Percy Jackson, oh Percy Jackson! Why hast thou forsaken me? Or at least why the heck have you changed from a fairly decent children series to an unrecognizable film? I remember fondly the days of yore (er, a couple of months ago) when I powered through the Percy Jackson books. Enticed by a world seeping with the influence of ancient Greek gods and monsters, I followed you to the ends of the United States as you fought for what was good and true. But now, Percy, now I don’t think I know who you are anymore.
I mean, I thought we had kind of a good thing going. You were a little like Harry Potter, the book series I read last summer. You had special powers yet you still fought for me, the common person—someone not sired by a god or the like. I remember with fondness your first summer at Camp Half-Blood. While arguably not the most politically correct of camp names, I had a fun time reading about your exploits.
Remember when you didn’t know who your father was and you were put in the Hermes cabin—the cabin for the those who needed a place to stay? Well, apparently director Chris Columbus and writer Craig Titley didn’t. How about the time when you first met Annabeth, the intellectual daughter of Athena who would help you on your quests? Hmm—perhaps the filmmakers misread this part as well. Annabeth in the film seems to have a lot more in common with the daughter of Ares from the book (who doesn’t appear in the movie).
I know people change, and I guess we grew apart. I started seeing other films, but at least I was honest about it. But Percy, you somehow tried to hang with the “popular” crowd—Uma Thurman, Catherine Keener, Pierce Brosnan and the like. How were you ever able to convince them to tell your story? Did they expect this film to turn into the next Harry Potter? They surely must have been surprised by the result. I thought I knew you, but I was wrong.
Percy, I was actually hoping this would be a long-term thing. I mean, there were five books. I envisioned following you on your quest for several films to come. However, you seem to have shot yourself in the foot—omitting key characters and changing your plot majorly in these weird, unnecessary ways. I guess this is just my way of saying, I doubt there will be any sequels. Or if there are any sequels, I don’t think I want to watch them.
I think we should see other films. You know I won’t lie to you, so I won’t say, “It’s not you, it’s me,” because, Percy Jackson, I know it is definitely you. Perhaps writing this letter is not the most mature way to deal with our separation, but you are a fictional character and this is a blog.
Farewell Percy Jackson. I will always remember you at your best and the way you should be experienced– in book form.
Netflix queue: 480