One of the funniest things about this play is that it more or less seems to yell, "Suck it, people who will inevitably have to stage this insane play!"

Because even on the page the Cursed Child seems more like a movie than a play. It's got incredibly short scenes, many of which require a complete change in location, and some outright bonkers effects to deal with the magic involved. It's the kind of play a normal person would write if they never expected anyone to try and produce it.

Beyond that, it's a fun read, because we're dipping back into the world of Harry Potter, and it even manages to avoid feeling like some sort of Muppet Babies/Tiny Toons deal by giving Harry's son different problems and a radically different life situation. But it still feels a bit like fan fiction.

It's existence as a play seems more calculated than natural. They hadn't made an original play for this franchise yet, and Rowling had an idea left over. Most of the writing suggests a book or movie outline jammed into a play format, a structure so ill-fitting they had to break the damn thing in half (which probably didn't hurt, since they could charge patrons twice, and they already had a built in audience).

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is a reasonably amusing read, but so much about it seems deeply crass.