So I took my mother to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince the other night. They were showing it a few times every night, but there was also one special screening for over 18.
I thought perhaps, that meant a full version with spookier effects. Or perhaps, Daniel Radcliffe was going to strip for the ladies again. Who knows? My mother deserves the best. Therefore, should attend that one. Even though it cost more.
Husband, who of course is English, and knows what those guys really mean, warned us not to expect any kinkiness at Hogwards for an extra quid each. It means no kids would be allowed to that particular screening, he explained. So all those sad middle aged fans of Harry Potter could enjoy the movie in peace and quiet.
Mother looked skeptical. I could see she thought she knew better. Mother clearly wanted to go to the ‘over 18’ screening. So I took her.
Of course, I expected it to be empty. I had no idea there would be that many Harry Potter fans of various ages and sizes.
-Look at these weirdos!- I said- They are old! What are they doing, coming to a special screening of Harry Potter?
What about us?- my mother chuckled. Erm....
Just as the film was about to start, a young man walked in and announced loudly:
Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Over the 18 screening of Harry Potter and the Half- Blood Prince! Unfortunately, I personally will not be able to watch it with you, but my colleague- Katy, will. So, should you have any problems, please ask for her help!
Katy smiled reassuringly, and took a seat in the audience.
What sort of help were they expecting us to need? How gruesome was this Harry Potter going to be? Would she be prepared to hold our hands? Would she mind if one of those old chaps buried his face in her generous bosom because he was too afraid of the Death Eaters?
Oh, well. I suppose, this was the UK attempt at a private showing for the masses.
In Baku, I used to be a member of a private film club. It was at the back of the cinema, on the very top, with a glass wall to watch the screen from. Oh, what a decadence that was! Wow. I love decadence. I am an Azeri woman. Let me just tell you about that place. It was a small room, with dimmed lights, with a bar in the corner and comfy leather recliners. It had waitresses in short skirts serving beer, wine and peanuts.
That my friends, is what I call a private screening. Not some girl telling you she is there for you during Harry Potter should you have any problems. I have a problem. Can I have my pound back please?