Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Grade: B+
Harry Potter is growing up. And I’m not just saying that because I saw Daniel Radcliffe naked in “Equus.”
The books are progressively deeper and darker, and the movies are befittingly following suit. Relying less on special effects and more on human struggles and relationships (although computer generated wizardry is still plentiful and generally falls somewhere between satisfying and soaring, with a few claymation-like exceptions) in the last installment Harry finally met the Dark Lord face-to-face and now knows he must prepare himself for a great battle between good and evil. The world at large doesn’t believe him, the Ministry of Magic is undermining him, his protector isn’t speaking to him, and his friends don’t know how to help him. And then there are girl troubles. Adolescence is a bitch, and Radcliffe has imbued Harry with all the insecurities and uncertainties of a teenager who just happens to carry the fate of the world on his shoulders.
Pacing has always been an issue in both the books and the films, but while J.K. Rowling’s tales keep getting progressively longer, the films are mercifully getting tighter and shorter. While the first few films were little more than pallid books on tape, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” demonstrated what was possible with a little ingenuity and fearlessness. Director David Yates continues the upward trend, with both a willingness to cut and the ability to translate without transcribing. While it still takes a while for broomsticks to start flying and wands to start sparking, and little enchants or mystifies in quite the same way it did when we cracked the spine on the very first mesmerizing book, we now actually have people to care about replacing new worlds to discover. We see the transformation from childhood fancy into adult responsibility, and we empathize all the more because of it. Reminiscent of the same simple truths and basic motifs ever-present in “The Lord of the Rings” and “Star Wars” sagas with a great deal of Merlyn thrown in for good measure, themes of friendship, betrayal, loyalty, courage and sacrifice gain resonance as the series grows into the climax that will have so many of us waiting outside of Barnes & Noble at 10 a.m. this coming Saturday morning (if not the midnight before).
A tendency toward the convoluted has also been an issue in both the books and films, as Rowling relishes meandering, stretching, segueing, and referring back to hundreds if not thousands of pages ago, usually depending on Albus Dumbledore to explain it all in the book’s final chapter. Her expositions always come at the end rather than the beginning, and like all the other films this one sometimes gets confusing to follow, difficult to hear and challenging to decipher, but so long as one can separate the gooduns from the baduns it’s easy enough to go for the ride whether or not it all makes linear sense. You know who to root for, and here that remains more than enough.
Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint are becoming thespians in their own right, Ralph Fiennes continues to be creepy and scary as all shit as Lord Voldemort, and Michael Gambon has finally come into his own as Hogwarts' noble Headmaster and Harry’s gentle guide. But the star of the show is Imelda Staunton, so sugary evil you can’t help but wish for the most excruciatingly delectable death possible. She’s so much fun to hate it’s more than a little sinful.
I for one will never forget being unemployed, downtrodden, and picking up an oddly named children’s book because Rosie O’Donnell ranted on and on about it one day during her morning talk show. I will also always remember devouring it (and the next one, and the next one, and the next one…) via an Iddy Biddy Book Light while my partner slept in our loft bed above, being transported from my own troubles into a world I could scarcely have imagined.
Harry Potter is growing up. And I’m not just saying that because I saw Daniel Radcliffe naked in “Equus.”
The books are progressively deeper and darker, and the movies are befittingly following suit. Relying less on special effects and more on human struggles and relationships (although computer generated wizardry is still plentiful and generally falls somewhere between satisfying and soaring, with a few claymation-like exceptions) in the last installment Harry finally met the Dark Lord face-to-face and now knows he must prepare himself for a great battle between good and evil. The world at large doesn’t believe him, the Ministry of Magic is undermining him, his protector isn’t speaking to him, and his friends don’t know how to help him. And then there are girl troubles. Adolescence is a bitch, and Radcliffe has imbued Harry with all the insecurities and uncertainties of a teenager who just happens to carry the fate of the world on his shoulders.
Pacing has always been an issue in both the books and the films, but while J.K. Rowling’s tales keep getting progressively longer, the films are mercifully getting tighter and shorter. While the first few films were little more than pallid books on tape, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” demonstrated what was possible with a little ingenuity and fearlessness. Director David Yates continues the upward trend, with both a willingness to cut and the ability to translate without transcribing. While it still takes a while for broomsticks to start flying and wands to start sparking, and little enchants or mystifies in quite the same way it did when we cracked the spine on the very first mesmerizing book, we now actually have people to care about replacing new worlds to discover. We see the transformation from childhood fancy into adult responsibility, and we empathize all the more because of it. Reminiscent of the same simple truths and basic motifs ever-present in “The Lord of the Rings” and “Star Wars” sagas with a great deal of Merlyn thrown in for good measure, themes of friendship, betrayal, loyalty, courage and sacrifice gain resonance as the series grows into the climax that will have so many of us waiting outside of Barnes & Noble at 10 a.m. this coming Saturday morning (if not the midnight before).
A tendency toward the convoluted has also been an issue in both the books and films, as Rowling relishes meandering, stretching, segueing, and referring back to hundreds if not thousands of pages ago, usually depending on Albus Dumbledore to explain it all in the book’s final chapter. Her expositions always come at the end rather than the beginning, and like all the other films this one sometimes gets confusing to follow, difficult to hear and challenging to decipher, but so long as one can separate the gooduns from the baduns it’s easy enough to go for the ride whether or not it all makes linear sense. You know who to root for, and here that remains more than enough.
Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint are becoming thespians in their own right, Ralph Fiennes continues to be creepy and scary as all shit as Lord Voldemort, and Michael Gambon has finally come into his own as Hogwarts' noble Headmaster and Harry’s gentle guide. But the star of the show is Imelda Staunton, so sugary evil you can’t help but wish for the most excruciatingly delectable death possible. She’s so much fun to hate it’s more than a little sinful.
I for one will never forget being unemployed, downtrodden, and picking up an oddly named children’s book because Rosie O’Donnell ranted on and on about it one day during her morning talk show. I will also always remember devouring it (and the next one, and the next one, and the next one…) via an Iddy Biddy Book Light while my partner slept in our loft bed above, being transported from my own troubles into a world I could scarcely have imagined.
Some things you love because you love. And some things you will dearly miss when they finally come to an end.
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More Movie Info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0373889/
posted by SternReviews @ 7:22 PM
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