HARRY POTTER AND THE CURSED CHILD by J.K. Rowling et. al.
Here’s a book that needs no introduction.
My rating: 4/5 stars
I’ll admit upfront to being helplessly, endlessly a huge Harry Potter fan. I read the first book when I was 10, and the seventh book when I was 18, so I grew up with the series as a major part of my life. People complain constantly that JKR should just let the world go–and she certainly could stand to think a few things through more, and approach certain subjects with more care–but I’m always down for more stories set in the world. I probably always will be.
This play was honestly everything I hoped and dreamed. The core plot is ridiculous. I love it. Time travel, surprise children a la some daytime soap opera, rampant homoerotic subtext, Draco with a ponytail. How could I want more?
Out of all of it, Scorpius is definitely the best part. His character came as a complete and pleasant surprise, and he’s a nice counterpart to Albus’s occasional douchey decisions. Their relationship was the heart of the story for me.
Which, of course, the writers had to scream NO HOMO about at the very end. But you’ll have to pry their canonical queerness out of my cold, dead hands.