Dear Potterheads.
I feel your pain. I understand exactly what you’re going through right now. I too had an out of body experience watching this new Fantastic Beasts movie. I stepped out of the cinema and stepped out of myself. Suddenly it was 1999. I was standing there, looking down at my lightsaber-wielding teenage self, who was struggling to come to terms with the mediocrity that lay before him, whose mind was racing to find something (anything!) to love about this movie that he had waited so very long to see, but who knew, deep down, that his childhood had come to an end.
Yes, my fellow fanboys and fangirls, this is exactly what it felt like to love Star Wars in the late 1990s and early 2000s. You understand now what it means to be invested in a world so deeply, so completely, to want to experience the continuing adventures of these characters that defined your childhood, and be met with nothing but hostility.
But before we get into all of that, I was wondering if you could help me out. Because I left this movie with a lot of questions. What are these supposed “secrets” of Dumbledore? Is it his homosexuality? Is it Credence’s lineage? Hasn’t all of that already been revealed? Does the movie in any way address its title? Was Dumbledore’s plan to not have a plan also how J.K. Rowling and Steve Kloves wrote the script for this movie? Why don’t these characters have any agency? Why did Yusuf Kama infiltrate Grindelwald’s gang? What was his plan? Why is Katherine Waterston’s Tina barely in this movie? Can you name one thing that Newt does to “actually” save the world? What was the point of that whole prison break scene? Didn’t Bunty ask the German bag maker to make six replicas of Newt’s suitcase? Which means there should have been seven suitcases in all. So why then did we only see five bags in the third act?
And it’s not that the movie didn’t make any sense. Despite all of these inconsistencies, it was still surprisingly coherent. It just felt utterly pointless.
While I’ve read all of the books and seen all of the movies, I wouldn’t describe myself as a Potterhead. I don’t own any wands. I have no idea what house I would belong to. I can’t tell you the difference between portkeying and apparating. I do, however, have an intimate knowledge of being in an abusive relationship with something I love deeply. If there’s one thing every Star Wars fan knows, it is that Star Wars giveth and Star Wars taketh away. There is a Solo for every Rogue One. The highs of The Last Jedi will almost always be followed by the utter heartbreak of The Rise of Skywalker.
Now your initial instinct is going to be to defend this movie at all costs. You’re not stupid. You know it’s objectively bad. And right now, it feels like acknowledging that would call the very nature of your fandom into question. (It won’t!) Were you wrong? (You aren’t!) Was there always something inherently rubbish about Harry Potter? (There wasn’t!) Is it just childhood nostalgia clouding your sense of good taste? (It isn’t!)
So fight it. Because it is only once you express your disappointment and disinterest that we might end up with something better. You can no more defend Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore than I can The Phantom Menace. Or U2’s Songs Of Innocence. Or Thor: The Dark World. Because to do so would be to do the entire franchise a disservice.
By now, you would have come across any number of think pieces that have tried to explain the reasons behind the franchise’s sudden decline. From Vanity Fair to Variety, these articles list a cornucopia of controversies that have plagued the series, from behind the scenes drama involving Johnny Depp and Ezra Miller, to J.K. Rowling’s deeply polarizing views on gender identity, to the corporate shuffling taking place at the studio itself. (As “fans” of things, you and I both know that servicing our needs goes a long way to making us forget about whatever real world issues surround a particular movie. Data shows that U.S. sales of Rowling’s books have actually increased over the last few years.)
While this confluence of events feels like a recipe for disaster, the real problem, however, is that these movies just aren’t very good. They are unnecessarily convoluted. There are far too many characters. They are centered around a narrative that doesn’t seem to possess any tension or carry any real consequence. But worst of all, they are no longer about Newt Scamander or his Fantastic Beasts. A fact made abundantly clear by how the words “Fantastic Beasts” become smaller and smaller on the poster of every consecutive movie.
Maybe J.K. Rowling just isn’t a great screenwriter. (Writing books and writing movies are two completely different skillsets.) Maybe they shouldn’t be trying so hard to pivot this series towards Dumbledore. Maybe they should just focus on growing the world and moving past Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Maybe it’s all of the above. But where do they go from here? After the mess that is Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore, I have to ask if you’re still looking forward the last two movies that you were promised? Or should they just call it quits and start again with something new?
And what about you? What can you do in the meantime?
In the face of such creative trauma, there is an urge to retreat into the paraphernalia, even the Apocrypha, of Potter. You will feel the urge to buy toys and merchandise, to reread those original books and rewatch those first eight movies. You’ll want to take a deep dive into all of the fan fiction that’s out there. You’ll wish for that time when J.K. Rowling was more beloved than controversial. (Lucas may not have had questionable views on gender, but he too was at risk of being cancelled after making Greedo shoot first!)
I say do it! Seek out whatever it is you can that allows you to recapture some of the magic of Harry Potter. Hold on to that original image you had of famed Magizoologist Newt Scamander, before he was so unceremoniously relegated to being Albus’ errand boy. (Yes, I too was annoyed by the fact that all he did in this movie was to run around telling different people that he had a message for them from Albus Dumbledore.) Revisit Prisoner of Azkaban and revel in how tightly plotted those stories once were. Embrace it. It’s all you have for now.
For now.
Because I’m also here to tell you that it’ll be okay. It’ll get better. Eventually, the franchise will land in the hands of a new guardian, with bold new ideas, and a compelling vision. You too will get your very own Jon Favreau. And if you’re really lucky, your version of The Mandalorian. But before that, however, you will probably need to suffer through the inevitable big screen adaptation of The Cursed Child. Before its eventual revival, before that Harry Potter renaissance, you too will have to endure Warner Bros.’ misplaced notion that the way to inject new life into the series is to bring back those legacy characters.
Until then, until whatever happens happens, stay strong, stay true, and remember that nothing they do can ever ruin your childhood.
Sincerely.
A long-suffering Star Wars fan.
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