MILLIONS of grown men and women have turned out to watch the latest film based on some childish drivel about a magic boy.
Barry Magic and the Wizardy Fairy Prince is the new instalment in the Chronicles of Barry Magic saga, featuring pixies, flying broomsticks and a long list of other things that no-one over the age of 10 should be entertained by, really.
Nathan Muir, a 36-year-old English teacher and adult, was last night queueing outside a London cinema wearing a poncho covered in crescent moons and straddling a mop.
He said: “The Barry Magic stories are clearly superior to any of the so-called ‘literary’ classics. No other series of books confronts with such savage, gripping clarity the experience of being a boy wizard under the tutelage of a benevolent magic owl called Mr Pobblechops.
“Has Joseph Heller got a family of benevolent magic owls? No, he hasn’t. Has JG Ballard got 10,000 flying moles in tinsel cowboy hats? No, he hasn’t.
“I bet if Joseph Heller wasn’t dead he would freely admit that Barry Magic and the Trumpet of Chaos makes Catch-22 look like a right load of old shit.”
The film adaptations feature a cast of distinguished British actors stretching their acting skills in a wide range of pointy hats and stick-on beards.
Sir Anthony Hopkins, who plays the half-terrier court jester Mr Bongowonk, said: “Some say that Barry Magic is just for children, simply because it’s about a group of characters who are children in situations clearly designed to appeal to children.
“But when the producers waved a nine-digit cheque under my nose, Mr Bongowonk’s hidden emotional depths suddenly became apparent. Especially in the scene where he gets turned into a massive blancmange by a naughty pixie wizard.”