Potter blindness

Yesterday due to an unexpected block of free time totaling over an hour, I went to the first film I've been able to attend in, what, six months? My car was in the shop getting a new clutch, making the film (or the commute) one of the most expensive in living memory, for me.

It was a screening of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire at Pacific Place, and I enjoyed the film. At this point I think the franchise has more-or-less figured out how to deal with the overly-formulaic books and barring a sudden change in plumerie from Ms. Rowling, expect the films to deliver a richer experience than the written precursors.

However, it's three months too late for a review of this film, so what I'm really interested in reporting is that in theater, um, 3 (?) last night, for whatever reason, a) there were no previews whatsoever for any filum, and furthermore, the interminable ad reel portion of our evening was presented, radically, entirely sans image. In my excitement, I failed to note if the good patrons were storming the gates in search of animated polarbears and the like, but that failure in and of itself constitutes reportage - there was certainly no hub-bub of complaint.