a seemingly random journey through cinema's heart of darkness. so to speak.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

A flimsy little exposé on J.K. Rowling

Last month, certain people cited Britain's Diana Wynne Jones, the author of Howl's Moving Castle, as a clear, almost libelous, inspiration for Rowling's neverending procession of blockbusters. To them, I ask: what about Troll? A modestly budgeted cheapie from the Corman-esque Empire Pictures, this 1986 cable classic features a character named Harry Potter going up against wizards, witches, magic, and, of course, trolls. Maybe the opus doesn't feature a sorting hat. But it does feature Sonny Bono slowly, slowly, slowly turning into a forest. No quidditch, maybe, but who needs an impenetrable game when you have a frügging Michael Moriarty? Not to mention that Hermione Granger has nothing on a young Julia Louis-Dreyfus prancing about in nothing but strategically placed leaves. Throw in flailing tentacles, a pathos-ridden midget, and June Lockhart as a modern day witch living in a roach motel apartment with a talking mushroom, and reappraisal is the only word I can think of.


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