.

Those prefects sure know how to live when it comes to bath time. Countless faucets spewing all sorts of mysteriously colored liquids, including but not limited to scented bubble baths, artesian spring water and bleach, judging by Harry’s complete lack of skin pigmentation. But here’s what really got us. You may not know this, but the actress who plays Moaning Myrtle is forty. Now we defy you to watch that scene again without getting creeped out.

Apparently the HP folks learned from the failed merchandising of the recent Star Wars films. Tara attempted to locate some fun HP stuff as an act of goodwill for her recent visit to Lisa’s pad. An hour in Target ended with nothing except some chocolate and bug gum, both completely unrelated to HP. Where will Tara get her blue Beauxbatons tracksuit? Will Lisa ever locate a Hogwarts hoodie? These questions will never be answered.

Both authors also feel confident in their ability to fire off a biting insult to the average British citizen should the need arise. Nothing puts fear into the hearts of your enemies like a good “You stink!” or an angry “Off to bed with you!” Thankfully, Moody is around to properly school young Hogwarts students about the proper way to harass others. It’s nice to see someone else who shares our belief that transfiguration, rather than communication, is the best way to deal with any problems one may encounter. Good thing this movie taught us the correlation between ferrets and crotches in the Hogwarts establishment that may otherwise have gone unnoticed.


Here’s what you need to succeed at the second task: a kick-ass calf wand holster and some flora phlegm. Consider yourself warned: even that won’t ward off the creepy shark-tailed merpeople. This sentiment may stem from a too-early viewing of Jaws that left Lisa permanently scarred. But those are her issues… maybe Tara should finish up this paragraph. Speaking of the merpeople, we’re pretty sure that Ariel didn’t look like that. If she did, becoming a human was the best choice she ever made. Other issues with this task come from Harry’s failure to recall that he is a wizard until after the task was officially over. Could he not have used his blast-out-of-the-water spell at the beginning of the task rather than waiting until he was about to be drowned by the MIB underwater alien babies? Honestly, Harry. You could have won that task. What would Pappy Potter have done? He would have acted like a wizard, this much we assure you. He also would have tapped into the wizard cappuccino machine sitting on the viewing platform. Any respectable wizard would have.


And after several more scenes about which we can’t think of anything snarky to say, we come to the final task. The Hogwarts students gather round to watch the Champions enter the labyrinth and then sit there, essentially blind to any goings-on of the task for however many hours it takes for someone to find a Triwizard cup in several square miles of hedge maze. Sounds like a blast- where can we buy tickets? At least they’ve got the bizarro-wizard instruments to keep them entertained. Geez, and we thought regular baritones were bad.

Dumbledore gathers the Champions around him to give them some mysterious and basically unhelpful words of pseudo-wisdom: “In the maze, you'll find no dragons or creatures of the deep. Instead you'll find something much more challenging: A waning CGI budget.” Or something to that effect. Then, they enter the last task: Attack of the Killer Shrubbery. Most of us have had a horrifying experience or two involving shrubbery. Whether it be an unfortunate incident involving excessive mixing of certain beverages with a Metro ride gone horribly wrong or a childhood game of hide and seek ending with a terrifyingly translucent spider crawling menacingly towards you, shrubs are something we can all unite against. At least we can be safe in the knowledge that we have never had hedges that would attack with little to no warning. Simple blessings. It could be hoped that a tournament reliably known to end in the gruesome death of at least one of its participants would have a bigger final challenge than restless shrubbery and the occasional errant vine. Gone are all the daunting creatures that filled the book-maze; they’ve been omitted in favor of the Stiff Wind of Bad Sportsmanship.


So Harry and Cedric grab the cup together, blah blah transported to a cemetery blah. And while Lisa did not take Tara up on her twenty dollar bet to stand up and shout this to the masses in the theater, she will here:

CEDRIC IS IMMEDIATELY AK’D BY WORMTAIL.

Sorry, Ced. Then it’s time for Cooking with Pettigrew: a dash of your estranged father’s femur, a pinch of your lackey’s entire right hand, a tablespoon of your arch nemesis’ blood and baby, you got a stew goin’. Creepy giant naked fetus stew. BAM! Lord Voldemort has returned with less of a nose than Michael Jackson, and he’s super pissed about his terrible manicure and his lack of flip-flops. This calls for an evil class reunion: the still-loyal Deatheaters zoom in from parts unknown and prepare to rock it old school, but not until after Voldy rips off their hoodies and Mardi-Gras masks and makes them cry like little girls. That man is the master of the “your mother” joke genre. Perhaps Malfoy should invest in some Deatheater static cling spray- he definitely had some frizzies when his hood came off.

Voldy then turns his attention and his insults to Harry, who promptly hides behind a gravestone before eventually facing him in a combination magical laser light show and cage match to the death. Lisa sat a bit close to the screen due to a misunderestimation of travel time, and the sudsy magic that flowed freely from their wands was so bright her eyes were watering. Were we ever involved in such a duel, we would do well to remember sunglasses, is what we’re saying here. The tears of a sensitive-eyed individual are not very intimidating.


Now, we aren’t going to ruin the ending of the movie for you. Maybe Harry Potter dies in the end of the movie based on the fourth book of a series of seven books, all of which are named after him. We’re in no position to spoil that for you. Go out and enjoy the movie while it’s still in theaters- God knows we did.

mischief managed...

Harry Potter and the Never-Ending Blog: Pappy...er, Partie Deux

A week has passed since the first installment of Tara and Lisa's wisdom. It's good to see all the hard work inspired two comments, a full half of which were posted by the authors themselves. Our dedication to ourselves is astounding. Thank you, Tara, for your insight.

It’s a shame we couldn’t have seen the other Champions in the first task, but we accept that this didn’t happen in the book and based on our previous nitpicking, this wish would make us complete hypocrites. No one wants that. We waited in the tent with Harry, and that’s fine. We got to see the trunks of ‘Hogwarts Field Supplies,’ which should be available for purchase at any upscale outdoor sporting goods retailer. When opened, they reveal a small placard that reads “Your damn wand, because you’re a wizard, you idiot.” The tent also held beds for the sleepy Champions to rest a bit before their task. A little nap before you face your dragon. “I’m just gonna take a nap while you guys tackle the dragons. Someone set an alarm for me, ‘kay? I don’t want to sleep through my task. Good talk- I’ll see you out there.”

Maybe we don’t have the flair for the dramatic timing that Mr. Potter does, but we’d be Accio Firebolt-ing it as soon as we set foot into that rock quarry, especially knowing that the broom was going to take the scenic route to get to us. And to hell with the broom anyway- why not Accio the egg and be done with it? Unless you think the egg had charms on it to prevent such actions, in which case congratulations, you have officially over-thought the first task.

Once the Firebolt decides to arrive, though, we must commend Harry on flying right through the professors’ tent. That was an awesome dick move apropos of nothing. And one would think that the spectators would be mildly curious as to what Harry was doing after the dragon broke its chain and chased him out onto campus. You’d be wrong. Not even a magically conjured Jumbo-tron to let them know if their classmate has been charbroiled. The safety measures discussed in the book were obviously eschewed in favor of rooftop tension- and Harry doesn’t even get a spotter. These Triwizard organizers aren’t screwing around with the death and the peril. Not even the Hogwarts roof shingles or random stone aqueducts were safe. “Welcome to the Triwizard Tournament! Our first task will be sponsored by the Wizarding Roofing and Masonry Union Local #142.”


After the first task, Harry has a huge cut on his face, which we later see is being held closed by (presumably) mystical, magical butterfly bandages. You’d think they’d have a spell for that. Speaking of things they should have spells for, several times during the movie I was tempted to raise an imaginary wand and shout ORTHODONTIUM! at a set of particularly British teeth. And Karkarov… Remind us not to sign up for the Azkaban Dental Plan. EVER.


The Harry Potter series is known as a set of books that are appropriate for both children and adults. If this is the case, why must all readers in their twenties be disenfranchised by the obvious lack of any twenty-ish characters in this movie? Two opportunities were usurped by the moviemakers’ attempt to cut down on time as well as their obvious lack of nerdiness concerning book details. Example one: Ron’s brother, Charlie, is cut out of the illicit dragon-viewing scene. Many may have wondered what Charlie would look like. Unfortunately, he looked like he’d cost too much to have in the movie, so we’ll never know. He is described as being good-looking in the book, so why deny the Gen X crowd a little eye candy? Thanks a bunch. (Author’s note: This is particularly disturbing to Lisa, who likes the occasional redhead. Other Author’s note: That’s a lie and you know it, you dirty bitch.)

Example two: It’s a common misconception that ghosts don’t age. This is clearly not the case in HP world. When we see Harry’s parents, they are somehow the same age as their living classmates despite the fact that they have been dead for going on thirteen years. Oops, another way to cut out some 25 year olds.

This change may not have been as noticeable had the actor chosen to play James/Pappy not been such a complete nerd. (Glossary: Pappy Potter – Affectionate term used to refer to Harry’s deceased father/pappy, James Potter. Phrase coined following the unanswered question, “Whatever happened to Harry’s grandparents?”) The badass Pappy Potter of the books should not appear onscreen looking like a forty year-old accountant whose most significant accomplishment in life is his remarkably extensive sweater vest collection. He doesn’t look like someone who would stick it to the man, as Pappy frequently did. (Author’s note: This is especially distressing to Tara, who enjoys a good case of crazy-hair and sports an unhealthy obsession with what she insists on calling “sticking it to the man.” We’re not sure what “it” is, and we don't care to find out. Other Author’s note: There’s nothing wrong with sticking it to the man, as he’s out to keep us all down. And at least I don’t dig on the redheads, ass.)


Snape beating the hell out of the backs of Ron and Harry’s heads? Best scene in the movie. Also, kudos to Fred and George on getting some acting lessons. Not cringing after every line they speak is definitely an improvement.

We loved how anyone at the ball with any hint of some sort of foreign nationality to them shopped at Ethnicities R Us for their dresses. And as Harry and Parvati walked in, she was waving around at her adoring public like she had just been crowned Miss Hogwarts 2005. Keep it in your sari, princess. You’re a last resort. And while everyone else was hitting up the Stereotype Stripmall for his or her Ball couture, Ron did his shopping in Elton John’s trashcan. You’d think Hermione could’ve helped him out with a little DE-LACE-IA! and a couple blasts of SARTORIAL ADJUST-IUM! Then maybe his tuxedo-dress could’ve been as pretty as Harry’s. Geez, Hermione. Quit bein’ such a bitch. Surely Mrs. Weasley would have a book on this matter. Hell, even a pair of scissors would’ve helped.

The wizard band and their Muppet-skin outfits were apparently good enough in the wizarding world to inspire a midget mosh pit, which is always a good time. But honestly? Their lyrics were trite and the singing was a little bit pitchy, dawg. Ha- kidding. Midget mosh pit equals an automatic A+.

And finally, hooray for Neville “I Could Have Danced All Night” Longbottom for finally getting one day in his life where no one’s telling him how useless he is… or how his parents are insane gum wrapper collectors… or how bad his teeth are… and wow, we hope this kid never goes on the internet and Googles himself. Sorry, Nev. But really, way to go on the dancing.

In the next installment: water and nudity in varying degrees of creepiness, angry shrubberies, the ferocity of British verbal dueling and reasons not to grab pretty, shiny objects.

A word to the wise...

I mock because I love. Don't doubt the extent of my nerd-love for HP- there's still two more blog sections to go.

Merlin's Beard! The Long Awaited Tara and Lisa and the Goblet of Fire Blog: Part One

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. 154 minutes, rated PG-13 for sequences of fantasy violence, frightening images, Ron saying "piss off," giant sexuality and creepy fetal nudity. Opens November 18th, 2005 so yes, this did take us over a month to complete. Shut up, we’re very busy and important.


A word to the wise – if you’re, hypothetically, debating in the car if you should wear your Gryffindor scarf into the theater, and some guy walks past you in an unruly black wig and round spectacles, you can rest assured that your scarf will not mark you for mockery. You are among friends. However, if you wear sorting hats AND bring books to read, some guy working for a newspaper will photograph you, and I will hate you for outdoing me.

Harry Potter movies are also excellent for eighteen flavors of Mom vs. Mom seat hostility. In some perversion of the natural instinct to protect one’s young we can observe the fierce instinct to get ones bratlings the best theater seats possible, even if it be at the expense of ones own senses of propriety and human dignity. Hilarious, really. Unless you get in the middle of such an encounter- it’s best to stay an uninvolved observer in these cases. Get there early and set up a blind of Goober boxes and popcorn bags so as not to disturb the delicate balance of nature.


Any movie that is based on a book is bound to be plagued by our arch nemesis: the Lecturing Scholar. These individuals can vary in age, volume and veracity; a single scholar can ruin a movie, and there is currently no screening process to weed them out. Under the guise of either helping out or showing off, they feel the need to name each character and explain in detail his or her importance to the plot, how the cast actor or actress differs from the scholar’s own mental image of him or her, and any memorable quotes from the book they can recall. As there are usually no outward physical symptoms of this condition, avoiding them during the seating process can be difficult: they do not reveal themselves until the theater is dark and the opening credits are rolling. The only remedy for an L.S. is the Anonymous Angry Shhh or, failing that, the Half Head Turn and Peripheral Vision Glare. Advanced individuals may feel comfortable combining these two techniques into an exceptionally effective silencing method, but your average moviegoer should practice at home before attempting this in public. It’s best to silence the L.S. rapidly and immediately lest he or she fall under the impression that anyone is interested in their undoubtedly encyclopedic knowledge of “who Nagini is.” Thanks for the tip- we read the books too. But we have the sense to keep our conspiracy theories to ourselves until we can elaborate on our blogs.

What conspiracy theories, you ask, even if you didn’t? Tara, for one, wants to know what’s up with the conspiracy against women in this movie. Here’s a probable conversation between author J.K. Rowling and GoF director Mike Newell.

MN: We need to cut out some time. Let’s lose Momma Weas, Cedric’s mom and Mrs. Crouch. While we’re at it, let’s make Moaning Myrtle and Rita Skitter creepy, creepy pedophiles.

JKR: That sounds fine, but don’t destroy too many female characters, because I did that a lil bit already. I made Fleur the most worthless champion. Harry’s mom is only in GoF because I needed someone to play the secretary announcing the arrival of Pappy Potter. Oh, and don’t forget that Nagini, the evil snake, is female.
MN and JKR slap each other five and call it a day.

One thing from the book that was (sort of) left in the movie was the Quidditch World Cup. If you don’t know what Quidditch is, we’re not exactly clear why you’re reading any of this. It’s only gonna be down the steep, slippery slope of nerd-dom from here on out. Some viewers were freaked by the Sonorus-ication of Fudge (see what we mean with the nerd?) while others were freaked by Vertigo Stadium, which hosted what little we saw of the QWC. They cut out most of the Quidditch for Ron’s recitation of ‘How Do I Love Thee, Krum? Let Me Count The Ways.’ Some contributors to this blog think that Ron is worthless. These individuals nearly wet their pants at the line “Ron Weasley, Harry Potter’s stupid friend,” and felt that it summed up their attitude perfectly. Others just kind of laugh and try to reiterate that book-Ron is really quite humorous and that also that he’s a fast runner. So Ron’s pretty much a mixed bag.


Some aspects come with an explanation for why they were cut, while others were added for no discernible reason. Case in point: the ceiling freak-out when Moody entered. Elements of Harry Potter movies should not confuse twenty four-year-olds. Also, how did young Barty Crouch Jr. know all the magic that Moody, an experienced auror, would know? Perhaps as a boy he held some sort of internship with The Man, or else was enrolled in some sort of fast track to the Upper Echelons of Ultimate Evil grooming program. The world may never know, or even wonder about it too much. Oh, and speaking of grooming- Crouch? The Hitler ‘stache went out for a reason. Please shave accordingly. At least we can be grateful that Sporadic Evil Snake Tongue is not a heritable trait. Unfortunately, his Chicklet front teeth à la Mr. Wilson in Dennis the Menace would be passed on to the next generation – and yes, feel free to marvel at the depth of my cultural allusions. Inexplicable random creepiness in lieu of actual story events: curious call, filmmakers.


By cutting straight to the QWC, we also miss out on our yearly Dursley fix. And in this book, that means no embarrassingly over-stamped letter, no busting of the wall in front of the fireplace, and no twins slipping Dudders the infamous toffee. In short, no magical bitchslap of the Dursleys at all, unfortunately. Since they didn’t have to pay the Dursley actors this year, you’d think they could’ve splurged and bought Dumbledore more than one effin’ robe for the entire movie. Surely his Muggle equivalent would have his own clothing line. Dumbledore’s Duds. Dumbledresses. “D.” Albie-D would definitely have been invited to many a friendly game of Butterbeer Beirut. His pimpin’ dress did nothing to cover the Butterbeer belly that was obviously cultivated with constant dedication to the art of the drink. The question remains: Butterbeer or Firewhiskey? One could guess that it depends on which choice could give his nail beds the creepy pallor of recent death they seemed to have. However, don’t ask Dumbledore about the estimated one billion rings he wore throughout the movie. He doesn’t like talking about his flair.


Hermione stated that the whole purpose of the Triwizard Tournament was to improve international magical cooperation. Not going to lie here: it’s a little difficult to take visiting schools seriously when their students either flounce around exhaling butterflies à la American Beauty or stomp around doing a magical dance with sparking pimpsticks. When did we have time to learn that, boys? Sample Durmstrang schedule: 8:00 - Charms; 10:00 - Potions; 1:30 - Tumbling and Dance.

Question: Why were the eventual champions not involved in the ShowOff-tacular designed to astound and amaze the students of Hogwarts? Answer: Dancing like a circus monkey does not an angry champion make. And Fleur didn’t want to wrinkle her satin whore outfit. ‘Nuff said.


In the next installment: HP goes mano a dragon, we cover some spells that should have been, expose some GenX disenfranchisement and play a little Dance Dance Revolution – Wizard Edition.