For several months now, all the world, or at least, all the world that can afford New York theatre tickets, has been eagerly looking forward to the Broadway debut of Harry Potter’s wand. We at the ol’ raincoaster blog have not failed to cover the blow-by-blow as Daniel Radcliffe and his Nethers of Strange Hirsutity have triumphed in London in Peter Schaffer‘s intense psychodrama Equus, but as the day approaches when all (and we do mean ALL) will be revealed to the notoriously insatiable, cellphone-camera-equipped American audiences, Radcliffe‘s handlers are getting nervous. They fear his peen may fall into the wrong, presumably sweaty, hands.
Says the star, on the possibility of his privates being made public via a quickie Flickr: “It will be amazing but I will be terrified!” And no doubt so will some of the more shrinking violets in the audience, from what we hear!
Just how amazing it will be, fans who cannot affort the high price to share his physical presence may never know. His handlers have taken every precaution to prevent leaks, going so far as to equip the theatre with infra-red defenses, like in that capoeria laser dance scene in Ocean’s Twelve, you know the one, to sniff out and, presumably, stun or even vaporize overzealous cellphotogs. Who knows?
His personal security has been increased as well, and let me tell you, these people do not mess around.
article hat-tip to dissfunktional