Considered one of the defining filmmakers of his generation, Stanley Kubrick left his signature imprint on the world of film with movies such as Dr. Strangelove, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The Shining. I’ve even written about some of what are (in my humble opinion) Kubrick’s best films, from Paths of Glory and Spartacus to Full Metal Jacket. But he’s a filmmaker who I very much have a love-hate relationship with. And the one film from him that might have just as much good qualities as bad ones is the 1972 dystopian crime film A Clockwork Orange (an adaptation of Anthony Burgess’s novel of the same name).
I’m surely not the only one who has problems with the movie. Many notable critics at the time, including Pauline Kael and Roger Ebert, lacked much enthusiasm for perceiving it as having a confused ideological message and teetering too close to the line of dehumanizing the victims while trying to evoke empathy from the audience for its psychotic protagonist. But as the years have gone by, the film has acquired a kind of cult status with some identifying it as prescient for times to come due to its exploration of dehumanization and corruption. Yet at the time, the movie received four Oscar nominations (including Best Picture). Clearly, enough people within the film community deemed it worthy of significant praise. But I have to ask…why isn’t A Clockwork Orange great? [NOTE: This blog will contain spoilers for “A Clockwork Orange.” You have been warned.] What’s It About The film takes place in a dystopian Britain, and mostly follows the devious misadventures of Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) and his young gang of “droogs” who get drunk, fight other gangs, and sadistically assault, rape, and torment innocent people. All for fun. Despite warnings from his probation officer, Alex gives into pressure from his fellow delinquents by invading a wealthy woman’s home and knocking her unconscious in order to steal from her. Alex tries to flee, but one of his “friends” beats him down so that he can take the fall for them. The wealthy woman dies, and Alex is sentenced to 14 years in prison for murder. After two years behind bars, Alex accepts an offer to become a test subject for an experimental aversion therapy called the “Ludovico technique” designed to rehabilitate criminals in two weeks’ time. The therapy involves Alex being strapped to a chair, his eyes being clamped open, and forcibly watching films with sex and violence while listening to the music of Beethoven (his favorite composer). The process induces nausea in Alex, and he begs for the treatment to end out of fear that hearing Beethoven will forever make him sick. The positive effects of the treatment on Alex are demonstrated before a group of government officials (via cowering before an attacker and falling ill seeing a topless woman). Despite some protest about Alex’ free will being stripped from him, the Minister of the Interior (Anthony Sharp) successfully defends the treatment by claiming it will cut crime rates which will alleviate the overcrowding issue many prisons in the country have been dealing with. Upon release, Alex returns home to see that all of his possessions have been sold and his parents (Sheila Raynor and Philip Stone) are renting his room out. As a free man, some of Alex’s old victims assault him to seek revenge and is only saved by his former “droogs” (now policemen) who drive him to the countryside, beat him, and nearly drown him before leaving him alone. Alex gets to a nearby home before losing consciousness, only to learn upon waking up that he is in the home of Frank Alexander (Patrick Magee), the man whom he and his friends assaulted and whose wife they raped. Frank now uses a wheelchair due to the injuries caused by Alex and his “droogs,” but does not recognize Alex’s true identity until he hears the young man’s rendition of “Singin’ in the Rain” that he sang while assaulting his wife. With help, Frank drugs Alex, locks him in a bedroom, and tortures him by playing Beethoven. Unable to stand the pain, Alex jumps out the window in an attempt to end his own life. While in the hospital recovering from his suicide attempt, several tests are administered on Alex who learns he no longer has physiological aversions to sex and violence. The Minister visits Alex, apologizing and offering to get him work in exchange for Alex supporting his election campaign and public relations efforts surrounding the “Ludovico technique.” The film ends with Alex in bed imagining himself doing violence and having sex before thinking to himself, “I was cured, all right!” What’s Good About It Despite my many reservations about and problems with A Clockwork Orange, I cannot deny the sheer amount of creative passion and artistic commitment that went into making it. Front and center, of course, is Malcolm McDowell (Caligula, The Artist, Bombshell) whose eerily full-throated embracing of bringing the sociopathic delinquent Alex DeLarge to life is incredibly haunting and unsettling. Regardless of my opinions about Kubrick’s handling of the character’s arc from start to finish, it is evident from the get-go that McDowell never holds back crafting an unforgivable and (mostly) unsympathetic character while also keeping the story of Alex’s downfall (if you can call it that) engaging right to the very end. Behind the camera, Kubrick remains the master of his domain by putting his signature distinctive touch on many aspects of the production design. It’s clear from an early shot—the pan out of Alex and his gang of “droogs” in the club during a monologue from McDowell—that Kubrick pays attention to every minute detail in every shot so as to craft a distinctive dystopia with all the trademarks and characteristics of such a world. Similar to George Orwell’s novel “1984” (and the film adaptation of it), this movie’s setting and environment feels unique and specific to it and, therefore, really unlike anything seen in most other films of this genre. Finally, I do appreciate how much this movie commits to its central plot motifs of uncensored, excessive, sensational instances of violence. Simply put, the story of A Clockwork Orange would not work if Kubrick held back in any way, shape, or form in displaying the utter depravities committed by Alex, his gang, and the government doctors engaging in state-sanctioned violence against Alex and delinquents such as himself. While I’ll get to the double-edged nature of violence being used in this way later, I just do not think that this story would stick with you long after watching it if Kubrick held back in this regard. All that being said, however, I don’t think these positive elements outweigh the severe drawbacks of A Clockwork Orange. What’s Holding It Back I’d always heard that Burgess’s original novel had incredibly uninviting dialogue that’s difficult to read. But I didn’t believe it until watching A Clockwork Orange which confirmed it. While I get there are sometimes story reasons for characters to be damn-near inaudible, but I simply don’t understand it here. This is beyond strong British accents; this is slang and lingo that prevents my comprehension of the interactions between the various characters. Call me pretentious, but I need to know what the people in the movie are saying in order to care about what they’re saying (let alone what they’re doing). 😊 But this could be forgiven if the movie was easier to stomach. Which gets to that double-edged issue I mentioned earlier: the violence—while necessary to the story—is also often beyond uncomfortable. And I consider myself someone who can tolerate excessive gore and violence in film, so I can only imagine how the general audience would react to it. But, of course, Kubrick almost certainly didn’t make this film for most moviegoers and thus cared very little about pleasing the masses. That being said, in order to justify the portrayal of violence there has to be some kind of thematic payoff for all the violence. Specifically, I should feel by the end that Alex’s arc resolves in a way that makes sense and feels worthy of the character. Instead, I was underwhelmed by seeing Alex lying in that hospital bed having not only survived his suicide attempt but seemingly happy with how his life has turned out (particularly since the Ludovico technique has apparently failed in the end). Thus, I felt the audience was robbed of what could’ve been as close to a “happy” ending the movie could have gotten with Alex’s horrible actions during the first half of the movie finally coming back to bring his life to a violent end. But we didn’t get that. Which gets to perhaps my strongest agreement with some of the critics who derided the movie as lacking a clear message about the nature of violence. By allowing Alex to essentially live happily ever after (or as close to such an ending as he could get in this world), Kubrick loses any moral clarity about what exactly he’s trying to say. Is Alex’s story a warning to wannabe sociopaths about the impact such actions have on people and how they can ultimately work to screw you over in the end? Because then Alex should’ve been successfully driven to suicide and the movie end with him jumping out the window. Or is Alex’s story a warning to regular people about giving the government too much authority over medical treatment of the mentally ill without sufficient oversight? If that’s the case, than why does Kubrick let the government essentially “win” by convincing Alex to help them with public relations to clean up the mess they left together. See what I mean? But maybe I’m wrong, and A Clockwork Orange is truly a cinematic masterpiece. I suppose you’ll have to convince me otherwise. 😊 What am I missing about the dystopian drama A Clockwork Orange? Do you think it’s a great movie or do you agree that something’s holding it back from greatness? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst
0 Comments
Image by Vinson Tan ( 楊 祖 武 ) from Pixabay When the Harry Potter series came to an end in 2011, the future was uncertain for this cinematic world of wizards and witches. But only two years later, Warner Brothers announced that the original author of the “Harry Potter” book series, J.K. Rowling, would make her screenwriting debut by adapting the 2001 fictional guide book “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” (which Rowling herself wrote) into the first film of a trilogy set in this newly-christened Wizarding World. Working with Rowling is David Yates, who returned to direct the project after doing so for the latter four Harry Potter flicks. Rowling’s story would follow Newt Scamander, a magizoologist who “wrote” the guide book about magical creatures. And nearly a decade after this announcement, the third film of the Fantastic Beasts premieres this weekend with supposedly two more movies on the way. Unlike the Harry Potter series which greatly defined my moviegoing childhood, these films have all come out in my twenties and thus I lack any nostalgic attachment to them (this will almost certainly become clear in my reviews of them 😊). What are my thoughts on the Fantastic Beasts movies? You’ll have to keep reading to find out. So, without further ado…LET’S GET STARTED! Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016) Upon seeing the first film of the Fantastic Beasts series in theaters, I found myself feeling satisfied and mildly entertained but by no means impressed or blown away. That being said, whenever I’ve gone back to watch it I end up liking it a little bit more. That being said, it is undoubtedly a flawed movie. What I surprisingly enjoyed the most on this rewatch of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was the series’ willingness to explore the society and culture of wizards and witches outside of Britain. Perhaps it’s my bias as an American, but Rowling and Yates fleshing out the noticeably more prejudiced and paranoid attitude of the magical community in a different place and time makes for some solid world-building after the Harry Potter series. In the film, we see how the MACUSA (Magical Congress of the United States of America) operates a more ruthless bureaucracy with regards to protecting the secrecy of their community from the “No-Maj” American society during the Jazz Age. It is this paranoid and close-minded political structure that serves as the central obstacle for our protagonist Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne), a British magizoologist traveling to New York City under suspicious circumstances. As the audience’s conduit into the wizarding world of 1920s America, Redmayne (in my humble opinion) pretty quickly draws the audience to him as an offbeat, socially awkward fish-out-of-water wizard with a passionate heart for magical creatures and a charming skepticism for human behavior and motivations. Furthermore, I appreciate Rowling differentiating the protagonist for this series from the titular hero of the Harry Potter series. Whereas Harry was a child consistently ignorant of the world of magic for much of his journey, Scamander is a full-fledged adult that’s also a fairly competent wizard able to outsmart others, escape sticky situations, and (mostly) hold his own in a fight. While I think I like Redmayne as Scamander more than many fans, what I cannot deny is who the best character of the Fantastic Beasts series is: the non-magical war veteran and aspiring baker Jacob Kowalski (Dan Fogler). Much of the entertainment value of the movie comes from seeing Kowalski’s shock at the capabilities of Newt and the other companions they meet along the way—ex-Auror Tina Goldstein (Katherine Waterston) and her mind-reading, free-spirited sister Queenie (Alison Sudol). Fogler’s career history in comedic roles works to great effect here, as his experience seeing magic done firsthand makes for some of the best levity in a movie that could otherwise be overly dour and dramatic. Before I get to my criticisms of this movie, I do want to shoutout something that most people either ignore or deride. In the wake of the sequel, I really appreciated Rowling and Yates favoring a subtle approach in foreshadowing the greater conflict of the series involving dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald (Johnny Depp) and his rise to power. Instead of overstuffing the scenes with excessive exposition, the filmmakers allow the relatively insignificant story of Scamander running around New York City to recatch his magical beasts to breathe on its own for the essential character work needed to make us invested in the main story in the first place. While I do overall enjoy Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, there are some important flaws to point out that make the movie too imperfect to hold a candle to any of the Harry Potter flicks. First and foremost, Rowling’s screenwriting talents seem to lack talent when it comes to balancing tone from one scene to another. In other words, it can be quite jarring for the viewing experience to go from watching Newt seduce a magical creature with a mating ritual to seeing orphan kid Credence Barebone (Ezra Miller) be abused by his adoptive mother and anti-witch fanatic Mary Lou (Samantha Morton). While not as detrimental to the movie overall, this problem will only get worse in the next installment of the series. Furthermore, I continue to be disappointed by the Grindelwald twist in the climax on each rewatch of the movie. Simply put, I think Colin Farrell’s more withdrawn and subdued performance as turncoat Auror Percival Graves (secretly Grindelwald) a welcome addition to the Wizarding World. And being reminded in the end that Graves is merely an illusion stings with each repeat viewing, but it hurt more than expected this time around. After Farrell’s superb turn in the supporting role of the Penguin in Matt Reeves’ The Batman, I just wish Warner Brothers had stuck with Farrell for the entire Fantastic Beasts series. These underwhelming elements make the main plot of the movie pale in comparison to just watching Newt, Kowalski, Tina and Queenie run around New York City chasing magical beasts. Unlike the compelling mysteries, dramas, and action-centric narratives of the Harry Potter series, this story of the “Obscurus” (which I still don’t really know exactly what that is) and Graves/Grindelwald’s desire for it (and thus Credence) remains an unsatisfying mystery to me. Put together, these weaknesses do not fully sour the inaugural entry of this prequel series but they do shine a light on the undeniable lack of quality in comparison to the Harry Potter movies. On its own terms, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is a decent enough movie for its entertainment value if nothing else. But it’s certainly not the strongest opening to a new series of Wizarding World movies. At the same time, it benefits from not being The Crimes of Grindelwald. ☹ Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald (2018) Ok, so the sequel to the first Fantastic Beasts is not utterly irredeemable to the extent I thought it was after first seeing it back in 2018. That being said, it’s still pretty bad. But I want to start with the positives before just completely trashing what makes this movie a failure on virtually every level. Maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but I find Eddie Redmayne to be consistently solid in his performance as Newt Scamander. Is he the ideal action hero or the most talented wizard ever? No, but that’s why (in my humble opinion) he’s a pretty compelling protagonist. Whereas the first movie highlights Newt’s unyielding protective instinct towards magical creatures in opposition to the ignorant, unsympathetic nature of most other wizards, The Crimes of Grindelwald aims to fill in his complicated relationships with friend and unrequited love Leta Lestrange (Zoë Kravitz) and Theseus Scamander (Callum Turner), Newt’s accomplished older brother and Leta’s fiancée. While not done perfectly, it was clear on a rewatch of the film that Newt was one of the few returning characters who received some semblance of adequate character development. Aside from just his story, I do think Redmayne is doing his damnedest to put some heart and passion into his character in even the subtlest ways. From some of his awkward facial expressions to fill up silence to the utter disrespect he shows his wand (like putting it in his mouth or holding it like a pencil), these little touches are the things I noticed and enjoyed whenever the overbearing, exposition-heavy plot of the movie isn’t putting me to sleep. Speaking of returning characters, I went into this rewatch of The Crimes of Grindelwald fearful of how I’d receive Johnny Depp now that he was full-fledged portraying the famous evil wizard Gellert Grindelwald. While his performance was neither disastrous nor transformative, I do appreciate how the movie fleshes out its titular villain’s motivations and grounds them in something believable. Essentially, Grindelwald defends his extremism towards the non-magical community and its magical sympathizers by expressing his desire to prevent another global conflict even worse than the First World War. Thinking back on the Harry Potter series, Voldemort never really had any stated motivations for his actions beyond enslaving the wizarding world under his control. In comparison, it’s refreshing for the villain to be more political in nature and work behind the scenes rather than always be on the front lines like a soldier. On a final positive note, it felt right for The Crimes of Grindelwald to return to Hogwarts if mostly for some character-focused flashback scenes. Not only was it nice to see a young Newt and Leta as friends being taught by a young Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law), but it seems fitting for a movie franchise that wouldn’t exist without the Harry Potter series to pay homage to the central setting (essentially a major character in its own right) of that series that so many fans of the Wizarding World adore and uphold. Unfortunately, I don’t have much more positive to say about The Crimes of Grindelwald. So, without further ado, let’s get into all the things that make this movie (mostly) irredeemable mediocrity. I said before that I thought Newt Scamander benefited the most in terms of character development. There’s a caveat to this, which is that director David Yates and screenwriter J.K. Rowling simply don’t devote enough time to the love triangle between Leta and the Scamander brothers to make the audience greatly invested in the drama of it. Instead, it ends up feeling like more of an afterthought due to Yates and Rowling preferring to focus on the Grindelwald plot. That being said, at least Newt gets some semblance of meaningful screentime. Tina Goldstein, on the other hand, lacks much attention at all for the first half of the movie and when she does join up with Newt and the others, she’s barely a presence in the group (even though one of the emotional cores of the movie’s narrative is her sister turning to the dark side! Like, what?!?). Which gets to the straight-up bad subplots of The Crimes of Grindelwald. I simply don’t know what Yates and Rowling were thinking in developing Queenie and Jacob’s “complex” romance other than recognizing the fact that Dan Fogler is undeniably the fan-favorite character of the Fantastic Beasts series. Thus, instead of letting his story arc in the first movie reside on its own terms they decide to reverse his memory loss from the climax of the first movie and have Queenie put him under a love spell so that she can marry him against his will. Not only is this an example of lazy screenwriting to bring a fan-favorite character back in a movie where he really doesn’t belong, but it also completely tramples on the minimal development Queenie had before. Whereas in the first Fantastic Beasts movie she was a kindhearted and empathetic witch, in this one she turns into a lust-crazed sociopath who somehow doesn’t see through Grindelwald’s violent nature (despite being a Legilimens, or having the ability to read minds!) and decides to join him out of her desire to marry Jacob AGAINST HIS WILL. I mean did Rowling just completely forget what happened in the movie right before this one and decided to simply create all-new characters with the same names as before?!? Speaking of the characters, I was really hoping to see more of Jude Law’s take on Dumbledore than what we received in The Crimes of Grindelwald. He was enjoyable in the handful of scenes we had with him, but I really do hope that the third film can make Law’s casting worthwhile because so far I haven’t seen nearly enough to be truly impressed. And what I have seen is more serviceable than amazing. Perhaps the bigger problem with this film, however, is the plot in general. Even if the characters made poor decisions and lacked sensible motivations, maybe I could’ve forgiven all of that if the overarching narrative was handled gracefully or expertly at all. Alas, it is not. Rowling’s lack of screenwriting experience is front and center here as the film’s three-act structure goes from dragging-your-heels boring to crazily rushed and stuffed full of needlessly complicated exposition that it leaves a bad taste in the audience’s mouths by the time the credits roll. The first act reintroduces us to the returning characters and brings a bunch of brand-new characters―from the French=Senegalese wizard Yusuf Kama (William Nadylam) to the cursed woman-turned-snake Nagini (Claudia Kim) ―who just don’t get enough screentime to make us care about them. On top of that, we get the interweaving family trees that relate to the mystery of Credence’s true name that culminates in one of the most baffling examples of “tell, don’t show” that I’ve seen in a big-budget movie like this in the past decade. Not only does the reveal about Leta and Yusuf’s connection (or lack thereof) to Credence nonsensical, but it’s also about characters that WE DON’T CARE ABOUT! There’s a lot to complain about when it comes to the movie, but I’ll end it here with the tone. Despite the first Fantastic Beasts movie having some jarring scene transitions, it was mostly never distracting enough to take you out of the story. But in this movie, Yates and his creative team cut back and forth between such tonally different scenes constantly that the audience can never truly give themselves over to the story. Maybe this is surprising to Yates and Rowling, but when you cut from the whimsy of Newt tending to his magical creatures to Grindelwald’s henchman murdering an infant, it makes it rather difficult for your viewers to fully latch on to the story that you’re telling. This issue with the lack of a consistent tone is even more apparent when considering how much Jacob takes a back seat in the movie. Other than his bickering with Queenie in the first act and their reunion in the third act, all he does is follow Newt from London to Paris without saying or doing much of note. With the major source of comic relief from the first film largely stripped of his comedic presence, The Crimes of Grindelwald is a distinctly rote movie in the Wizarding World without any genuinely distinctive identity to speak of. Instead, it feels more like a needlessly dark and dour movie lacking virtually any of the magic of the Harry Potter series or even its predecessor in this series. God, I hope The Secrets of Dumbledore is better than this. Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore (2022)
[NOTE: This blog contains spoilers for “The Secrets of Dumbledore.” You have been warned.] Walking into the movie theater on Friday night for my showing of The Secrets of Dumbledore, I was expecting to be disappointed. However, I also tried to remain open-minded and cautiously optimistic due to the early buzz around the film being an apparently vast improvement over The Crimes of Grindelwald. And by the time I left the theater, I ultimately felt deflated and exhausted with this series and wishing that it would just end. While I do agree that the movie is superior to its predecessor from four years ago, there are still some pretty glaring problems that have plagued the Fantastic Beasts franchise since its conception back in 2016. To begin with the positives, the intervention of Steve Kloves (The Fabulous Baker Boys, Wonder Boys), who wrote all but one of the eight Harry Potter films and produced the first two Fantastic Beasts films, proves beneficial here. Rather than Rowling struggle alone writing another political thriller set in the Wizarding World, Kloves’ guiding hand seemed to focus her storytelling instincts on streamlining this movie’s three-act structure so as to avoid the audience ever feeling lost or confused by the sequence of events of the movie. Surely, this is a low bar. But it doesn’t take away from the fact that such intervening tastes in screenwriting were desperately needed here after the atrocious example set by The Crimes of Grindelwald. In terms of the characters, some of the best scenes of The Secrets of Dumbledore were between the title character himself (once again played respectably by Jude Law) and Newt Scamander (with Redmayne’s third turn as the character). Seeing their friendship deepen and develop beyond Newt feeling like Dumbledore’s errand boy was refreshing, and Scamander’s empathy for Dumbledore (something he tends to show almost exclusively towards magical beasts) was particularly poignant during the scene in Hogsmeade when Dumbledore shares the story of his sister Ariana’s tragic death with his former student. Of course, the most noticeable different within the cast here is Mads Mikkelsen taking over the role of our villain, Gellert Grindelwald, from Johnny Depp. Not only does his performance feel more mature and restrained than Depp’s, but I am glad that Mikkelsen ended up being the actor to share several scenes with Law in this story. Essentially, it’s these three actors―Redmayne, Law, and Mikkelsen―that seem to be capable of carrying the emotional burden of Rowling’s (supposedly) five-film saga going forward. Unsurprisingly, my favorite character continues to be Jacob Kowalski thanks to Dan Fogler’s consistent talent for embracing and exemplifying the whimsy of the Wizarding World. Nearly all of his dialogue in the movie is genuinely funny, and easily the best writing overall. While his storyline lacks any emotional drama or substance to speak of here, I just appreciate seeing Fogler get work in a big-budget flick such as this where his lovable, charming personality can be seen by the world. At this point, maybe it sounds like I really enjoyed The Secrets of Dumbledore. But now I must address the several problems on display here that hold this movie back from the adequate entertainment value of the first Fantastic Beasts film (let alone the good to great storytelling of the Harry Potter series). So, let’s dissect what are (in my humble opinion) the biggest issues with the movie. First off, the first hour or so is SO. DAMN. BORING. Even after the lackluster scenes which bring Dumbledore’s team of spies together close out on the train, the missions that they go on lack urgency and feel as if they’re written simply to take up time before the finale. This points to a larger issue with the overall plot: why should the audience care about Grindelwald’s plotting behind the scenes of the wizarding world’s politics if we haven’t really seen the situation on the ground to explain why anyone supports him in the first place? To be invested in Grindelwald’s pursuit of power, the filmmakers have to prove that the forces he’s fighting are worth empathizing with and that his allies in his cause are worth rooting against. But, at the end of the day, I just feel indifference. Simply put, the film notably lacks any really “thrilling” components to justify its existence as something even close to a magical spy thriller. And a lot of my indifference is due to the fact that I care little about the fates of (most of) these characters (let alone the ones whose names I barely know, if at all). So when the movie finally ratchets up to its third-act showdown between Grindelwald and Dumbledore’s people, barely anything has pulled me in to the essence of the conflict in order to make it intriguing or thrilling. However, I could somewhat forgive these problems if The Secrets of Dumbledore was a standalone story. But it’s not: it’s the THIRD MOVIE of what is apparently going to a five-film saga. And because of the poor critical and audience reception of The Crimes of Grindelwald, this movie echoes some of the problems inherent in J.J. Abrams’ The Rise of Skywalker in that it tried to undo (or, at the very least, mitigate) the narrative issues of its predecessor while also telling its own cohesive story. But whereas the ninth movie of the “Skywalker Saga” is at least entertaining to watch and is largely cohesive within its broader trilogy, this movie simply ignores things established previously. For example, the first Fantastic Beasts movie takes place in 1926 and its sequel comes about a year later. Thus, the fact that this film takes place in 1932 means that it’s been approximately six years from the first movie to the third one. Yet when the American charms professor Eulalie “Lally” Hicks (Jessica Williams) finds Kowalski to recruit him she repeats his involvement with Newt and company as happening “a little over a year ago.” Right then and there, it was clear to me that Rowling lacks any genuine respect for her own source material. If she can’t even recall how much time has passed between movies, how am I supposed to take any story that she wants to tell seriously?!? Aside from just the issues of chronology in this franchise, I am now seriously questioning who the main character is supposed to be. Whereas in the first film our protagonist Newt Scamander in a “fish-out-of-water” scenario as a British wizard in New York City, both of the sequels injecting Dumbledore into the mix complicate my understanding of who our protagonist actually is. And that’s even more true in The Secrets of Dumbledore since Jude Law has a far more significant presence in the story than in the second movie. So, now has Newt been relegated to a deuteragonist with Dumbledore taking the helm or does Rowling just lack a fully-fleshed out plan for her Fantastic Beasts story? Probably the latter, but who can say for certain?!? 😊 All in all, The Secrets of Dumbledore is better than The Crimes of Grindelwald. But not much better, since its lows aren’t as bad but it lacks really any highs worth shouting to the rooftops about. Overall, what are my thoughts on the Fantastic Beasts movies? Hopefully not surprising this far in, but I continue to be underwhelmed and disappointed by these films. While their quality varies from one to the next, the series as a whole no longer justifies its own existence. Now, I just wish Warner Brothers will keep themselves from greenlighting a sequel and focus their resources on bringing back the main characters from the Harry Potter series to adapt the “Cursed Child” play into a one-off celebrating of the Wizarding World. With all that being said, here is my ranking of the first three Fantastic Beasts movies:
What are your thoughts on the Fantastic Beasts series? Would you prefer they just stop and make a “Cursed Child” movie like I do? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst Image by Okan Caliskan from Pixabay I vividly remember the first time I saw the 1957 legal drama 12 Angry Men. I was in college, and learned that I could rent movies on DVD from the campus library. So, having finished a paper due Monday early, I went to the library on Friday night and found this movie. I knew nothing except the premise which I learned from a parody episode of the movie on the show Family Guy. 😉
And ever since that first viewing, 12 Angry Men has left a significant impact on me. I find myself thinking about it every few months for a number of reasons. Needless to say, I am confident in saying that it’s not only my favorite courtroom drama but it’s also one of my top 100 films of all time. Why? I guess you’ll have to keep reading to find out… 😉 [NOTE: This blog contains spoilers for “12 Angry Men.” You have been warned.] The Good One of the first blogs I ever wrote highlighted the strengths of movies adapted from stage plays. Ironically, however, 12 Angry Men is not based on a play but a “teleplay” (a screenplay written for television) which aired on CBS on September 20, 1954. And yet the film adaptation of the teleplay largely plays to the strengths of a stage play (thanks to Lumet’s collaboration with cinematographer Boris Kaufman) by taking advantage of the inherently claustrophobic environment of the story. Specifically, the use of different lenses and positioning of the camera as the movie progresses allows the audience to visually perceive the increasingly tense and strained atmosphere of that juror’s room as we see the twelve men sweating profusely and becoming more and more anxious to come to a unanimous verdict so that they can leave and never have to see each other again. Thus, even though 12 Angry Men is not bringing a stage production to the big screen, it certainly feels like it is in the best possible ways. Speaking of the jurors, I think it would be incredibly easy for Lumet’s direction of the screenplay by Reginald Rose (the writer of the original teleplay) to allow most of the twelve jurors to blend together and fade into the background by not standing out from one another. Aside from Henry Fonda’s noble and heroic Juror #8, any one of the other eleven actors could have come across as set dressing or plot devices rather than distinguishable characters. But, much to my amazement upon first seeing 12 Angry Men, each of the jurors leave distinct imprints on the story and on each other. There are some key supporting characters that I’ll discuss in more detail later on, but you can watch the movie twelve times from any one of the individual gentlemen’s perspectives and see how they process the case under deliberation and evolve to their ultimate decision as a unique character arc. Considering the stars of this movie are twelve white men shot on black-and-white film with few distinguishing physical characteristics, I think it’s an impressive feat for the movie to still hold up today when it comes to the diverse personalities on display here. And this, of course, is in spite of an incredibly brief 96-minute runtime. Once again, such a brisk pace could have worked against Lumet and the actors. But it’s the opposite; the film’s brevity is refreshing but also never feels like it rushes the characters’ respective journeys. In fact, their arcs feel like they can breathe up against each other and, by the end, the audience can empathize with where each of them is at and why it took them the time that it did to ultimately acquit the defendant (John Savoca). The Great Aside from just the cinematography, 12 Angry Men makes excellent use of its environment in terms of where the characters are in relation to each other. This is, perhaps, an even more underappreciated aspect of how the “action” of the movie progresses than Lumet and Kaufman’s varying use of lenses from start to finish. Watching this movie is, in my humble opinion, such an excellent example of a film sucking the audience into its world and the events happening therein. Of course, the actors help with this but the way Lumet shoots such a small space and wholly relies on it to tell this story gives the viewer no choice but to place themselves into that situation and ask themselves: “What would I vote for?” “What would sway my decision?” For a film whose core themes are universal in nature and essential to contemplate for any well-minded citizen of the world, such a quality is indispensable in engaging your audience with the ideas on display through the use of space as well as the words and actions of the characters. Speaking of the characters, any one of the eleven supporting players could be the one that you connect with the most. For me, however, Jurors #3 and #9 are the ones I found the most compelling. Played by Lee J. Cobb and Joseph Sweeney, respectively, (the latter of whom is one of two actors from the original television production who reprised his role for the film) these two characters serve as thematic foils to each other. Whereas Sweeney’s character (whose name is revealed at the end to be McCurdle) is the first to agree with Fonda’s Juror #8 that the evidence against the defendant should be more thoroughly discussed, Cobb’s character ends up being the final holdout. It is these two jurors that, in more ways than one, establish the framework for the film’s exploration of justice. For it is McCurdle’s sympathies for Juror #8 and his willingness to stand alone in the hopes of discovering the truth about the defendant’s guilt or innocence that establishes the moral stakes of the rest of the movie. And the climactic catharsis of Cobb’s character’s outburst in the final moments where his prejudiced motivations are fully laid out as a reminder to the viewer that some elements of our criminal justice system will always be imperfect and slanted for or against the person in question. However, the important thing is not to let those imperfections win out over justice but root them out in the search for the truth. Simply put, without the endearing wisdom of Sweeney’s performance and the frustrating, one-sided anger of Cobb’s performance 12 Angry Men just doesn’t work as well as it does. The Groundbreaking Of course, one doesn’t watch 12 Angry Men and not come away admiring Henry Fonda’s electrifying performance as Juror #8 (whose real name is Davis). Without question, he is the star and for good reason. He’s the catalyst for the film’s plot (if you can all it that) by being the sole “not guilty” voter from the start in order to further question and interrogate the evidence (or lack thereof) against the defendant. I could certainly see someone watching this movie coming away with the impression that Fonda’s character is “too good,” as in unrealistically virtuous and mindful of the inherent prejudices of the criminal justice system. While I can see that perspective, I think it’s important to remember that Davis is less a character in his own right and more the moral conscience of all the other jurors (and, by extension, the audience themselves). For it is Davis’ upstanding idealism and powerful drive for the truth that inspires (either obviously or subtly) the eleven other jurors to self-reflect on their own prejudices at their own pace and, ultimately, side with his conclusion that there is simply not enough evidence against the defendant’s favor to convict him without “reasonable doubt.” Which gets to my favorite thing about 12 Angry Men. Beyond all of the great performances, writing, and direction, it is a movie that transcends its time and place (1950s America) by shining a spotlight on the extensive flaws of the criminal justice system due to its fallible, yet intrinsic, discriminatory lens against certain groups of people (brilliantly, the film is never upfront about the defendant’s race or ethnicity, although due to his impoverished background the viewer can interpret that the defendant is black or brown). This, of course, is another example of how the movie forces the audience to place themselves into the situation on display that I spoke of earlier. Not only the ideas themselves, but what the film has to say about these ideas makes it prescient of the times we have lived in ever since when it comes to the relationship between law enforcement, the courts, and the general public. Furthermore, its subtle commentary on racial bias in the criminal justice system preceded other landmark classics like The Defiant Ones and In the Heat of the Night (both starring Sidney Poitier) despite not featuring a single nonwhite character of any consequences. In my humble opinion, this shows that a movie can effectively explore universal ideas (i.e. justice, prejudice) through a specific historical context while leaving room for new filmmakers to add their two cents to such a discussion. Conclusion Needless to say, I love 12 Angry Men. Its acting, directing, cinematography, and themes all come together to form a truly classic piece of cinema that remains relevant sixty-five years after its initial release in theaters. And, of course, it has had an enduring legacy both in cinema history and on American culture in general (even going so far as to inspiring Supreme Court justice Sonia Sotomayor to pursue a law career). So, if you haven’t given it a chance yet, please do. I trust that you will not regret your hour-and-a-half spent watching this masterpiece. What are your thoughts on Sidney Lumet’s 12 Angry Men? What other courtroom dramas would you recommend? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst Image by Manuel Schäfer from Pixabay In recent history, kids growing up have had different movie franchises serve as tentpoles for their coming of age. My dad’s generation, for example, saw the original Star Wars trilogy in theaters. Younger generations these days have watched the plethora of superhero flicks (notably the Marvel Cinematic Universe) from childhood to adolescence and young adulthood. But it’s rare that a select generational subset can point to a movie franchise that grew up with them.
For people around my age, that franchise is none other than the Harry Potter series. While I don’t consider myself a rabid fan like so many out there, I remember reading J.K. Rowling’s “Harry Potter” books pretty quickly from one to the next. Furthermore, I have distinct memories of seeing several of the Harry Potter movies in theaters with friends and family. And I was thoroughly overjoyed visiting the Wizarding World theme part at Universal Studios while on a high school band trip. It's been more than a decade since the epic story of Harry Potter’s hero’s journey and Voldemort’s rise to power concluded, yet the series continues to have an impact on popular culture. Whether it’s the highly-popular “Cursed Child” stage play or the financially successful Fantastic Beasts series of films continuing with a third entry in a couple of weeks (with two more supposedly on the way ☹), I don’t think peoples’ love for Harry Potter has completely waned. And perhaps it never will. What better time to rewatch and look back at the fourth-highest-grossing film series of all time? So, without further ado…LET’S GET STARTED! Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (2001) For a summary of the production and release of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, click here. Whenever I decide to go through the entire Harry Potter series again, I am perhaps most excited to see the first film more than any of the sequels. While there may be several reasons for this, I think the primary explanation for it is because Sorcerer’s Stone (faults and all) remains one of the best beginnings to any cinematic saga. Despite being over twenty years since its debut in 2001, it generally holds up due to its incredible strengths outweighing its notable weaknesses. What I think is the main factor in Sorcerer’s Stone retaining a timeless quality over these past couple of decades is how gracefully it introduces the audience to a fantastical world of magic through the youthful and endearing eyes of its eponymous protagonist Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe). By making Harry’s foundations in life up to age eleven rooted in the “muggle” world, Rowling and Chris Columbus (Adventures in Babysitting, Home Alone)—the filmmaker that brought the first two entries in the series to the big screen—seamlessly and effortlessly make him an incredibly empathetic character. And then you throw in his tragic orphan backstory and cruel, abusive treatment at the hands of his obese uncle Vernon (Richard Griffiths), sharp-tongued aunt Petunia (Fiona Shaw), and spoiled brat cousin Dudley (Harry Melling). Put together, this introduction to Harry makes for such a skilled and sensitive onset for bringing the audience out of our reality and into the world of Hogwarts and the magical society surrounding it. But following Harry alone would only make Sorcerer’s Stone a good movie. No coming-of-age story can ascend to greatness without having key supporting contemporaries to bounce off the main character. In this respect, Columbus and the team behind the movie gave us one of the most memorable trios in modern cinematic history with Harry and his two best friends: the fiercely loyal but cocky redhead Ronald Weasley (Rupert Grint), and the intelligent, charming young woman Hermione Granger (Emma Watson). These three characters’ distinct personalities, strengths, flaws, and worldviews balance each other out to the point that their relative lack of acting experience highly evident in this first film is made largely moot thanks to the chemistry amongst them. If it was only the child actors, however, Sorcerer’s Stone probably would not be as good as it is. Thus, several of the accomplished adult actors superbly elevate Radcliffe, Grint, Watson, and the other kids’ performances whenever sharing the screen with them. On this rewatch, I particularly enjoyed the moments with professors Albus Dumbledore (Richard Harris) and Minerva McGonagall (Maggie Smith) accosting and mentoring our three heroes. But I always appreciate and admire Robbie Coltrane as Hogwarts’ gentle, half-giant gamekeeper being Harry’s bridge into the world of magic (especially poignant considering he’s the one who safely brought Harry from Godric’s Hallow to Little Whinging on the night of his parents’ deaths). And, of course, Alan Rickman shines throughout the series as the mysterious and morally ambiguous potions instructor Severus Snape. In addition to the people in front of the camera, Columbus and the creative team behind the camera obviously left everything on the table when it comes to building out the wizarding world. From the costumes, sets and props to weaving in so much world building (like Quidditch and the Stone itself) into the narrative without overwhelming the audience, Sorcerer’s Stone does a pretty solid job of working both as a movie in its own right as well as the inception of a multi-movie franchise. Do certain story moments feel weighed down too much by exposition? Definitely. Is the villain reveal involving Professor Quirrell (Ian Hart) pale in comparison to most of the sequels? For sure. All that being said, Sorcerer’s Stone never disappoints in making me fall in love with the world of Harry Potter every time I watch it. I grin seeing Harry and Hagrid walk into Diagon Alley together, and I’m hooked when Harry falls off his broom when swallowing the Golden Snitch during his first game of Quidditch. But, at the end of the day, it’s the character dynamics (particularly among the central trio) that make this movie both a tentpole of my childhood nostalgia as well as a genuinely great fantasy flick. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002) When it comes to examining the early years of the Harry Potter series, I think that Chamber of Secrets unfairly gets a bad rap when compared to its predecessor. So, I want to look back on this movie by highlighting what (in my humble opinion) it actually does better than Sorcerer’s Stone while also acknowledging what ultimately makes it a less enjoyable film. On rewatch, I was reminded of how much more compelling the central mystery in Chamber of Secrets is than everything going on with Snape, Quirrell and Dumbledore in Sorcerer’s Stone. Even watching these movies as a kid, it was pretty obvious to me that Snape wasn’t evil and that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were way out of their league in trying to snatch the Stone for themselves. Conversely, the way in which Rowling’s narrative and Columbus’s direction unravels the true nature of the Chamber of Secrets feels like a more mature approach to this kind of storytelling. On that note, the film’s narrative delving more deeply into the history of Hogwarts and the broader implications regarding the magical community (i.e. Salazar Slytherin’s hatred of “mudbloods” foreshadowing Voldemort’s war against muggle-borns) kept up the stakes of world building that Sorcerer’s Stone established so expertly. In contrast to the somewhat underwhelming reveal of Quirrell’s dual identity in the previous film, the use of Tom Riddle’s (Christian Coulson) tainted diary as both the tool manipulating Ginny Weasley (Bonnie Wright) to petrify the muggle-born students of Hogwarts and the window into parts of Voldemort’s past felt more authentic in a world filled with magical artifacts. In this respect, I think this is the most inventive use of Voldemort as the villain without actually seeing his contemporary form in the flesh from the fourth movie onwards. Furthermore, Chamber of Secrets shines as an example of how much CGI and special effects can improve only a year off the heels of the movie that came before it. Notably, the Quidditch match involving Harry and his blonde-haired rival Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton) looks and moves far better than the game featured in Sorcerer’s Stone. Also, Harry’s confrontation with the Basilisk in the Chamber itself held up surprisingly well and was—dare I say it—a more tense and compelling climax than Harry facing off with Quirrell in the first movie. And, without question, the best addition to the cast was Jason Isaacs as Draco’s malevolent, scheming father (and secret Death Eater) Lucius Malfoy. Not only was his role in the plot incredibly satisfying, but his scenes with Harry that bookend the movie remain some of my personal favorite character-focused scenes involving a hero and villain. Sounds like I really enjoy Chamber of Secrets, doesn’t it? To be clear, I do. In fact, I like all of the Harry Potter movies to varying degrees. And, for the most part, the differences in quality from one movie to another are largely miniscule enough so as to be negligible. Still, I do want to justify my ranking at the end of this blog with some reasons why (in my humble opinion) Sorcerer’s Stone is ultimately the stronger of the first two films in the series. The biggest thing working against Chamber of Secrets as a whole is the bloated runtime. At two hours and 41 minutes, it just feels overly long for no good reason. Upon rewatching it, there are undeniably multiple scenes that could’ve been shortened up (if not cut entirely) like some of the stuff with Gilderoy Lockhart (Kenneth Branagh) or Moaning Myrtle (Shirley Henderson). But I could forgive this if not for the utterly disappointing lack of Hermione for most of the film’s second half. I get why Hermione being petrified is needed to raise the stakes going into the third act, but I just think watching only Harry and Ron work together without Emma Watson’s presence highlights just how much all three of them need to be intimately involved in the story to keep the narrative strong and enticing versus just mildly interesting. While I said earlier that I appreciated the unique take on Voldemort’s role as the villain in Chamber of Secrets, I do admit that making Voldemort the villain once again feels repetitive and somewhat unnecessary. Especially considering his increased presence in future installments of the series, we probably didn’t need a teenage Voldemort working behind the scenes this much at this point in the overarching narrative. Finally, while I appreciate the distinct look and feel of these first two films, I do think that Columbus’s storytelling sensibilities are not as adept at balancing a darker and more mature tone with the silliness and corniness inherent to several scenes and moments in Chamber of Secrets. All in all, Sorcerer’s Stone benefits from its many strengths overcoming its flaws. Unfortunately, the reverse is true when it comes to Chamber of Secrets. While it’s certainly not a bad second movie in the series, it does not hold up as well as its predecessor and doesn’t hold a candle to many of the sequels to come. But again, I like all of these movies…I just happen to like Sorcerer’s Stone more than Chamber of Secrets. 😊 Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004) When fans of Harry Potter reflect on when the series really started embracing its young adult audience and shifting away from an older kid audience, they often bring up Prisoner of Azkaban. Chris Columbus will forever deserve credit for jumpstarting the franchise, but Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men, Gravity, Roma) took over directing duties and very clearly intended to age up the series to match our wizarding trio becoming full-blown adolescents and the increasingly dark, sinister tone of Rowling’s source material. In doing so, he made one of my personal favorite films in the franchise as well as one of the best. In my humble opinion, the main source of my great admiration of Prisoner of Azkaban is how it crafts a compelling mystery and scary narrative without ever involving Voldemort intimately in the plot. Instead, it is the specter of Sirius Black (Gary Oldman), who supposedly played a key role in Voldemort’s murder of Harry’s parents, and the increasing dangers posed by Sirius tracking Harry down to finish what Voldemort started. With this threat looming over Hogwarts during his third year, Harry finally receives some guidance and care from an actually competent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Remus Lupin (David Thewlis). Not only do we see a genuine friendship bloom between this mentor and his student, but it adds tension and thematic nuance to the critical second-act reveal at the Shrieking Shack about the true nature of Black’s past connection to Harry and his parents’ deaths. Before I get to that, however, I want to briefly shine a spotlight on some of my favorite elements of world building in the Harry Potter franchise: the Dementors. Before Sirius Black supposedly becomes a genuine threat to Harry by infiltrating Hogwarts, he must face down his fear of these soulless, floating, demon-like creatures cloaked in black whose sole purpose for existence is to steal peoples’ happy memories from them. Without question, the Dementors not only effectively push Prisoner of Azkaban towards the line of being straight-up horror but also have gone down as one of the most terrifying magical creatures of Rowling’s universe. On a lighter note, I always enjoy the introduction of Buckbeak the hippogriff. On the one hand, the CGI involved in creating this elegant and proud creature holds up to this day (especially when compared to some of the more questionable special effects in later entries of the series). Also, the bond he establishes with Harry leading up to pretty important moments in the movie’s overall plot is another great reminder of how (mostly) tight this story and Cuarón’s cinematic adaptation of it truly is. Of course, the first half of Prisoner of Azkaban is very good. But once the truth about Sirius Black is revealed, it becomes truly great. Cuarón pulls off such incredibly staging in the Shrieking Shack scene to ramp up the tension between Harry, Sirius, Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew (Timothy Spall)—the actual betrayer of the Potters still devoted to Lord Voldemort—to keep the audience questioning the legitimacy of what Lupin and Sirius are saying until Pettigrew himself admits it upon returning to human form. From here on out, Prisoner of Azkaban continues to amp up the stakes by flipping everything we thought we knew on its head. Whereas before the narrative was about Harry avoiding being found by Sirius, now it becomes about saving him from wrongful execution. Thanks to the time-travel plot thread involving Hermione and Harry using a Time Turner to spare more than one life, the audience is able to experience the second act of the film with that new emotional context. All of this great moviemaking comes together during the climactic face-off between Harry and the Dementors who are trying to kill Sirius and Harry’s past self. His training with Lupin both in the Patronus Charm and in overcoming his fears builds to this moment when Hermione convinces him that his dead father will not suddenly show up and save everyone. Instead, Harry has an epiphany: he is a powerful wizard, and he must be the one to save his godfather and himself. Just thinking about this scene gives me chills, and (in my humble opinion) is the culminating of Harry’s first fantastic character arc in one of these movies. Before, he succeeded in defeating Quirrell and Tom Riddle’s memory based largely on luck and lots of outside help. But here, he’s able to channel what he’s learned from three years in the wizarding world and show everyone (most importantly himself) what he is capable of. To be fair, there is some clunkiness in the editing of these time-travel scenes that upon a rewatch I wish Cuarón and his creative team could’ve cleaned up. Furthermore, I do wish we had a little more Dumbledore (now being played by Michael Gambon) to make his reinterpretation in the series more acceptable at face value. But these are minor criticisms at the end of the day; Prisoner of Azkaban will always be one of my favorite Harry Potter movies, and I’d be surprised if most fans of the franchise didn’t agree. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005) Part of me wishes that Alfonso Cuarón stuck around to direct the follow-up to Prisoner of Azkaban. But I’m grateful that he gave us one film in the series, and I’m just as grateful that Mike Newell (Four Weddings and a Funeral, Donnie Brasco) managed to craft a sequel that, in more ways than one, supersedes its predecessor as one of my other favorite films in the franchise. Maybe that’s controversial to say, but on this rewatch Goblet of Fire just hit me a little harder than it has before. Let me explain why. Similar to the challenges that Cuarón faced in maturing the characters and world of Harry Potter while also managing a complex narrative with plot twists and time travel, Newell looked down no less daunting obstacles in adapting Goblet of Fire for the big screen. First off, you have the challenge of weaving the subplot of Voldemort’s resurrection in the flesh into the main story involving the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts without the former distracting from the latter nor the latter overshadowing the former. Somehow, Newell’s direction in tandem with the cast and crew somehow pulls this off. He effectively balances the lighter comedic tone of the teen-centric scenes surrounding the Yule Ball, the action-heavy drama of the Triwizard challenges, and the horrifying climax involving Harry facing down Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) thirteen years after their first encounter. Never at any point watching Goblet of Fire did I feel that a scene was out of place given what came before or after it. In fact, I found the teen drama and romance refreshing given all of the high-stakes doom-and-gloom happening around it. (I will say that Ron and Harry’s brief falling out felt entirely unnecessary, but obviously that’s more the fault of Rowling’s book than the filmmakers) Another surprising strength of Goblet of Fire is how it surpasses the mysteries in the first two films of the series (and remains on par with the twist in Prisoner of Azkaban) while involving Voldemort directly in the narrative. Of course, he gets help from Barty Crouch, Jr. (David Tennant) disguising himself as ex-Auror and eccentric professor Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody (Brendan Gleeson). Both actors pull off effective performances, particularly Gleeson who manages to convince the audience of his genuine care for Harry while always keeping the viewers at a distance before fulfilling the terrifying and heartbreaking reveal of his true identity. Certainly, the most entertaining highlight of Goblet of Fire in terms of the plot is the events of the Triwizard Tournament themselves. While some elements of Harry fleeing the Hungarian Horntail on his Firebolt feel dated and anticlimactic or the champions surviving the maze somewhat confusion, you cannot deny when watching this movie that magic has never felt more like a modern action movie than in these scenes. Of course, this plot alone doesn’t work without the underlying mystery of why Harry was forced into this competition and the extent to which Voldemort is working behind the scenes leading up to getting him into the graveyard for his grand entrance in the third act. Thus, it all came down to this fantastic scene. Once Harry and fellow Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory (Robert Pattinson) agree to take the Triwizard Cup together, they are transported to Voldemort’s location where Cedric is unceremoniously murdered by Peter Pettigrew and—with some of Harry’s blood—Voldemort is finally brought back from the brink of death. From this point on, the series changes forever as the audience is finally confronted by the “big bad” of Harry’s story. AND IT’S AWESOME! 😊 Seeing fourteen-year-old Harry Potter duel the most powerful dark wizard ever and, ultimately, not succumb to his fears by standing up for himself is arguably his most heroic moment as the hero of this story. Furthermore, Ralph Fiennes absolutely KILLS it in this scene (a sliver of what we see over the course of the next four movies). But the emotional gut-punch of a cherry on top is Harry speaking to his parents—or at least their spirits—for the first time ever. I’m not a particularly emotional person, but I always choke up during this sequence out of sheer sympathy for Harry as a tragic character who has rarely succumbed to self-pity or other unlikeable characteristics due to what Voldemort did to him. To tie up loose ends, Harry manages to escape Voldemort’s bloodlust by the skin of his teeth but returns to Hogwarts (with Cedric’s body) the winner of the Triwizard Tournament. But he is bruised, bloodied and broken, and isn’t afraid to show everyone just how dire the situation has become for the wizarding world. And while I understand some peoples’ criticisms about Cedric’s death feeling a little shallow since we only knew him for one movie, I found on this rewatch that his death hit me harder than really any time before. Personally, I think it’s because I realized that Cedric is dying is less about this one kid getting killed and more about the metaphorical and thematic significance of his death. Essentially, Cedric dying at Voldemort’s hands (and, in turn, Harry watching it happen but helpless to stop it) represents the end of innocence for these characters. Even with some pretty dark shit happening during their first three years at Hogwarts, they all know that from here on out them dying at the hands of a Death Eater—or Voldemort himself—is not just a possibility but something of a likelihood. And recognizing that this time around, while also seeing our characters come to that conclusion, was really quite heartbreaking. (Shoutout to Robert Pattinson for maximizing his screen time to make us care about Cedric enough for his death to mean as much as it did) Simply put, I loved Goblet of Fire more than I think I ever have before. Is it as tight of a story as Prisoner of Azkaban? Maybe not. Is it bursting with as much charm and nostalgia as Sorcerer’s Stone? Certainly not. But I think it’s a fantastic halfway point for this movie series that aptly ties a knot on Harry, Ron and Hermione’s early years while foreshadowing dark times ahead of them with the threat of Voldemort looming on the horizon. With a new director taking over from here, where does the franchise go? Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007) After three different directors kept the first four Harry Potter films fresh and distinct but also aesthetically and narratively cohesive, David Yates took the helm and went on to direct the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth entries in the franchise (as well as all three Fantastic Beasts movies made to date). There are both positive and negative aspects of this change in leadership behind the camera, but all in all I think Order of the Phoenix is one of his stronger entries in the series. What ends up being one of this movie’s greatest strengths, in my humble opinion, is the intense and intimate focus on the effects of the psychological trauma that Harry has accumulated in his short yet eventful life. From reminding the audience of the horrifying nature of Dementors in the opening scene to exploring his mental, magical connection to Voldemort as representing his struggle with the darkness within him, Harry goes through the wringer in Order of the Phoenix just as much (if not more) than previous movies. Furthermore, I appreciate how Yates tackles the explanation of Harry and Voldemort’s minds being tied to one another towards the end of the film without giving too much away for the future of the series. Unfortunately, one of the trade-offs of the near-complete focus on Harry’s story in Order of the Phoenix is the disappointing lack of meaningful screen time or character arcs for Ron and Hermione. They certainly get their moments (I’ve always appreciated the three of them sitting by the fire laughing at each other), and I get that the story of this movie is more about building out the team of warrior wizards and witches like Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis) and Luna Lovegood (Evanna Lynch). But I just wish we could’ve seen a bit more of development for Ron and Hermione given how much Goblet of Fire was focused on Harry coming into his own as a formidable wizard. The focal point of the plot, however, is where we get the standout performance of the film as well as the one and only villain performance in the entire series that threatens Ralph Fiennes’ top spot as Voldemort: the government employee who takes over Hogwarts—while donned entirely in pink—Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton). From her very first scene during Harry’s trial at the Ministry of Magic, Umbridge makes her mark on the franchise as an impeccably immoral and devious antagonist that you just love to hate but hate to watch. And Staunton absolutely nails the character as the epitome of a corrupt bureaucracy bent on denying the truth about Voldemort’s return while being far more concerned with Dumbledore’s non-existent rebellious plotting against Cornelius Fudge (Robert Hardy). Similar to how the increased violence and drama of the past couple movies reflect the series’ growing maturity and darker tone, the political themes dominating Order of the Phoenix exhibit how this series is becoming more for teenagers and young adults and less for children. With Umbridge’s presence and the diminishing power of Dumbledore and McGonagall, Harry and his friends experience the plight of sociopolitical oppression, state-sponsored fear-mongering, and propaganda through the education system firsthand. Given its place in the series, I appreciate this movie taking the time to ask the question: “What if the wizarding community acted like so many actual human beings do in the face of overwhelming danger and just flat out deny it?” Does it make for the most gripping fantasy cinema and entertainment? Kind of. Despite lacking much of the action that filled out Goblet of Fire, there’s enough to keep the narrative moving and the most impactful action in the climax makes up for the lack thereof earlier in the film. Which gets to the film’s pretty great finale. I’ve always enjoyed how clear Yates shows just how out of their depth Harry and his friends are once they’ve arrived at the Ministry of Magic. While they hold their own against Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort’s other lieutenant Bellatrix Lestrange (Helena Bonham Carter), they get outgunned and outsmarted just before Sirius, Lupin, and the other members of the Order come to save the day. It’s at this point, after nearly five Harry Potter movies, that the cinematography and staging of magical action sequences results in seeing wizards and witches throw offensive spells at each other in a way that feels organic and exciting to watch. And it’s in this scene where two of the best moments in the entire Harry Potter series happen. First, another heartbreaking death scene where Bellatrix kills Siris right in front of Harry. This might be Radcliffe’s first genuinely great moment of acting in the franchise; despite not hearing his scream, seeing his entire world collapse around him as Lupin holds him back is always so affecting and heartbreaking to watch. Just knowing the last of what Harry can call his family is gone forever tastefully adds to the tragedy of his hero’s journey. But then, out of anger, Harry seeks revenge on Bellatrix and is caught in Voldemort’s trap. Do we get another duel between Harry and Voldemort? Nope. Instead, we see what (in my humble opinion) will be the uncontested greatest duel in the history of the franchise: Dumbledore and Voldemort. There is so much creativity and ingenuity in the spells these two cast against each other and what they do to defend themselves from the other’s attacks. Furthermore, Gambon and Fiennes convey so much backstory with so little dialogue which helps justify the logic behind Voldemort’s plan to take Dumbledore off the board in the next film. Hopefully I’ve given you the impression that I like Order of the Phoenix. Is it as well structured or paced as Goblet of Fire or as complete of a story as Prisoner of Azkaban? For sure, but these flaws are ultimately overshadowed by this movie’s very high highs that make it a solid entry in the franchise despite not being my absolute favorite. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009) So, is Yates able to follow up the solidly entertaining Order of the Phoenix with an equally pretty good sequel Half-Blood Prince? Despite some interesting elements at work here, I think not. As a reminder, I don’t hate any of the Harry Potter movies. Nor do I think any of the eight films in the series are bad. But, if I’m honest with myself, Half-Blood Prince ends up being the most flawed of all the movies on its own. Ultimately, much of these flaws stem from the fact that the movie feels more like an essential yet difficult piece of the puzzle rather than a well-integrated part of a painting. Instead of fitting elegantly into the overarching narrative of the series by upholding what came before, it acts like more of a stop gap for the audience by forcing too much exposition in too little time to soak in and process in an effort to just set up the finale. Another way to explain this is by viewing the Harry Potter series in a three-act structure. Sorcerer’s Stone, Chamber of Secrets, and Prisoner of Azkaban essentially make up the first act that introduces our protagonists and key supporting characters as well as building up to the central conflict and main villain. From there, Goblet of Fire, Order of the Phoenix, and Half-Blood Prince propel the story forward with Voldemort’s return and some impactful character deaths (Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore, respectively) to inject heightened stakes for our heroes going forward. And, of course, the two-part Deathly Hallows concludes the story. If viewed through this lens, I don’t think Half-Blood Prince delivers on being the tragic conclusion to Harry’s second act. Much of my disappointment with this movie is due to the relative lack of impact from Dumbledore’s death at the hands of Snape. While both Felton and Rickman’s acting is on point during the scene atop the Astronomy Tower, what is lacking from this crucial moment is how little I was invested in Harry and Dumbledore’s relationship. I don’t blame the actors, but rather the screenplay and overall direction that severely limited their screentime together in favor of unnecessary teen romance subplots that feel out of place given the increasingly dire atmosphere present throughout some of the movie. In a way, it feels like Yates wanted to do his version of Goblet of Fire too late in the series that ends up diminishing the character dynamics, drama, and terror caused by Voldemort’s full-blown return. And the characters who end up feeling disproportionately affected by this drawback? Snape and Malfoy. After six movies, Tom Felton was finally given some meaningful writing and character work beyond simply being a privileged, racist bully towards Harry, Ron and Hermione. And when he’s on screen (particularly with Snape in the hallway, with Harry in the bathroom, and facing down Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower), he effectively captures my attention and makes me sympathize with Draco’s internal moral struggle trying to reconcile the pressure on him to please his father and Voldemort and his unspoken knowing that what he’s been asked to do is the wrong thing to do. Closely tied to Draco’s storyline is Snape, whose past as a Death Eater (only mentioned briefly in Goblet of Fire) comes to the forefront in his dealings with Bellatrix and Draco’s mother Narcissa (Helen McCrory). After promising her to protect Draco and assassinate Dumbledore if Draco is unable to do so, Snape’s true intentions remain shrouded in mystery up until he casts the Killing Curse against his boss and friend (at Dumbledore’s pleading). From there, his identity becomes firmly committed to Lord Voldemort’s vision of the future. Don’t these both sound like great character arcs? Too bad they only make for a handful of scenes because, due to Yates’s take on Half-Blood Prince, we needed the focus of the first two acts on Ron’s dating life and Harry and Hermione’s jealousy. Now, I understand that the state of the relationships between our three main characters is necessary for the last two films of the series. I just wish Yates had better balanced these elements to make for a rich story with distinct, yet equally compelling, character arcs. Another character that I found myself surprised by how much I enjoyed watching was Horace Slughorn (Jim Broadbent). For a character primarily featured in only one of the eight films, Slughorn ends up being fairly complex as someone who surrounds himself with greatness to conceal his own insecurities as well as evade confronting his greatest regret: enabling young Tom Riddle’s (Frank Dillane) insatiable curiosity with immortality and dark magic. Thanks largely to Broadbent’s performance opposite Radcliffe, the scene of Harry manipulating Slughorn to hand over his untainted memory of Riddle goes down (in my humble opinion) as one of the best acted scenes of the entire Harry Potter series. Ultimately, however, Half-Blood Prince doesn’t really come into its own until Harry and Dumbledore journey to find the Horcrux in the cave. From there on out, the movie becomes engaging all the way through. But it shouldn’t have taken nearly two hours of meandering, superfluous teen drama and plotting exposition to get there. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 1 (2010) When last watching the Harry Potter series from start to finish a few years ago, I remember being really down on the first half of Deathly Hallows. I found it poorly paced, narratively disjointed, and not very engaging given the seemingly low stakes in comparison to past films. Furthermore, its inevitable trappings as the first two acts of a three-act finale to this saga can definitely come off as unsatisfying by the time the credits roll. But something was different this time around. Coming off of the rushed storytelling of Order of the Phoenix and the stunting, exposition-heavy narrative of Half-Blood Prince, I found this movie a refreshing breather even though there’s still a lot going on. It felt like it had a good reason to take its time in telling its story, and ended up (mostly) keeping me engaged the whole way through. Contrary to me not giving it credit awhile ago, Deathly Hallows – Part 1 has some pretty great action and intense scenes during its first act. Notably, the Order escorting Harry from the Dursleys’ home in Little Whinging to the Weasleys’ home in the Burrows remains one of my favorite scenes of the franchise. Not only does Yates establish the lengths that Voldemort will go to to track down and kill Harry, but I’ve always loved Hagrid coming more to the forefront in this part of the story. He says it himself: he brought Harry to the Dursleys years before, and it was only fitting for him to take him away from Voldemort once more. Furthermore, in a similar vein to Dumbledore’s badass duel with Voldemort in Order of the Phoenix, the chase through London is another example of the creative team finally making combative magic feel grounded and sensible but also fun to watch. Despite the slight slowdown for the wedding between Bill Weasley (Domhnall Gleeson) and former Triwizard champion Fleur Delacour (Clémence Poésy), the movie allows breathing room for some tying up of loose ends. From the new Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour (Bill Nighy) delivering Dumbledore’s gifts to Harry, Ron and Hermione to the introduction of important elements of lore like Harry’s birthplace Godric’s Hallow and the story of the Deathly Hallows themselves, Deathly Hallows – Part 1 continues to remind the audience how rich the lore of Rowling’s magical world is while planting some seeds for the last movie (i.e. Harry’s first Golden Snitch, Gryffindor’s sword, the Elder Wand). Another sequence I ended up appreciating more upon rewatch was Harry, Ron and Hermione infiltrating the Ministry of Magic disguised as employees. Their mission: to steal the locket that is Voldemort’s true Horcrux. Who must they steal it from? None other than Dolores Umbridge, who has fully embraced her position in the puppet Ministry that Voldemort has propped up. As soon as she’s on screen, Staunton wastes no time reminding us just how much we love to hate Umbridge. And, of course, it’s great to see the three kids all grown up pulling off another one of their cockamamie schemes. But this is the part of Deathly Hallows – Part 1 that I was really worried about going into it. From them escaping the Ministry to being captured by Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor, I recalled the three protagonists wandering the woods and being angry with each other to be the least interesting collection of scenes in any Harry Potter movie. But in light of the two films that came before this, I ended up genuinely appreciating how much character work is done in this movie’s second act. For one thing, we get to see our three heroes (almost) completely on their own and tested to the greatest extent. Not only is there some good drama and tension from watching them forced to survive without any help or guidance from Dumbledore, the Order or the Weasleys, but these three do some of their best acting in the entire franchise as their character are brought to the brink enduring psychological turmoil and physical isolating from everything they know and love. I was particularly impressed by Grint playing the various dimensions of Ron’s erratic personality (largely caused by wearing the Horcrux around his neck) affecting his demeanor towards Ron and Hermione. While this middle act isn’t the most exciting or action-packed of any Harry Potter film, I feel like it was needed to make many of the moments in the last movie live up to their potential. Much of the third act sees our trio captured and sent to the residency of the Malfoys. Their escape scene makes for a solid final action piece, much thanks to the levity provided by Dobby (voice by Toby Jones) who I found much better utilized as the source of humor than as the annoying, paranoid side character in Chamber of Secrets. But the tone quickly changes to what is (in my humble opinion) one of the best-handled death scenes in the entire series right up there with Cedric in Goblet of Fire and Sirius in Order of the Phoenix. I think Radcliffe’s performance holding what, in real life, amounts to nothing in his hands opposite Jones’s beautifully tragic line delivery shows how underwhelming some of the other death scenes in both Deathly Hallows flicks (“Mad-Eye” Moody, anyone?) end up being. All that being said, I do think Deathly Hallows – Part 1 remains one of the relatively weaker films in the series simply due to it being the first half of one complete story. But I found myself appreciating it on its own terms much more this time around. And it accomplished what’s undeniably its most important task: exciting me for Deathly Hallows – Part 2. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2 (2011) For a summary of the production and release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2, click here. While some viewers are frustrated by the incomplete and unsatisfied feeling they get after watching Deathly Hallows – Part 1, I have heard few (if any) fans of the Harry Potter series disappointed by Deathly Hallows – Part 2. I am certainly one of the people who thoroughly enjoys this movie. That being said, there are both pros and cons to a movie that is virtually all payoff to the seven films that preceded it. For starters, the second half of Deathly Hallows has so many hype moments throughout the climactic Battle of Hogwarts that can effectively service any fan. From Harry and McGonagall confronting Snape in the Great Hall to McGonagall commanding Hogwarts itself to fight back to Molly Weasley (Julie Walters) finally getting her badass moment to shine by ruthlessly killing Bellatrix to Neville standing up to Voldemort AND slicing Nagini with the Sword of Gryffindor to…SEE WHAT I MEAN?!? So. Much. Payoff. And not just in the action scenes. For our main hero’s journey, Harry has plenty of meaningful closure to his story. Notably, his final scene with Snape (while not a gut punch) is always quietly heartbreaking even before the final twist of the series is revealed: Snape, a double agent, was always loyal Dumbledore (including killing him per Dumbledore’s request) and defended Harry out of love for his deceased mother Lily (Geraldine Somerville), and that Voldemort’s failed murder of Harry unintentionally made Harry into a Horcrux. Forgiving the fact that Alan Rickman unquestionably deserved more screen time in all the other movies to develop this backstory, what we learn about who Snape really is in Deathly Hallows – Part 2 retroactively redeems him and makes him one of the most complex and compelling characters in the entire franchise. But, more importantly, this revelation pushes Harry towards his fate: he must die by Voldemort’s hand. I always get chills during his “final” goodbye to Ron and Hermione and him using the Resurrection Stone to see his mother, father James (Adrian Rawlins), Sirius, and Lupin (who unceremoniously died offscreen…but I’ll get to that later 😊). All of this leads up to Harry coming to Voldemort of his own accord defenseless and ready to die (shoutout to Robbie Coltrane giving that gut-punch delivery of Hagrid disconcertedly expression his anguish about why Harry would ever in his right mind actually show up in the Forbidden Forest). For any hero’s journey, seeing the hero straight up sacrifice himself for the greater good evokes some universal respectability that few other heroes can muster in me. From here, Yates’s adaptation of Rowling’s writing gives us easily the most spiritual scene of the entire series with Harry tinkering on entering the afterlife alongside Dumbledore. Honestly, it was just nice to see Radcliffe and Gambon act opposite each other with everything out in the open (in addition to Gambon offering a touch of Richard Harris’s performance from the first two flicks to tie a neat bow on Dumbledore as a character). My final positive for Deathly Hallows – Part 2 is the epilogue. I know that this is controversial, but I’m personally someone who loves “full circle” endings. And Yates and Rowling giving the audience (and Harry) the happy ending he deserves where he’s moved on from Voldemort, married, and now has children that he’s sending off to Hogwarts like Mrs. Weasley did for him so many years before is (in my humble opinion) a perfect end cap for the series. With all that said, however, Deathly Hallows – Part 2 certainly has some drawbacks as a movie that relies almost exclusively on payoff. On the one hand, the film sets itself apart from most of the rest of the series (arguably with the exception of Order of the Phoenix) by pursuing a no-holds-barred, pedal-to-the-metal pace that never really lets the audience breathe from scene to scene. Surely, this is understandable given the more deliberate pace of Deathly Hallows – Part 1 but I do think there should’ve been more of an equitable balance between these last two movies in the series. Likewise, the almost exclusive focus on Harry’s journey with Voldemort wrapping up comes at the expense of most of the other characters lacking satisfying conclusions to their arcs. While we do finally get the Ron/Hermione romance cemented in the eons of cinematic history, I found that Draco and the Malfoys’ unceremonious departure from the Battle of Hogwarts left something to be desired from where his story left off in Half-Blood Prince. When it comes to the villains, however, I think Voldemort’s anticlimactic death always feels lackluster compared to his grand resurrection in Goblet of Fire and various other scenes in Order of the Phoenix and Deathly Hallows – Part 1. Certainly, Ralph Fiennes deserved better. But when it comes to the deaths in this movie, Lupin and Fred Weasley (James Phelps) are easily done the dirtiest. For one of the Weasley twins who’ve been in the series from the start, he deserved an on-screen death. As did Lupin, who doesn’t even get the slow-motion cut that Fred got. Instead, my personal favorite Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is simply shown dead on the ground holding the hand of his wife Nymphadora Tonks (Natalie Tena), who also probably deserved a better death scene. These criticisms aside, though, Deathly Hallows – Part 2 is still one of the best conclusions to any film series in modern history. The fact that it lands the ship that was started by seven films before it is part of what makes the Harry Potter franchise timeless and a modern classic cinematic saga. No matter my nitpicks or disappointments with certain aspects of the series, I’ll always look back fondly on these movies both as nostalgic aspects of my childhood and as a great, epic fantasy story that does far more right than it does wrong. With all that said, here is my official ranking of the eight films in the Harry Potter series:
What is your favorite (and least favorite) Harry Potter film? Would you like to see a reboot of the series, either in film or on television, in the near future? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst |
Austin McManusI have no academic or professional background in film production or criticism; I simply love watching and talking about movies. Archives
May 2024
Categories
All
|