[The film Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone faithfully adapts the novel! Director Chris Columbus distilled the lengthy narrative into an engaging, sometimes even thrilling, cinematic adventure!]
[This year's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone is an absolute must-see! Director Chris Columbus turned J.K. Rowling's brainstorms into a vivid, captivating screen experience!]
[No fan will leave the theater disappointed! Every element—from acting to sets, costumes, makeup, and effects—is perfectly executed, sometimes even surpassing expectations!]
[Even the most cynical moviegoers will be enchanted! HP on film is the perfect complement to the best-selling books! Everyone involved is giving their all to bring joy to audiences!]
[…]
On November 5th, the day after the premiere, media coverage exploded across the UK and beyond.
Domestic outlets such as The Guardian, The Times, and The Daily Telegraph lavished praise upon the film, practically painting it as flawless. Meanwhile, American media invited across the Atlantic—The Hollywood Reporter, The New York Times, Time—spared no effort in championing the film's release.
Of course, there were reasons behind these glowing reviews: British outlets rarely criticize their own projects, and American media received retainer fees from Warner Bros. The coverage flooding the public sphere was uniformly positive.
But…
Does that really matter?
Every entertainment project relies on marketing.
And if your work is strong enough to meet most expectations, all the marketing does is amplify awareness.
So, with Warner, the creative team, premiere attendees, and book fans all satisfied with The Philosopher's Stone, outside praise was just the natural consequence.
Yet, even as the creative team could quietly wait for the film's release following the premiere, a first victim of the movie's overwhelming attention emerged.
She was from the Haywood family—but not Isabella. It was Catherine.
"What did you say?"
"You're not going to school?"
"Why?"
November 5th, 2001, was a Monday.
Having stayed up late for the premiere the night before, Isabella slept in, free of obligations.
By eleven, as she got up to have a late breakfast, she noticed her older sister—supposed to be in school—was also sitting groggily at the table, waiting for their mother's service.
Isabella blinked, startled.
Before she could even voice her confusion—
"Cathy can't go to school today. Everyone in her class is talking about Harry Potter," Vivian explained from the kitchen. "The school called me this morning—their headmistress said this was their official stance."
St. Paul's Girls' School was one of the nine elite schools, and the students were well-mannered—but even so, they were human! Last year, Catherine's classmates had stirred up a minor rebellion when they learned Isabella had landed the role of Hermione. At the time, the movie release was far off, so it didn't cause chaos. But now? The film was about to premiere. Warner had spent over a hundred million on promotion. Everyone was talking about HP. If your sister is Hermione, could you possibly stay quiet about it?
No way. Even if pigs could fly, she wouldn't keep her mouth shut.
So…
As summer ended and the new school term began, Catherine became the focal point of curiosity at St. Paul's.
And it wasn't just her classmates—students across the school were eager for any HP-related news.
After Warner released the final trailer, even more people approached her, asking about the plot and behind-the-scenes stories.
Isabella had known about all this; Catherine had told her before. But at the time, Catherine had said it was manageable, so she didn't think much of it. Now? Catherine couldn't attend school.
"Honestly, it feels like St. Paul's is pushing you to drop out," Isabella said as she served a simple brunch of oats and fruit, glancing at her sister.
"Not wrong," Catherine replied with a smile. "Mom said the school advised me to wait until the HP hype dies down before returning."
"Essentially, that's a subtle push to quit."
Isabella fell silent.
It wasn't surprising—HP was set to become an eight-part series.
And the shooting schedule would be tight.
This meant a new HP release every year, with corresponding promotional campaigns.
If Catherine avoided school every time there was promotion, what school could she actually attend?
True, staying in school would create management challenges, but…
"So, what do you think?" Isabella asked, conflicted.
"Drop out, who cares? I'm fine either way," Catherine said casually.
She'd already considered leaving school last year.
Isabella turned to their mother. Vivian, always attentive, smiled and said:
"This time, I support Catherine. She really isn't suited to continue school right now. As for what she'll do afterward…"
"I hope she continues her studies. My plan is to bring her onto the film set. If Warner allows her to attend lessons there, we'll stay on set."
"That way I don't have to shuttle back and forth. And I trust Warner will permit it—it benefits the production. If not, we'll hire a private tutor and juggle both."
Vivian spoke casually, but in truth…
"…not bad," Isabella thought. Her mother's plan was probably the best under the circumstances.
Even if St. Paul's—one of the elite nine—couldn't withstand the media storm, transferring Catherine wouldn't solve anything. As long as Catherine was her sister, peace was impossible.
Isabella's frustration prompted Vivian to pat her on the head.
"Sweetheart, don't be upset. I know you want Catherine to continue at St. Paul's, but fame comes at a price."
"No one can enjoy glory while maintaining privacy. Catherine staying at St. Paul's for another year after Dad passed is already impressive—it's your doing. And honestly, letting her study on set is the best choice. No matter how brilliant she is, it's better to have a recommendation from Maggie Smith or David Heyman, right?"
Isabella paused, then laughed.
Anyone familiar with elite schools abroad would know—they thrive on networks and connections. Maggie Smith had Oxford lineage, and David Heyman attended Harvard.
Reality check: no matter how smart you are, a phone call can still trump grades.
"Okay, Mom. I know you're comforting me, and I still have to say… you're right."
She shook her head and looked at Catherine.
Her sister met her gaze, calm and confident.
Well, Catherine had embraced family life a long time ago.
Isabella admitted that she had once imagined what life would be like after fame—everywhere adorned, everyone warmly greeting her.
But she hadn't counted on HP's impact first hitting Catherine.
The movie hadn't even premiered, and Catherine was already being forced out of school?
Unbelievable. This was Britain's own Star Wars!
And just as Isabella grappled with the absurdity, before breakfast was even finished, Vivian's phone rang again.
It was Rupert, calling for Isabella.
"Oh Isa, how's your family?"
"I have to tell you—my brother and sister can't go to school!"
"My mom took them this morning, and within an hour, the school called to send them home. Everyone is asking about the premiere!"
"Everyone wants to know how the movie turned out! Everyone wants to know if it's good! And my brother and sister were telling everyone! Oh my god! The whole school, Mom said—everyone on the lawn, listening to their story! No one could stop them!"
Rupert's family faced similar chaos.
His siblings' social dominance left Isabella wide-eyed.
The whole school listening to them on the lawn? Those in the know understood it was HP content; others might think the neighbors had staged something.
After venting, he hung up.
Soon after, Bonnie called Isabella as well.
"Oh Isa, are you okay? My brother said he's nearly drowning in questions—he literally used Boom! Boom! Boom! to describe how overwhelmed he is."
"Wow… I never imagined Harry Potter could disrupt my family's life like this."
"This is… unbelievable."
Bonnie had problems too, even worse—her casting as Ginny was prompted by her brother.
As her family pushed her into HP, the release forced her to live up to their boasting.
They'd told everyone to expect greatness—now it had to be real.
Even hosting a premiere or reserving a theater for friends was mandatory.
After Isabella hung up, Daniel, Rupert, Bonnie, and the others also called.
She didn't consider herself a control freak.
But realizing everyone was in the same boat lifted her spirits slightly.
Because they were all suffering! If misfortune was shared, what was there to despair over?
It sounded shameless, but it was her honest feeling.
And as her mood improved, she realized the public's fascination wasn't necessarily bad.
The more people cared about HP, the more successful HP would become.
Theoretically, attention and box office returns are proportional—but she had been too optimistic. Humans are diverse creatures.
That afternoon, Isabella got a direct glimpse of public eagerness.
Her family's grocery deliveries—all clean, fresh produce—were handled by the same familiar staff daily.
The nutritionist and delivery driver, excitedly, pulled out Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone from behind them, asking Vivian for Isabella's signature because their kids loved HP.
Vivian hesitated—it felt inappropriate—but refusing would have been impolite.
So Isabella signed for them, ensuring safety.
That evening, the nightmare began.
Whether due to leaks or sightings of Isabella's signature, by six o'clock the phone started ringing nonstop.
Not just the regular cleaning staff checking on services; not just the gardeners asking about plants; not just old classmates or friends calling to visit; even their family doctor called—reminding them to dress warmly in London's unusual weather.
Exploding phone lines! Although none of these calls directly involved HP, the sheer volume of sudden attention became harassment. They realized they couldn't stay at home safely.
No one knew what would happen next.
That night, they hastily packed, shut off utilities, and fled to Liversden.
Survival now depended on capital.
After hearing this, Chris Columbus at the set…
"Clap!"
He smiled, clapping his hands, gesturing them in.
Isabella saw a pile of familiar faces in the dorm area.
"Damn—"
"When did you all get here???"
She froze. Daniel, Rupert, Bonnie, and others were all on set—with family in tow.
"Because we couldn't stay at home anymore," Daniel's mom said wryly. "They're just too enthusiastic… way too enthusiastic."
"Isa~ after calling you, our phones went crazy~"
Rupert leaned back, helpless. "Can you imagine? Even the FIA called my dad asking about the movie."
"They want to know when the movie will release in their country, whether we'll go on a promotional world tour, and if not—can they at least get an autographed photo? Because their kids all love Harry—PPPPPotter~~~"
For many people's memories, HP only became a global phenomenon after the film's release. But that's a misconception. In reality, even before the movie was greenlit—back in the year 2000—HP's worldwide sales had already surpassed 110 million copies.
At that point, Rowling had only released three books, each averaging over 30 million in sales.
By the time filming officially began last year, HP's global sales had risen to 130 million. Sure, Goblet of Fire contributed heavily to that number, but the sales of Philosopher's Stone itself had kept climbing steadily. In fact, as a single title, it had already broken into the world's top six bestsellers.
Sixth on the all-time global sales chart.
HP wasn't the "Star Wars" of the Western world. It was more like the Journey to the West of modern times.
Otherwise, how could a throwaway product like Hogwarts Legacy—a canned video game decades later—have sold over 30 million copies?
By the time HP's fans spread across the globe, maybe before the movie's release they could hold themselves back, since Warner hadn't poured massive resources into promotion yet. But now that the film was actually hitting theaters? Those eager fans were bound to cause a stir one way or another.
So what could Isabella and the others do?
Embrace change.
A cruel twist of irony—last year Isabella had told her sister to embrace change. Now, she herself had to face the same lesson.
Sigh!
Still, since everyone was experiencing the same fate, Isabella stopped grumbling and simply accepted her bad luck.
Settling into group life…
Well, after Philosopher's Stone wrapped filming, Chamber of Secrets had already begun preparations. The crew was formed, just not yet rolling cameras.
Chris Columbus, despite his clashes with J.K. Rowling, was a true workhorse when it came to filmmaking. He genuinely respected the source material too. Compared to him, David Yates was nothing short of a war criminal against cinema.
And once the core creative team, hounded by outside noise, retreated into Warner's protected studio grounds, the chaos outside no longer touched them. They could block every question with the excuse of "work."
But their retreat didn't dampen the fans' enthusiasm in the slightest. Since most people couldn't reach them anyway, they kept talking, speculating, and—going a little crazy.
"If we don't go crazy now, we'll get old!"
On the very next day after the premiere, every media outlet in Britain was buzzing about HP.
That was Warner's official update to those "hiding" on set.
By the third day, the film hadn't even released yet, but merchandise sales in cinemas across the UK had already risen by 17%.
That was units sold, not revenue.
And the increase was measured in millions. By the millions!
Absolutely insane.
On the fourth day, Coca-Cola—quiet for ages—rode the wave, launching bottles with HP designs.
It was just a reskin, but still, stock sold out in a single day and required immediate restocking.
By the 8th and 9th, every cinema in the UK was draped in HP banners.
Because on the 10th and 11th, Warner planned nationwide preview screenings across every British cinema.
This was a long-standing tradition in British entertainment.
Back in the day, whenever a high-investment, long-rehearsed play was about to debut, theaters would hold preview shows first.
The purpose was twofold:
First, to use previews to fix any flaws, adjust content, refine promotion. Second, to leverage hunger marketing—spreading word of mouth that the play was coming soon and everyone had to see it.
Like: "That play was fantastic! It officially opens next week—don't miss it!"
Simple as that.
In eras of limited communication, word-of-mouth was the best marketing strategy. After films appeared, the theater trick carried over to movies. By the TV age, it was technically outdated, but—people are nostalgic.
And such tactics were once reserved only for the likes of Vivien Leigh.
Film prints were expensive. If you couldn't guarantee ticket sales, you couldn't afford mass previews.
So then…
What movie in the world was more deserving of this treatment than HP?
On November 10th, Philosopher's Stone held previews across 491 cinemas on 1,137 screens in the UK.
From 10 a.m. to 10 p.m., in just 12 hours, it grossed £3.6 million.
The highest single-day preview box office in UK history!
Second place? The Phantom Menace in 1999.
The very next day, November 11th, the numbers dipped slightly—£3.1 million in 12 hours.
But across two days, the previews raked in £6.7 million.
Still the highest in UK history!
Second place? Toy Story 2 in 2000.
Sure, British box office records were a bit muddled, not as uniform as in the US.
But that didn't matter.
Because HP had just slain the old and vanquished the new. The whole of Britain exploded in excitement.
Since the dawn of cinema, Britain's theater culture had been in decline.
True, British literature piggybacked on film to reach global audiences—Shakespeare adaptations were countless—but in truth, the most influential stories shaping the entertainment industry came from America's fast-food storytelling.
Steven Spielberg's Jaws, Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park! George Lucas's Star Wars! James Cameron's Terminator, Titanic! Disney's animated films!
After Britain lost its empire, America took its entertainment crown.
When the West End's top-grossing play shifted from Hamlet to The Lion King, Britain's cultural pride was already gone.
But now?
It was all back—
"Harry Potter reclaims Britain's place at the peak of global pop culture!"
"The success of Philosopher's Stone is a historic victory for British arts!"
BBC headlines blazed with pride that night.
Yes, Philosopher's Stone was a co-production between Britain and America, with much of the crew hailing from the US.
But in this moment, neither side cared.
Industrial decline was a truth Britain itself admitted. No single book or film could change that. But as long as HP spread British culture with a fully British cast, then it was their victory in this cultural clash.
America, on the other hand, considered HP an American project anyway. All the profits funneled back to the US through box office returns and taxes.
So—Britain got the prestige, America got the money.
Both sides satisfied.
And so, the world's two loudest noise-makers began shouting in unison.
The Anglo-American duo practically screamed for everyone to know they had "won."
With such thunderous promotion blanketing the globe…
Even if you lived on Mars, you'd know HP had dethroned SW!
And HP beating SW???
"MFxxk! Is Harry Potter really that good?"
Adults were stunned.
"Mom! Dad! I want to see Harry Potter!"
Children voiced the purest call.
And so, amid wonder and disbelief, time rolled on to November 16, 2001.
The day HP officially released in both the UK and the US.
In just three days, the film grossed £9.6 million across the British Isles.
Adding in the preview screenings' £6.7 million, its opening week reached £16.3 million.
Roughly $23.3 million.
In North America, opening day alone brought $32.3 million across the US and Canada.
Day two rose even higher, to $33.5 million.
Day three added another $24.5 million.
Opening weekend: $90.3 million.
Together, the UK and US amassed $113 million in just three days.
Three. Days.