Deathly Hallows: Part I is a two-and-a-half-hour film.
After about five minutes the booster seat was all I could think about, and the curtain hadn’t even gone up. To top it all, as it was the premiere, just about anyone involved in the making of the film gave a speech, from the three young stars to the directors, producers, writers, and the tea lady. After an hour of speeches we must have looked like the most fidgety family in cinema history as we writhed as one, trying to find a comfortable position. As we clapped the end of one inaudible fifteen-minute speech and another suit swaggered up to the microphone, I stared heavenward and implored: “Just please start the film!”
I’d like to challenge the cinema manager to sit on one of these contraptions for a couple of hours or so and see if he can walk straight afterward—and still remember anything about the movie.
As soon as the film was over we leapt to our feet, almost triggering a standing ovation, and were the first out of the cinema, stretching and rubbing life back into our behinds. “I’ll look forward to getting the DVD,” I said to Sam as we limped away, “so we can actually enjoy the film in comfort.”
If you happen to see me on the red carpet in Leicester Square in the future and I’m carrying four thick cushions, you’ll understand why.
Harrison and Annabelle both appear in Deathly Hallows: Part 2 as goblins in Gringott’s bank. In Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, Gringott’s bank was constructed in the cavernous interior of Australia House (home to the Australian Embassy, on the Strand in London) but for Deathly Hallows, the bank had been painstakingly re-created in the studio.
It’s the very exciting scene where Harry, Hermione, and Ron are trying to break into Bellatrix’s vault to retrieve the Sword of Griffindor. I’m in the scene but with Hermione under the invisibility cloak, so I didn’t need to be made up at the time of shooting.
The bank was filled with sixty goblins (all represented by Willow Management).5 Annabelle and Harrison’s job on that day was to push a little cart laden with gold bars. While I could still recognize Annabelle, Harrison looked truly extraordinary—I’d had no idea what the makeup department had planned and I was utterly, well, goblinsmacked.
“Harrison?! Is that you in there?” I asked incredulously. I watched as the creature before me slowly nodded (and nearly fell over). What had they done to my son? Harrison was wearing an enormous (for him) silicone head, along with massive gnarled goblin hands and some roughshod boots that were at least ten inches long and made him walk like a penguin.
He was so overloaded with silicone that he reminded me of being inside Marvin the Paranoid Android. Sure enough, after the fourth take I heard a muffled pleading of “I need a break” come from under the silicone head. We quickly extracted a sweaty Harrison from beneath the giant head. He sighed heavily and penguined his way up to a row of director’s chairs, where David Heyman, the producer, happened to be sitting.
“I’m not doing any more,” Harrison said emphatically, leaning on the footrest of a tall director’s chair. “I need something to eat.”
As I mentioned earlier, Harrison’s giant appetite has never been truly appeased since the day his mouth first got to grips with solid food.
Of course, he got his break and his food. All the kids on Harry Potter were extremely well looked after—Harrison and Annabelle’s names were even emblazoned in stars on a side of the trailer. I was lucky if I got an paper printout taped to the door.
After the Deathly Hallows: Part I premiere, we stopped in briefly at the afterparty, held in the Freemasons Hall, one of the finest art deco buildings in the UK; a miracle of marble, granite, and stunningly bright painted ceilings with Masonic symbols. I was still in too much pain to really appreciate it, but we made a beeline for the chocolate fountain, which helped restore our spirits.
As always we couldn’t stay too long, we had a long drive back to Peterborough and the kids needed to get to bed. So I had no time to waste when I caught sight of Tim Burton. I adore his animations. The Nightmare before Christmas is a firm family favorite and I harbored a desire to voice a character in one of his future animations. I tried to catch his eye (never easy if you’re my height) but was spotted by Helena Bonham-Carter (aka Bellatrix Lestrange), whom I now knew quite well, and she kindly introduced me to her husband. I wasted no time and quickly pitched the idea.
“Yes, it’s great, isn’t it?” he said.
I was momentarily nonplussed. Then I realized. The party was very loud, what with the music and the thousand actors, directors, and journalists all yelling at each other.
“No, what I meant was I’d love to be involved in one of your animations, as a voice-over artist.”
“Yes, it’s a terrific film. I’ve seen them all, you know.”
I was about to try once more, but suddenly Sam was at my elbow, a chocolate-encrusted Harrison and Annabelle at her side.
“Warwick, we have to go now.”
“But—oh kaggernash, all right then.”
As we drove home, Sam and I chatted about the good old days on filming Potter. I realized that Harry probably still has some life in him yet. In fact, I’ve got a funny feeling that he’s still going to play a big part in my life for some time to come. . . .
On a visit to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, Michael Gamdon (Dumblebore) gets his wand, and as you can see, he was even more excited about this than Annabelle and Harrison were. Remember children, wands are not toys. Just after I took this picture, I erupted in boils and grew a pair of wings.
Two of Hogwarts’ newest pupils being given the grand tour by Prefect Radcliffe.
Rupert Grint with his long lost Weasley brother, Harrison.
Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy) and I may have crossed wands on the big screen, but in real life we’re good Twitter buddies.
A day return to Hogwarts, my good man.
1Unless you’re reading the third edition, that is.
2The clips were private, just for viewing by the Harry Potter film family on that day, so I don’t think I should mention any of them apart from mine, sorry!
3I think millions would pay handsomely to see Daniel treading the boards in a fetching pair of green tights.
4I did suggest that I should open the premiere in full Flitwick regalia while playing the organ but I never heard back.
5J. K. Rowling has made a lot of little people very happy—and I’m not talking about children.
The final word goes to my aged Aunt Jan
A SMALL TRIBUTE
You accepted the hand that life dealt you
And stayed well ahead of the game
With tenacity, humor, and courage
And with your endeavors found fame.
Although being vertically challenged,
In the eyes of the world you walk tall
With a very remarkable talent,
There’s so much you’ve achieved being samll.
Metaphorically you have climbed mountains,
Though sometimes the going was hard,
By resolve, and your great perseverance,
You deservedly hold the trump card.
Aha! So I did take my head off after all! I found this photo just as the book was going to press (see page 74).
Acknowledgments
First off, I must acknowledge Sam Harrison at Aurum for his unique and passionate vision for Size Matters Not and for turning it into his obsession – as he recently said: “I’ve watched Labyrinth far more times than is healthy.”
Similarly, I’d like to express my gratitude to Kris Hollington for his editorial wizardry and to his photographer wife, Nina, for shooting me, metaphorically of course. Surely they are the Han Solo and Princess Leia of the publishing world.
My literary agent, Andrew Lownie, provided me with much effective Yoda-like counsel, delivered at light speed.
I’d also like to show my appreciation to all the young Jedis who used the Force to hunt through archives all across the galaxy, supplying me with photos that have
delighted, amazed, and embarrassed: Chris Holm and Tina Mills from Lucasfilm, Tracy Ames, Chela Johnson, and Lindsey Boccia from Lionsgate, Julie Heath from Warner Brothers, Margaret Adamic from Disney, and my Mum from Sussex.
Much gratitude to Melissa Smith at Aurum, David Welch of SS Graphics, and Rob Brown at Saxon Graphics for all their work in assembling and laying out the book’s dozens and dozens of pictures, not to mention Clare Stacey at Head Design for her work on the jacket. Many thanks also to Gilvanio Bragagnolo and WAES for providing the studios for the photo shoot – and for returning my light-saber after I left it there (though it did need a new set of batteries when I got it back).
Many other people have generously provided me with their time and input during the writing of this book, especially: George Lucas, Ron Howard, Ricky Gervais, Kenny Baker, Mark Hamill, David Heyman, Lynne Hale, David Baron, Vanessa Davies, David Iskra, Derek Maki, Daniel Balaam (even though he’s an idiot), Nicky Melina, Kristen Waidalowski, Oliver Moore, Lisa Blackman, and Deirdre and David Milner.
Thank you all for toiling long and hard to bring my little autobiography to fruition. You have passed the Hogwarts “Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests” with flying colors, and your certificates are in the mail.
A long time ago, in Borehamwood High Street . . .
Episode VI1/2 Return of The Ewok
In search of his destiny, twelve-year-old Warwick Davis goes to his local job center . . .
Pondering the destinies on offer . . .
Hmmm . . . Why not?
I’m certain I couldhave out-lifted him pound for pound.
Well, things could hardly get any worse for Chelsea . . .
The smell of Deep Heat leaves me dizzy.
Moments later I find myself sprawled in the back of the net with the ball.
This is more like it! Star Wars, my favorite film!
Mark Hamill, who (for the purposes of this promotional film) has been fighting Darth Vader inside my local cinema, pops out to say “hello.”
If I want a job in Star Wars then I need an agent.
Unfortunately, the only person I can find is Maxwell Mercury (aka Roy Kinnear).
“I can play small parts.”
Max: “How about Boba Fett”?
More like Baby Fett!
“I know,” says Max, ”you can play an Ewok”!
Ewok costumes only come in one size.
I set off to the film studios to find Endor.
“Keep the change cabbie!”
Me: “I’m looking for Endor, where the Ewoks live. Nice curtains, by the way.”
Harrison: “Let’s ask Mark.”
“You remind me of Chewie when he was a kid.”
“Ewok? What’s an Ewok?”
“Err . . . Hi, Carrie . . . We forgot what we came for.”
“Try stage eight. Maybe Endor’s there. May the Force be with you.”
“Can you show me the way to stage eight?”
“Ask Frank Oz – he’s got a hand in everything.”
“Crikey! Darth Vader!”
“I am fluent in over six million forms of communication . . .”
“And you’ll make a very nice lampstand,” says producer Robert Watts.
“Your Galactic Ticket to Endor I have.”
“Sorry, no Ewoks.”
I ditch the costume.
“Hmmm . . . Weren’t you in Time Bandits”?
“Are you an astronaut? Can I get a lift in your rocket to Endor?”
One short flight later and I catch up with the gang, only to find the forest swarming with Imperial Troops.
Harrison: “What’s that Ewok up to?”
I have a cunning plan . . .
“This should do the trick.”
“Take that Vader!”
Harrison: “Thanks kid, you did a great job.”
My parents arrive to take me home. For some reason they’re wearing their Sunday best – hardly ideal for the forests of Endor. “Nice suit Dad.”
Size Matters Not: The Extraordinary Life and Career of Warwick Davis Page 30