It was a flaming disaster. My eight-year-old daughter is obsessed with Potter and his annoying mates. She watched and watched and watched those stupid films non-stop for two soul-crushing weeks. I wouldn’ t mind so much if she was able to just sit there quietly absorbed in it all and leave me to my iPhone. But she chatters incessantly throughout.“ Who do you prefer – Hermione or Ginny?”“ Is Snape a goodie or a baddie?”“ Whathousedoyouthinkyouwould be in if you went to Hogwarts?”“ Why are you weeping?”

The answers to each of these question is, of course,‘ I COULDN’ T GIVE AFLYINGFUCK!’ But, becauseIam acaringandsensitivefather, Idon’ t actuallysaythatoutloud. Ijustthink it. Allofthetime. Overandoverand over again. Meanwhile, I try to mumble responses that sound half-way legitimate, relying on the limited vocabulary of wizard-related bullshit I have unwillingly picked up along the way. This seems to be enough to satisfy her.

There is one thing I’ ve picked up forabsolutecertainduringthispainstaking cinematic endurance test: the Harry Potter story is a wilfully baling

sequence of nonsense, with no convincing rhyme, reason or point to it whatsoever. I heard an interview with JK Rowling once in which she claimed that she made up the whole saga from beginning to end on a single train journey. Bollocks did she. If ever there was a story that was made up on the hoof as the book deals kept rolling in it was this.

By the end, she’ s making up all sortsofrubbish. ItmakesthatColbys episode where Emma Samms got kidnapped by the aliens look like the Merchant of fucking Venice.

But the brazenly incomprehensible nature of the narrative actually seems to be one of the appeals, as far as my daughter is concerned. Kids don’ t grasp narrative and they find plots boring. They like stuf to be happening all the time. Wizards running down hallways. People turning into wolves. Lightning bolts. Flying cars. Exploding aunties. Just a massive montage of far-fetched bullshit involving wands and gowns and a big romantic-looking boarding school. Exposition, characterisation and arcs are just dreary mechanics that slow it all down and distract from the fun. In other words, the shitter the film, the more an eight-year-old kid likes it.

Damn you Potter, screw you Rowling and, as for you Sky Movies, thanks a lot for a shitty Christmas.

@ DelaneyMan

WILL YOU SEE THE LIGHT?

At this point of the month the resolution to go to the gym three times a week or to have a dry January starts to look a bit wobbly. For those with weak willpower there are, luckily, plenty of other things to keep you occupied.

Lumiere London( January 14-17, various locations, London; visitlondon. com / lumiere) is described as“ the biggest-ever light festival to hit the capital”. A series of international artists will light up parts of King’ s Cross and the West End over four consecutive evenings, transforming buildings through 3D projections and interactive installations. Familiar locations seen through new eyes.

“ How bona to vada your dolly old eek!” If that means nothing

to you, skip to the next event. If it makes your nostrils flare open in joy, then Round the Horne: 50th Anniversary Tour( January 18 – March 12, Bloomsbury, London; museumofcomedy. com) is for you. It revives the classic Sunday radio series that made Kenneth Williams a star and introduced the country to Julian and Sandy( and polari), Rambling Syd Rumpo and more. Half a century on, it remains mind-blowing how they got away with such near-theknuckle broadcasting.

The Clive Beardsmore Gift: Interventions in the Garman Ryan Galleries( until January 24, Walsall; thenewartgallerywalsall. org. uk) brings together 200 pieces donated to the gallery from Clive Beardsmore, a private collector. The exhibition includes pieces by Edward Bawden, John Bratby and Keith Vaughan among others.