The end of the Harry Potter film series draws near. Today, I am one
movie closer to the conclusion, having just seen the seventh book in the
theaters. I admit I raised an eyebrow when I found out that there would
be eight Harry Potter movies; after all, seven is the most magically
powerful number, and its symbolic significance in the series is immense.
On the other hand, I liked the idea of having an extra movie to look
forward to. But I should have taken it as an early indication that when
it comes to really getting to the soul of the series, the moviemakers
haven’t got it quite right.
I’ve been lenient with the Harry
Potter movies so far, understanding that it’s a tricky business to pull
off a faithful adaptation and that everyone will want to see something
different. I went into this movie prepared to overlook some odd
interpretive choices, but I wasn’t ready for the extent of the
differences. While the movie, helmed by David Yates, is well-acted and
often intense, I couldn’t help feeling as though the soul was largely
sapped out of it. Some spoilers follow as I try to dissect what didn’t work for me, as well as what did.
Back when I watched the sixth movie, I was disappointed that my
favorite line in the book - Dumbledore’s “I am not worried, Harry; I am
with you” - didn’t make it into the film, and I feared that my favorite
line in the seventh book would suffer a similar fate. Not only did we
not hear Harry say, “I won’t blast people out of my way just because
they’re there; that’s Voldemort’s job,” the moment that precipitated it
was left out entirely. Instead of Harry being exposed to Voldemort
through an act of mercy, it’s through the bravery of another character,
who goes out in a blaze of sacrificial glory. I get that screenwriter
Steve Kloves wanted to give this character a more dramatic exit, but the
whole thing that made that death so shocking was that this was a
bystander helplessly caught in the crossfire. The death in the book was
symbolic of an end to Harry’s childhood and an indication of dark times
to come, when many innocents would be callously slaughtered.
The movie sets that oppressive tone from the start, but for the most
part, we see very little of the effect that Voldemort is having in the
world at large. We are almost completely disconnected. There’s no
Patronus that greets Harry and his friends with news when they take
shelter in Sirius’s house. No tense visit from Remus Lupin, whose
seeming indifference toward his family inspires such rage in Harry in
the book. No bumping into Arthur Weasley at the Ministry of Magic. No
overhearing Tonks’ dad, fellow student Dean Thomas and goblin Griphook
in the forest. No recollection from Ron of his sojourn with his brother
Bill and his new bride Fleur over Christmas. No secret Potter Watch
broadcast. And no liberation of throngs of half-blood wizards at the
Ministry of Magic, though at least we get a clear sense that Ron feels
responsibility for the man whose form he is imitating and his family.
Still, as isolated as Harry, Ron and Hermione are in the book, so much
is stripped away here that we almost forget how intimately their mission
is tied to the fate of the world.
Of the scenes in the first
part of the book that I felt a strongest pull toward, few remained
intact. Most were altered, sometimes subversively, while others were
omitted entirely. No interaction at all between Dudley and Harry. No
discovery of a long-ago letter from Harry’s mother in Sirius’s house.
Harry shows up at the wedding of Bill and Fleur as himself; instead of
Luna’s piercing gaze recognizing her disguised friend instantly, we have
her tell her father to leave Harry alone because he really doesn’t want
to talk to them right now but is too polite to say so. By the same
token, the vibrant mural inside her house depicting her friends makes no
appearance in the movie. Kreacher’s gripping tale loses all context and
urgency, and we have no understanding of how deeply he cared for his
master, how heinously Voldemort used him, how dramatically this bitter
old servant changed in the face of Harry and Hermione’s empathy. Once
they’ve escaped the Ministry, we don’t see Ron “fretting over the fate
of the Cattermoles.” Voldemort’s confrontation with Grindelwald is
presented in such a manner that we get no sense of remorse or wisdom
from Dumbledore’s old nemesis; he merely comes across as crazed and
easily relinquishes the information Voldemort seeks.
Of all
the changes to the movie, I’m pretty sure the one that rankles the most
with this Potterphile raised on Tolkien is the death of one particular
sniveling follower of the Dark Lord. This character dies at the same
time, in the same place, as in the book, but the circumstances disregard
one of the most important payoffs in the series. In the book, this
moment recalls the time in the third book when Dumbledore told Harry
that he might one day be very glad that he spared this man’s life, much
as Gandalf told Frodo not to bemoan Bilbo’s act of pity in sparing
Gollum. A long-ago act of mercy has powerful ripples late in the game,
yet another of the book’s pervasive reminders of Harry’s fundamental
decency. But in the movie, he merely dies of a projectile to the back,
and there’s no indication of a spark of gratitude or hesitation in the
face of the boy who once stood up for him despite his deadly betrayal.
Along with all of these individual moments, there’s the fact that key
plot points just don’t get very sufficient explanation. At the end of
the movie, my mom, who hasn’t read the books, didn’t have a sense that
Dumbledore was carrying a lot of skeletons around in his closet. She
thought the bit of mirror we see Harry use to summon help was a piece of
the Mirror of Erised from the first movie. She didn’t understand what
the Hallows and Horcruxes had to do with each other. This last one seems
especially egregious. Harry has no time whatsoever to reflect on his
new knowledge of the Hallows; as soon as he finds out about them, he’s
whisked off to his next crisis, so there’s no time for an obsession with
them to fester and burrow into his spirit. In his final scene, there’s
no sense of him making a conscious choice between pursuing the power
represented by the Hallows and seeking the Horcruxes as instructed by
Dumbledore. Maybe that will come in the eighth movie. But I’m not so
sure.
None of this is to say that there was nothing enjoyable
about the movie. Daniel Radcliffe was appropriately intense as Harry,
and I was even more impressed with Emma Watson as vulnerable but mature
Hermione. Of the trio, Rupert Grint impressed me most; he’s really come
into his own in the last couple of movies, and after all his comedic
hi-jinks in the sixth movie, he has a much darker road to travel here,
spending a good portion of the movie surly and drained of all joy.
Evanna Lynch is luminous in her later scenes that demonstrate Luna’s
capacity for respect and kindness, and Tom Felton’s nearly wordless
performance is effective in conveying how unsettled Draco Malfoy,
Harry’s schoolyard enemy, is now that Voldemort is holding sway. Jason
Isaacs, usually so silkily sneering as Draco’s father Lucius, is
scarcely recognizable here, so haggard and haunted is his countenance.
Several new characters are briefly introduced, with Rhys Ifans making
the biggest impression as Luna’s eccentric father Xenophilius. Also
noteworthy is Andy Linden’s slimy Mundungus Fletcher and Guy Henry’s
poised, poisonous Pius Thicknesse. I confess myself disappointed with
Matyelok Gibbs’ portrayal of Auntie Muriel, though part of that is down
to the screenplay - and the screenplay in general leaves a lot to be
desired. She comes across as a gossipy old woman, but we get no sense of
just how mean-spirited she is, and all the comedic aspects of her
character vanish. Of course, much of that is tied in with the wedding
ceremony itself, which we never get to see; we only get a small peek at
the reception. I was also disappointed in our one glimpse of Neville;
it’s meant to show us he’s got gumption, but instead he just comes
across as foolhardy.
There were a few added scenes that I
actually quite enjoyed. I liked the fact that one of the first things we
see in the movie is Hermione at home, a sight never before afforded by
the books or films, and we witness her Obliviation of her parents,
erasing her presence from their memories. We hear about it in the book
after the fact, but it’s powerful to see here, and it really establishes
her emotional state, as well as her ability to put those emotions aside
in service of her mission. I also thought the scene of her and Harry
dancing together in a rare moment of unguarded giddiness was a nice
addition, especially since the mood immediately turns somber afterward.
Even more than that, I loved the little scene at Sirius’s house in which
she tries to teach Ron how to play Fur Elise on the piano.
Another great moment has George sauntering into the Weasley kitchen
while Harry and Ginny share an enthusiastic kiss and observing them with
a smirk. The cluelessness of the headphones-wearing waitress the trio
encounter as they flee Death Eaters also made me smile. Moments like
this may not have been in the book, but they felt authentic.
More iconic scenes were handled well too. The Seven Potters in the
living room was warm and wonderful, a comic high point of the movie.
While I was annoyed at the implication that Harry, Ron and Hermione
basically blundered into their Ministry break-in rather than carefully
planning it for days, I thought most of that segment was handled well
and certainly was action-packed. The Christmas scene in the churchyard,
with the singing of the choir drifting out from the church and the snow
swirling 'round and Hermione comforting Harry and creating a wreath of
flowers for his parents' grave, was quite moving, and I was pleasantly
surprised to see the inscription on their gravestone intact, though most
who hadn't read the book probably wouldn't have known what it said, as
the stone is hard to read and neither Harry nor Hermione mentions it.
The destruction of the locket Horcrux is a thrilling, albeit rather terrifying and steamy, sequence. The Tale of the Three Brothers
slows down the movie, I suppose, but I enjoyed Watson’s narration of
it, accompanied by eerie animation. This comes in the midst of the
trio’s meeting with Xeno, one of the most intense scenes in the film.
Everything that happens from that point on is pretty riveting, but what I
was most interested in was the final scene involving Harry and his
friends. More than anything else, I was anxious to know whether this
scene would come across properly. Although a few details changed, Kloves
and Yates do it justice. It made me cry, no easy feat for the girl with
the defective tear ducts. The beauty of the setting and Alexandre
Desplat’s score in this scene contributed to the near-perfect ending -
though I do find it odd that we’ve still been given no indication that I
heard as to who owns this cottage that serves as such convenient
refuge. The scene is still better in the book, but the movie version is
almost as affecting.
A lot happens in this movie. It never
felt to me like it dragged, which was a complaint I’ve heard from a
couple of people; of course, I have always had a rather high tolerance
for people wandering around in the woods in movies and books. What
bothered me wasn’t the pacing; it was the priorities. Most of the things
that seemed to me to be most important about the first portion of the
seventh book don’t make it into the movie. Hence, while a lot of care
went into Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part I and I
still enjoyed the film for what it was, this dark adaptation that
disregards most of the book’s most spiritually stimulating moments
demonstrates more effectively than any of the others that the movies are
no substitutes for the books.
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