J. K. Rowling's Careful Craftsmanship Encourages The Great Snape Debate

Back in 2007, I received a phone call from the bookstore where I had worked over the winter season. On the phone was one of my colleagues, excitedly informing me about a Borders exclusive book intended for precisely the sort of invested Harry Potter fan that she knew me to be. How could I say no to such an enthusiastic endorsement? I made my way over to the mall and purchased The Great Snape Debate, a book that lays out two opposing cases regarding Severus Snape, considered by many to be the most intriguing character in the series.

On one cover is The Case for Snape’s Innocence and the illustration of a fiery phoenix symbolizing his loyalty to Dumbledore. Flipping the book over led me to The Case for Snape’s Guilt, accompanied by a fearsome green snake symbolizing his allegiance to Lord Voldemort. The book came out mere months before the final installment of the trilogy, so its window of prime interest was limited, as evidenced by the fact it turned up in the bargain bin by the end of the year.

Nonetheless, for those who know Harry Potter only through the movies, there is room for speculation. Granted, most people who would be interested enough in Snape’s allegiances to read this book would have read the series itself by now, and some of the material covered in The Great Snape Debate does not apply to the movies, in which his presence is minimal. Still, with the final installments fast approaching, I thought this would be a good time to brush off this fun little guide. If nothing else, it’s a testament to how well J. K. Rowling constructed the character, and as such, it might be equally enjoyed by those who have already read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

For the most part, the two halves of the book mirror each other extremely well, with five complementary chapters in each. A lengthy sixth chapter entitled Who Is Snape?, written by acclaimed science fiction author Orson Scott Card, throws the balance in favor of the innocence section by about 30 pages, and I find it odd that no parallel chapter exists on the other side. While his speculations include the possibility that Snape’s intentions have been self-serving or malicious, he clearly sides with the notion that this surly headmaster will ultimately prove himself to be “one of the good guys.” This segment of the book is the most scholarly, and it also includes an intriguing comparison with Gollum, one of my favorite literary characters, as Card describes both of them as morally ambiguous characters who become much more central to the story than originally intended.

The first chapter in each half gives a general overview of reasons to believe that Snape is either malicious or benevolent, and each concludes with a rather snarky top ten list citing reasons that readers either love or hate him. Sprinkled throughout are random references to pop culture; for instance, the “love him” list mentions Mission: Impossible and Grey’s Anatomy, while the “hate him” list references America’s Next Top Model and Herbie: Fully Loaded. Mostly good for a chuckle, as well as a bit of eye-rolling. The first chapters themselves lay out fairly convincing cases for Snape’s innocence and guilt, using quotes from the book and Rowling, literary precedents and logical detective work.

The second chapters - Snape the Villain and Snape the Hero - continue the debate, discussing whether he is a more intriguing character as a villain or as a hero. These chapters, too, are loaded with nods to pop culture, several of which are totally irrelevant but good for a laugh. For instance, the villain chapter muses that Snape’s guilty pleasure is Dancing With the Stars. More pertinent is the hero chapter’s list of anti-heroes from literature, film and television, including Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, Han Solo in Star Wars, Elphaba in Wicked and Kate Austen in LOST.

By the third chapters, which focus on Snape’s biographical details, I had grown quite tired of the incessant references to his “greying underpants” in the traumatic scene that Harry witnesses in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The fixation strikes me as rather juvenile. Then again, the list of songs found on Snape’s iPod and the short essay on various anagrams of his name are pretty silly as well. More compelling is the textual evidence given on both sides suggesting the Snape has led either an underhanded or an upstanding life. For instance, the guilty side mentions his invention and implementation of the violent Sectumsempra spell, while the innocent side makes note of the fact that Hermione’s cat Crookshanks, whose half-Kneazle status renders him an especially good judge of character, goes ballistic at the sight of a traitor in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban but seems to have no objection to Snape.

The fourth chapters focus entirely on the movie career of Alan Rickman and cancel each other out, proving only that Rickman is an exceptionally talented actor who is equally adept at portraying heroes and villains. His magnificent portrayal of brooding Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility is no more evidence of Snape’s sympathetic nature than his seething portrayal of the malevolent Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves is evidence of Snape’s vice. However, there can be little doubt that despite his limited screen time, Rickman’s performance is a factor in the fascination with this character, so I didn’t mind the diversion much, especially since it gave me a decent idea which of Rickman’s movies I would be most interested in watching.

Finally, the last chapters have to do with Slytherin, the House of which Snape is the Head. The guilty side mentions the long-held associations between snakes and evil and notes the fact that very few Slytherins throughout the series are portrayed in a sympathetic manner. Meanwhile, the innocent side points out that the Slytherins’ key trait, ambition, can be a very positive thing, and it also discusses some Slytherins who seem to break the pattern, including vain but kind Horace Slughorn and sneering but helpful Phineas Nigellus Black. Also interesting is a sidebar questioning whether Snape has ever loved anyone.

The publication of this book, whose contributors include Amy Berner, Joyce Millman and the aforementioned Card, demonstrates that I was far from the only one deeply invested in the question of Severus Snape’s loyalties. A similar debate raged throughout LOST’s fan community in regard to Ben Linus, and I found myself applying some of the logic in this book to that character, whom I have often compared to Snape. J. K. Rowling’s series has inspired dozens of books of commentary. This one is nowhere near the most detailed or eye-opening, and at times it‘s just plain silly. However, for those who find this character as fascinating as I do, The Great Snape Debate is worth diving into.

Prepare to get LOST in Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland

As LOST winds to a close, I have found myself seeking comparisons with my favorite show in every movie that I watch. When it comes to Tim Burton’s vision of Alice in Wonderland, I hardly need to look. Indeed, it’s one of the reasons I was so interested in the movie, though I’ve always found various incarnations to be trippy to the point of being rather terrifying. Lewis Carroll’s classic story is indisputably one of LOST‘s key texts, having been referenced explicitly in two episode titles (White Rabbit and Through the Looking Glass) and multiple times within the show.

The very first image in the series is of heroic doctor Jack Shephard opening his eyes in the middle of the jungle. There exists the possibility that the series could end this way, with the implication that all six seasons have been a dream. While I will feel extremely cheated if this is the case, the heavy influence of Alice in Wonderland makes me nervous, especially when coupled with another key text, The Wizard of Oz, which happens to be the next movie Tim Burton is thinking of helming. While in the books, Oz is a real place, the iconic 1939 film implies that it’s just as much a dream as Wonderland is in the book.

In Burton’s film, it’s never entirely clear whether Wonderland is, in fact, a dream. We never see Alice fall asleep or wake up. But as in The Wizard of Oz, connections are drawn between several people from her everyday life and various characters she meets in Wonderland. Moreover, throughout her adventure, she repeatedly insists that she is in a dream. At one point, she and the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp), who in this version is her most cherished Wonderland companion, share a conversation about the subject. She informs him that he is a figment of her imagination, and that only someone half-mad like her could have dreamed him up, which is strikingly similar to what Hurley tells Libby in Dave, the season two episode that either debunks an unpalatable theory or explains the series. “In real life,” Hurley says, “no girl like you would ever like me. Remember when I said I knew you from somewhere? Well, maybe it's because I made you up.”

Hurley is the character most associated with childlike innocence but also with mental instability. In season four, he theorizes that only he, Ben and John are able to see the elusive cabin in the jungle because they are the craziest. Could all of the bizarre happenings on the Island be the product of a deranged mind? The same question applies to Wonderland. Mia Wasikowska is luminous as Alice, a confused young woman who is overwhelmed by the world around her and the responsibilities being forced upon her. Easily distracted by her daydreams, she possesses an independent spirit unwelcome in her stuffy society.

Burton does his best to make the Wonderland to which she escapes look and sound as disorienting as possible. Depp, who is so adept at portraying vividly eccentric characters, embodies the insanity of this world as a man prone to lapsing into strings of incoherent psychobabble. And even when his tongue doesn’t run away with his mind, everything he says is as off-kilter as his voice, which is sometimes a guttural Scottish growl, sometimes a lisping whisper. Meanwhile, he repeatedly poses the query, “Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?”, a riddle which, like many of the mysteries on LOST, seems to have no solution.

On LOST, the first explicit reference to Alice in Wonderland comes when Jack pursues his deceased father through the jungle and John compares the specter to the White Rabbit (Michael Sheen). Alice, too, has lost her father, the one person in her life who understood her and regarded her “madness” as a mark of a superior mind. As she chases this strange creature, one might say that she, too, is seeking her father, or at least a connection with their shared sense of the fantastic.

Alice finds herself in a world ruled over by two queens of opposing dispositions. The Red Queen (Helena Bonham-Carter, one of four Harry Potter alums in the film) is an unstable tyrant prone to doling out violent punishments. Meanwhile the White Queen (Anne Hathaway), all grace and benevolence, resides in a kingdom reminiscent of Tolkien’s Elven haven Rivendell. She strives against her sister but is incapable of harming another, nor will she force anyone else to do so, although her desires are usually fairly evident. These white and red monarchs are much like the white and black figures controlling so many of the events on the Island, and when Alice explodes in frustration that ever since her arrival in Wonderland she has been told what to do and who to be, it sounds an awful lot like LOST‘s driving Fate vs Free Will debate.

Another recurring theme on the show has to do with characters on the Island crossing paths back in the everyday world. There’s a sense that even if there is a multiplicity of worlds, these particular people are destined to always be a part of one another’s lives. The first character to state this explicitly is conflicted torturer Sayid’s star-crossed love Nadia, but starting with the second season, the sentiment becomes the catchphrase of unanchored Scotsman Desmond. “See you in another life,” he says, time and again. In the movie, Absolem the Caterpillar (Alan Rickman), a creature inextricably linked with the notion of transformation, repeats this very phrase after explaining to Alice that she arrived as the “wrong Alice” but is now her proper self. Another driving theme in LOST involves flawed characters embracing the best of themselves as a result of many trials.

Of course, though I recommend it particularly to fans of the show, you don’t have to watch LOST to appreciate this movie. It offers a new twist on an old tale and does so with plenty of eye-popping spectacle. Though the 3-D elements seem less organic than in Avatar, they add to the fun, particularly whenever the March Hare (Paul Whitehouse) takes it into his head to lob a piece of dinnerware in the audience’s direction. The film often feels freakish, but as I remarked to my parents, any worthwhile adaptation of Alice in Wonderland is going to wind up looking a lot like an acid trip. It’s a strange, strange journey, but it’s one worth making, especially if you, like Alice and her father, have ever had the inclination to believe six impossible things before breakfast.

A Fine Bunch of Movies in 1999 Bring the Century to a Close

I graduated from high school and started college in 1999. In the midst of my busy year, I managed to see a few movies. I'm surprised at how few movies from the year I've seen in the decade since, but I think I got around to seeing most of the ones I was really interested in, and a couple of my favorites of 1999 would easily make it onto my best of the decade list.

October Sky - This movie, based on a true story, introduced me to Jake Gyllenhaal, and it's probably my favorite of his roles so far. Here, he's earnest young Homer Hickam, who dreams of building a rocket, despite the disapproval of his no-nonsense dad, played by Chris Cooper. It's a great family film about overcoming obstacles to achieve one's dreams.

Star Wars: Episode One - The Phantom Menace - Yes, Jake Lloyd was pretty annoying as mini-Anakin, and some of the dialogue was just silly. But I felt like a true dyed-in-the-wool Star Wars geek when I went to the midnight premiere with my dad and brother in the last month of my senior year, and it sure was fun to see my fellow geeks crawl out of the woodwork and announce themselves just before we parted ways. I loved the light-hearted feel of this movie, the gorgeous seascapes, the exciting pod race, the return of old friends like R2-D2, C-3PO and Yoda and new faces like the lovely Natalie Portman, brooding Ewan McGregor and contemplative Liam Neeson. It was a really terrific movie experience. And Weird Al's fantastic American Pie parody, The Saga Begins, makes me even more favorably inclined toward it.

Tarzan - One of the few major animated Disney features of my lifetime that I didn't catch in the theater, this story of a young man raised by gorillas has elements in common with The Jungle Book, but in this case the civilized join the jungle instead of the other way around. Though I find Jane rather irritating, I love her relationship with her dad, which is reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast. The animation is great, and while I tend to prefer character-oriented songs in Disney musicals, the more background-ish songs Phil Collins provides for the movie are terrific, and I always smile when I hear one of them on the radio.

Muppets From Space - As Muppet movies go, this one is a little strange, and somewhat controversial among fans for the unconventional backstory it creates for Gonzo. There are a lot of characters and subplots, and there's not much of an opportunity for the Muppets to demonstrate their musical genius. But it's always fun to hang out with the Muppets, and I know I had a great time when we saw this in the theater. Along with the established characters, I loved the crotchety antagonist played by Jeffrey Tambor as well as the burly bear who serves as his reluctant henchman.

Angela's Ashes - Somehow, I never did read the Frank McCourt memoir upon which this movie is based, but after finally seeing the film a couple years ago, I was reassured that I really need to do that sometime. The movie tells the gritty but inspiring tale of the author's impoverished youth in Ireland and how he escaped his dire circumstances to pursue a teaching career in America. We watched it on St. Patrick's Day, but it's definitely worth a look any time of year.

Pokemon: The First Movie - It's not exactly superior cinema, but I recall this one fondly as an icon of my time with my brother Nathan that year. I was a bit befuddled when he first became obsessed with the Japanese series that was taking America by storm, but he soon got me hooked, and we spent many an afternoon watching the cartoon together. Eventually, he and our neighbor also taught me how to play the rather involved card game, which led to me spending way too much money on supplementary packs whenever we went to the mall. I was a full-fledged fan by the time the two of us saw the movie in the theater, and I reveled in both the cheesiness of the dialogue, especially on the part of demi-villains Jesse, James and Meowth, and the touching message of brotherhood that it espoused. And adorable, electrically charged Pikachu. Sooo much Pikachu...

Toy Story 2 - I tend to be a little suspicious of sequels, especially those put out by Disney. A lot of them aren't really up to snuff. But this fantastic film by Pixar was every bit as good as the first buddy flick that so dramatically introduced computer animation to much of the populace. The first was about two very different characters overcoming jealousy and learning to work together. The second has more to do with the fear of obsolescence and dealing with the changes that come with the passing of time. It's both darker and funnier than the first, and the animation quality is even better.

Galaxy Quest - As a lifelong Star Trek enthusiast, I just loved this film that spoofs everything about the show and especially its fandom. Tim Allen is hilarious as the egotistical actor who played the captain on the Trek-like show a number of years earlier. He and his castmates now subject themselves to conventions and other rather degrading events, since they can't find work anywhere else. Though they're all sick of these roles, they find themselves having to do the acting jobs of their lives when a group of peaceful extraterrestrials welcomes them aboard their ship, seeking aid from the heroes whose adventures they have studied so carefully, believing them to be "historical documents." There's a constant battery of jokes aimed at those who have grown up with Star Trek, so it's ideal for Trekkies who don't take themselves too seriously. Great performances all around, especially the fantastically dry Alan Rickman as the world-weary Shakespearean actor who hates being reduced to a catch-phrase.

The Green Mile - One of my two favorite films of the year. I wanted to see it when it first came out, but it took me a couple of years, in part because the length and Stephen King scared me off. I've come to consider myself quite a fan of King, but I usually can't stomach his stories; I don't do horror as a rule, and King is king in that genre. But The Green Mile hardly qualifies. Yes, there are elements of both the violent and the supernatural here, but mostly it's a contemplative and deeply moral film. Tom Hanks stars as the warden of death row in a southern prison. He and his fellow guards are calm and fair, treating their prisoners with dignity, with the result that they have few problems among their prisoners. But the arrival of a psychopathic prisoner, a sadistic guard and a meek alleged murderer named John Coffee who, despite his enormous size, doesn't seem capable of harming a fly, mark a season of great change for these guards. Moving and thought-provoking with an excellent cast, it's an outstanding film, and after reading the book, I can say that it's one of the most faithful adaptations of a novel that I've seen.

The Sixth Sense - As much as I loved The Green Mile, I wasn't entirely surprised; I'd heard that it wasn't really a horror movie, and I knew that King had written things before that weren't entirely terrifying. But all I had to go on with The Sixth Sense at the time I saw it were trailers that were designed to make it look as creepy as possible. I watched it under duress, planning to bury my head behind my popcorn for most of the movie. But gradually, I found myself drawn in, and by the end of the movie I realized that this hadn't been a horror movie at all. A thriller, yes, but that's an important distinction. I loved the twist ending, the compassionate solution to Cole's problem, the touching relationship between Cole and his mother. But mostly, I loved Haley Joel Osment. I'd seen him before, in Forrest Gump, but I didn't realize it at the time, and anyway his part in that movie was too small to make much of an impression on me. But boy, is he amazing in this movie! With this film, he hooked me for life. Which makes it very distressing that he hasn't been in a movie in several years...

One of these days I'll rent a batch of movies from 1999 and see if my list needs to change a little, but for now, I'm quite content with these selections, especially the last two, which haven't lost any of their luster in the past decade.

Jim Broadbent and Teen Silliness Prevail in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Late one Friday night two years ago, the seventh book in the Harry Potter series hit shelves. Like thousands of other Potter fans, I stood in line for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and though I did my best to savor my reading experience, I had nonetheless devoured the conclusion of the epic saga by Monday night - at which point I, like so many others, felt a searing sense of loss. No more books to anticipate. How could we stand it? Eventually, we recovered, and we found a salve in the knowledge that while the books were finished, three movies remained. Now we are down to two.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is one of the funniest books in the series. It's also one of the most emotionally wrenching. I hoped that the movie would be able to successfully convey both extremes, and though I often tut-tutted over the film's many omissions, I believe that screenwriter Steve Kloves and director David Yates ultimately pulled the task off admirably. Would I have done some things differently? You bet. But I applauded as loudly as anyone when the credits began to roll. (Fair warning: Here be spoilers. I try not to spill too much, but if you haven't seen the movie yet, you may want to skim.)

Half-Blood Prince finds Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) poised on the brink of adulthood. Within the space of a year, he has witnessed the deaths of two friends, and he knows that his nemesis, the evil Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes, who does not appear in this film), is gaining strength. Eventually, they will have to face each other again; meanwhile, he finds himself in unusually close confidence with Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) as the headmaster shares several memories that shed light on the Dark Lord's early years. While arming himself with this knowledge, he devotes most of his school hours to homework, romantic entanglements and Draco Malfoy, who he's sure is up to something sinister. There's also the matter of Dumbledore's assignment to retrieve a crucial memory from Horace Slughorn (Jim Broadbent), the old potions master who has returned to his post after a lengthy absence.

Radcliffe is terrific as Harry, particularly during the movie's lighter moments. One notable thing about the sixth installment is the extraordinary amount of silly behavior displayed by hormonal teenagers. Ron (Rupert Grint) is by far the worst offender in this regard, at least of the trio, but Harry and Hermione (Emma Watson) each have their moments. There are many awkward pauses and nervous giggles, and food is constantly being used as a prop to enhance the comedy of the situation.

Up until this point, Grint has been somewhat underused in the films, often given lame dialogue and few opportunities to make a tangible contribution. Here, he is frequently front and center, and acting like a complete doofus. Yes, he's still used almost entirely for comic relief, but I'm okay with that; his performance, particularly during the scene in which Ron accidentally ingests a powerful love potion, is inspired. The film might have delved a bit more into his jealousy and insecurity than it did; his reactions to certain events don't seem as vehement as they could be. But Kloves concentrates these emotions in Hermione, which is a decision I can live with.

While Ron spends much of the movie swaggering, we see Hermione at her most vulnerable, and she turns to Harry for comfort, knowing that things aren't going so well for him in the romance department either. It's sweet to see the depth of their friendship here, knowing that the relationship is purely platonic. Harry does get on Hermione's nerves, however, as he surpasses her best efforts in Potions by following the instructions scribbled in his second-hand textbook. In this movie, then, we see Hermione at her most emotional, stung by Ron's insensitive behavior and seething that Harry is coasting along on academic dishonesty, cheating from some past student who might not have been a very nice person.

As Dean Thomas, who is dating Ginny Weasley (Bonnie Wright), Alfie Enoch scarcely says a word, but it's still a more interesting role than he's ever had before, so it's a shame that we never get to witness their break-up, or even hear of a definitive end to their relationship. He just drops out of the movie. Anna Shaffer gets a moment or two to make eyes at Harry as Romilda Vane, but it's Jessie Cave as Lavender Brown, who throws herself all over an initially unprotesting Ron, who really shows the female capacity for silliness. She spends the first part of the movie sighing and swooning whenever Ron comes near; once they're together, she smothers him with public displays of affection, draping him with a gaudy love locket, calling him "Won-Won," drawing tokens of her regard in fogged windows and, of course, snogging him relentlessly. Almost as jarring is Freddie Stroma as conceited Cormac McLaggen, whose attentions toward Hermione are as amusing as they are unwelcome. His storyline wraps up before Christmas, but not before an encounter with Severus Snape (Alan Rickman) that is one of the funniest moments completely invented for the film. None of these inadequate love interests is part of the picture by the time the movie's mood turns dark for Harry and Dumbledore's dangerous late-night Horcrux-hunting adventure, but each contributes significantly to the film's lighter portion.

Among secondary students, Tom Felton is the standout as Draco Malfoy, who for the first time becomes a truly three-dimensional character. In early scenes, he struts around arrogantly, looking quite creepy with his pale face and white-blond hair contrasting starkly with dark outfits that almost seem out of The Matrix. There's a military precision to his movements as he proudly prepares for the task that Voldemort has set him. But as the film progresses, we see, mostly in short asides that shift the perspective from Harry to Draco, that he's struggling, and by the end of the movie we witness real agony and pathos from him. I would have liked for his conversation with Dumbledore to have gone on a bit longer than it did - long enough, at least, for the headmaster to utter one of the most important lines in the series. But their encounter is riveting nonetheless; Draco has never been so fascinating. Unfortunately, his henchmen Crabbe and Goyle (Jamie Waylett and Josh Herdman) scarcely appear in the movie at all; theirs is one of several subplots that gets cut, making many of the film's events seem much more coincidental than those in the book.

Sadly, another student almost entirely absent is Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis), the almost-Chosen One who is much more competent and courageous than anyone would initially guess. He doesn't have an especially large role in the sixth book, but there are still opportunities for him to shine: Harry's staunch loyalty to him on the Hogwarts Express; Professor McGonagall's (Maggie Smith) unexpected words of praise during their class scheduling conference; his improved performance in light of having a custom wand for the first time; his participation in the defense against the Death Eaters who infiltrate the school as this installment concludes. None of that shows up in the movie. In fact, as I recall, he only speaks in one scene, when he offers Harry a drink at Slughorn's Christmas party, as he's been deemed unfit for the professor's elite Slug Club but worthy of serving as a waiter to its members. An earlier scene shows him at a dinner party thrown by Slughorn, but aside from sporting a very snazzy vest, he makes no contribution to the evening.

On the other hand, Evanna Lynch is positively radiant as Luna Lovegood, the ethereal, eccentric fifth-year Ravenclaw who can always be counted on to provide a startling observation. She replaces Tonks (Natalia Tena) as Harry's liberator after he finds himself in a nasty jam on the train, and though I hate the way Tonks is shunted aside in this movie, the scene is so funny and sweet that I don't mind the change. While I wish we could've heard Luna commentate a Quidditch match, we do get to see her support her friends by wearing her enormous lion's head, and her all-too-brief scene at Slughorn's Christmas party is wonderful. Quick props to Georgina Leonidas as Katie Bell for giving us what is perhaps the film's creepiest image, and I should also mention Robert Knox as Slug Club hopeful Marcus Belby, who's played mostly for laughs as a ravenous eater with a tenuous family connection to a famous potioneer. Tragically, Knox was stabbed to death days after he finished filming, cutting short a career that had barely begun.

I was thrilled to see Fred and George Weasley (James and Oliver Phelps) steal a couple of scenes; because they are no longer in school, I feared they might get cut altogether, but they share the spotlight in an eye-popping detour to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the Diagon Alley joke shop they co-own. This early scene is pure eye candy, and it's such fun to see them careen around the shop, speaking in unison and hawking their wares, while missing no opportunity to give their little brother a hard time. Sadly, not only is Percy absent from the film, he's never mentioned at all, which would make me nervous that his storyline might not be resolved at all, except that he's listed in the credits for both installments of Deathly Hallows. I suppose we just have to wait extra long to cram in three books' worth of family tension. It's also taking an inordinately long time to introduce Bill Weasley. Omitting him and Fleur Delacour from the movie strikes me as most unfortunate; I don't see how there will be time to establish meaningful character arcs for them prior to their wedding. Then again, post-Hogwarts romance in general doesn't seem to fare too well; the complex relationship between Remus Lupin (David Thewlis) and Tonks that is so subtly developed throughout the book is distilled to one throwaway line in the middle of the movie that is likely to be as befuddling to the uninitiated as Eowyn and Faramir's hand-holding at Aragorn's coronation in Return of the King.

At least Ginny has plenty to do here. Indeed, proportionally speaking, we probably actually see more of her in the movie than in the book, since the film has her palling around with Harry, Hermione and Ron constantly, almost making their trio a quartet. She comes across as fairly quiet but unafraid of asserting herself, as she demonstrates most humorously during the dizzying tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It's fun to see her right there in the thick of things, though it lessens the romantic tension since she and Harry sort of slide into their relationship with each other. Fans of the book may be disappointed to see that the dramatic moment in which they finally put an end to all that painful longing is entirely omitted, though it's replaced with a scene that is more intimate and subtly sensuous. Additionally, Arthur (Mark Williams) and Molly Weasley (Julie Walters) appear briefly, with Molly the centerpiece of the hilarious and beautifully shot scene in which Harry arrives at the Burrow before the start of term. They also are on hand to witness the film's strangest departure from the book. I guess this mid-movie disaster supposed to drive home the fact that, despite the frivolity occurring within school walls, these are dangerous times, but it could mean a major change for the seventh movie. I'll be curious to see how the aftermath is handled.

Among the adults, Maggie Smith has a stronger presence here than she's probably had since the first movie. That's not to say that she's in the movie much; we never see a Transfigurations class, and a couple of McGonagall's best scenes are eliminated. But though Smith is looking even frailer than usual, she never leaves us in any doubt as to this professor's formidability, and with a silent gesture in the film's last moments, she sparks one of the most moving visuals the film series has given us. I continue to be thoroughly pleased with Robbie Coltrane as Hagrid, my favorite character in the Potterverse. Though I would have liked to see some reference to the Trio dropping Hagrid's class, the fallout from that was brief, and the incident had little bearing on the plot, so I can see why it was cut. I was worried that somehow Harry's final attempt to gain the critical memory from Slughorn might be altered to exclude Hagrid, but thankfully, though a few details are different, it remains as much a showcase for the huge-hearted half-giant as before. Though elements of this scene are sad, it offers Coltrane, Radcliffe and Broadbent each the opportunity to give some of the strongest comedic performances in the movie.

I'm still bewildered by the decision to change Professor Flitwick (Warwick Davis) from congenial and elderly to young and cranky, but while he barely appears in the movie at all, he gets a throwaway line that made me laugh harder than almost any other moment in the film. Argus Filch (David Bradley) gets a funny moment or two as he eagerly performs wand searches on students, but sour librarian Madam Pince, who has only appeared in one of the films, doesn't return, so there's no opportunity for hints of romance between them. While Professor Sprout is mentioned, she isn't seen, but the one absence at the teachers' table that really stings is Professor Sybil Trelawney (Emma Thompson). Though she only appears in a few scenes in the book, one provides Harry with some pretty crucial information.

Few characters in the Harry Potter series have inspired as much study and debate as Severus Snape, and the arrival of Rickman in 2001 to color fans' interpretation of the character seems to have increased interest considerably. After a rare glimpse of him in his home environment in a scene that helped turn the question of Snape's loyalties into one of the central issues of the series, we see much less of the surly professor than many would like, but as usual, Rickman commands the audience's attention every time he appears. Snape's deliberate way of speaking, caressing each word as deep-seated emotions struggle to express themselves in his inscrutable face, makes him riveting to watch. I was especially impressed with his performance during his nearly wordless taking of the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy (Helen McCrory). I do find it a shame, however, that we are unable to watch Snape in action in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the post he craved for so long, and that we don't even see much of a reaction from him or anyone else to the announcement that he has attained the position at last. I also find it laughable that we're expected to believe that after he bursts in on the aftermath of a duel between Harry and Draco in which Harry does significantly more damage than he intended, our bespectacled hero is simply able to make a break for it with no repercussions.

Incidentally, this scene would seem a lot more logical if Moaning Myrtle had been there to alert the whole castle to the attack; as it is, Snape's sudden presence seems a little too convenient. Unfortunately, magical beings really get the short end of the stick here. No ghosts, centaurs or mermaids appear or are even referenced, nor are such creatures as Hagrid's brother Grawp, his bowtruckles or his hippogriff Buckbeak (newly christened Witherwings). Most egregious of all, however, is the complete omission of House Elves. Three of them play a fairly significant role in the sixth book, and two are critical to the seventh installment. We haven't seen Dobby since the second movie, and I fear that by the time he turns up in the seventh or eighth, half of the filmgoers who haven't read the books will have forgotten all about him.

While this film boasts a few fresh faces, the most important newcomer by far is Broadbent, and his performance as vain but accomplished Slughorn is nothing short of masterful. There is much humor to be mined from this professor who at times acts almost as silly as Gilderoy Lockhart, the self-absorbed ninny from Chamber of Secrets, and Broadbent wastes none of these opportunities, but he also gives us genuine emotion, whether it's terror at the thought of a long-ago tete-a-tete connecting him with some of Voldemort's most heinous crimes or grief as he tenderly recalls Harry's mother Lily, one of his favorite students. I found one recollection about Lily added for the film especially touching. Whether the scene calls for jocularity or solemnity, Broadbent rises to the occasion, giving the strongest all-around performance of the movie.

I've had my share of complaints about Michael Gambon as Albus Dumbledore, so I was concerned about how he would pull off this movie, in which the headmaster is so central. While I still wish that Richard Harris could have portrayed him, I found myself mostly happy with Dumbledore here. I still think he's too abrupt, though part of that is down to Kloves; in the book, Dumbeldore makes Harry much more aware of what is going on from the beginning. He sends notice that he'll be arriving to pick him up and when to expect him; he doesn't just show up on the street and whisk him away without even warning him they're about to Apparate. I was sorry to see the Dursleys excised from the movie when Dumbledore's visit with them is one of my favorite chapters in the book, and I was annoyed by the gruff behavior of Gambon's Dumbledore. Similarly, I found it pretty irresponsible of him to drop Harry off in the middle of the night in a swamp half a mile from the Burrow when Death Eaters are roaming the countryside freely. However, I loved his interaction with Slughorn, and in his ensuing conversations with Harry he not only toned down the bark but managed a bit of humor. Moreover, Gambon's haggard performance in the cave and polite conversation with Draco are just about perfect.

It is in connection with Dumbledore that we see the 11-year-old Tom Riddle, the boy who will grow up to become Lord Voldemort. We witness his conversation with this creepy child played by Fiennes' nephew, Hero Fiennes-Tiffin, and it says a lot both about Dumbledore's class and compassion and Voldemort's early sociopathy. The film doesn't delve as deeply as the book does, but it shows us a boy who steals and takes grim pleasure in hurting others. I think the scene could have gone on a bit longer, but it's effective as it is. So is Slughorn's memory, in which he uncomfortably discusses Horcruxes with the smarmy teenaged Tom, played by Frank Dillane.

Dumbledore and Harry's Pensieve-peering sessions are greatly reduced in number, with only two memories examined, though as the memories are shown as being stored in marked vials in a cabinet, we are left with the possibility that Harry could peruse other memories at a later date. It almost seems he would have to, for as the movie concludes, we have no reason to think he has any idea what he is looking for, other than the locket, and he doesn't know what that looks like or what its history is. It irked me a bit that Dumbledore made a remark about how a Horcrux could be the most commonplace of objects, almost the opposite of what he said in the book. Essentially, movie Dumbledore has given Harry almost nothing to go on.

It also irritated me that after having it drilled into our heads time after time that you can't Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds, Dumbledore and Harry do both. Granted, Harry questions it, and Dumbledore replies with a quip about how it's good to be him sometimes. But it still didn't cut it for me, especially since it allowed the omission of yet another character, Madam Rosmerta, who owns The Three Broomsticks, a popular Hogsmeade pub. In the book, it is she who tips Draco off that Dumbledore has left the school; in the movie, it seems like just another all-too-convenient coincidence that he happens to decide that this is the night to put his plan into action. There's also no real explanation for why Draco seeks Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower. Additionally, allowing such an instant getaway from the cave to the school truncated the time in which Harry had to help his ailing mentor, to the point that there was no opportunity for Dumbledore to utter my favorite line of the book: "I am not worried, Harry. I am with you." Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, since its sister line from the beginning of the book, in which Dumbledore tells Harry not to worry because "you are with me," is also absent, but it's such an iconic quote I felt sure it would be included.

I worry that my favorite line from Deathly Hallows will suffer a similar fate. It's less iconic, and it hinges on the character of Stan Shunpike, who has not been mentioned in the movies since the third film. Which brings me to another complaint. The Ministry of Magic is scarcely discussed at all in the film. We are never introduced to the new Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, or even told that Cornelius Fudge has lost his job, unless it was in an article in The Daily Prophet that I missed. There's no direct indication that the Ministry is ineffective or corrupt; Order of the Phoenix pointed us in that direction, but it still seems like Kloves is leaving himself an awful lot of ground to cover in the next installment. On the other hand, I think it was probably a wise move to open the film not with a conference between the Minister of Magic and the Prime Minister but with an in-the-moment shot of Bellatrix LeStrange (Helena Bonham Carter) and her crew (which includes vicious werewolf Fenrir Greyback (Dave Legeno), on whom we never really get any background) wreaking havoc on London, shooting across the sky with black smoke in their wake like a band of escapees from Smallville's Phantom Zone. It's a visually arresting opening to a film whose cinematography never failed to wow me. This is Bruno Delbonnel's first time as cinematographer for a Harry Potter movie, and I was most impressed with his efforts.

Potter fans know to expect that significant plot threads and characters will be dropped from the films, so I'm not sure how much I should sigh over the loss of certain elements, but there are two more I feel compelled to mention. While Harry does Apparate in the movie, it is only by grabbing onto Dumbledore's arm. There's nothing to indicate that he has any idea how to do it himself. The ability to Apparate is a significant milestone for a young witch or wizard, similar to the acquisition of a driver's license, and considering how much Harry, Ron and Hermione have to do it in the seventh book, it seems like this movie ought to have given us a glimpse of their lessons. The biggest omission, though, is the battle that members of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix launch against the Death Eaters. After Harry drinks his luck potion, the camera seems to linger for a moment on the tiny bottle, just to assure us he still has a fair amount left. I assumed that this was a set-up for the moment when Harry passes it on to his friends, asking them to patrol the corridors and share the luck amongst themselves, but that moment never comes, and thus all of Harry's protectors are robbed of their chance to demonstrate their valor.

I knew that re-reading the book shortly before I saw the movie would lead to me nit-picking even more than I might have otherwise. I was acutely aware of all the departures, and the purist in me did quite a bit of grumbling. I definitely disagree with some of the directions that were taken. However, while I would venture a guess that only about half the scenes in the film had a direct counterpart in the book, most of the new material felt very true to the characters and often managed to condense many pages worth of conflict into a minute or two. In terms of comedy and teen romance, I think Kloves and Yates absolutely got things right. I laughed aloud many times, both at the dialogue and the expert way in which it was delivered, not to mention the purely nonverbal moments that tickled my funny bone. It's in the more serious part of the movie that I have issues. Though my concerns are enough to make me wonder if the proper groundwork for the last two movies has been set down, when I step back and look at the movie as a whole, especially after removing my purist goggles and acknowledging that no two fans are likely to be in complete agreement as to what should go into an adaptation, I see what may well be the best Potter film yet. May Deathly Hallows be even better.

While You Wait For Deathly Hallows, Enjoy Order of the Phoenix

It's a grand summer for Harry Potter fans. In little more than a week, all the questions that have been percolating for as many as ten years will be answered with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Till then, we have Order of the Phoenix to whet our appetites. Having recently re-read the first six books, I'm especially aware of how much richer they are than any film adaptations could be, but with new director David Yates at the helm, the fifth installment in Rowling's saga manages in two short hours to capture much of the majesty of the book.

Yes, it's ironic that the longest book should become the shortest movie, and I won't pretend I wouldn't have preferred an extra half-hour or so. But the streamlined approach taken by screenwriter Michael Goldenberg moves the action along quickly without sacrificing a great deal of significant content. For instance, the movie was nearly over before it occurred to me that we'd never seen a Quidditch match. While I missed the sense of staff solidarity present in the book, I didn't mind the near-exclusion of classes other than Defense Against the Dark Arts, particularly since other classes are entertainingly represented in a series of cleverly inter-cut scenes demonstrating the extent to which the sweetly villainous Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton) has begun to overtake the school, and I won't argue with the decision once again to transfer Dobby's contributions to Neville (Matthew Lewis).

Other omissions are more glaring. Harry's (Daniel Radcliffe) angst, so prevalent and poisonous throughout much of the fifth book, appears only fleetingly in the film; gone entirely is Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione's (Emma Watson) appointment as Prefects, and thus the conflict arising from that. Rita Skeeter is absent, along with Nearly Headless Nick; while I expected he might be cut, there was one scene between him and Harry I'd especially hoped to see, or at least have alluded to. Other characters, like Ginny (Bonnie Wright) and Percy (Chris Rankin), show up but do so little their inclusion almost seems pointless; I especially feel for Ginny, whose only moment that feels noteworthy is casting a wistful glance at Harry as he stays behind after a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to put in some yuletide snogging with Cho (Katie Leung), the deterioration of whose relationship with Harry is sped up with one character-defining moment that deviates considerably from the book.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This film finds Harry in his fifth year, haunted by visions of Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes). The target of widespread scorn thanks to a relentless smear campaign by The Daily Prophet, he is often frustrated and depressed despite successfully avoiding expulsion for using magic to defend himself from a pair of Dementors. It seems the only person who really understands him these days is his fugitive godfather Sirius (Gary Oldman), who is warm and paternal but tends to regard Harry almost as the reincarnation of his best friend James. But then Hermione proposes a secret organization in which Harry will teach defensive magic to students who believe his story about Voldemort's return, and with a renewed sense of purpose he steps into the role of teacher, even as he fails to apply himself properly in private lessons with Professor Snape (Alan Rickman) intended help him to guard his mind against invasion. He knows it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord will strike again. But when?

Visually, the film is incredibly appealing, and I admire Yates' creativity in covering a lot of ground in a very short time. In several montages accompanied by sprightly music, we see how the different professors react to the ever-smiling Umbridge, who is one of the most truly foul characters ever to grace the screen, and watch as curmudgeonly caretaker Argus Filch (David Bradley) gleefully acts as her henchman. Headlines and moving pictures from The Daily Prophet swirl artfully before the eyes, lingering just long enough to disseminate needed exposition.

This film feels more contemporary than the others, mostly because we seem to spend so much time in the city. The headquarters of the titular group of witches and wizards working to bring down the renewed Voldemort is located in London, as is the Ministry of Magic, so we have several stirring shots of the lit-up buildings whizzing past as Harry and his companions take to the skies. While the urban settings come to life, the Hogwarts grounds seem strangely drab, lifeless as though in the midst of a drought.

There are many feasts for the eyes, as when Number 12 Grimmauld Place suddenly appears in the midst of a mundane series of dwellings or when Filch teeters on ever taller and more precarious ladders to pound the latest Ministry decree into a wall already displaying dozens of them. Umbridge is brimming with eye-catching possibilities, from her grotesquely girlish office walls adorned with mewing kittens to the Dark Arts primers that bear a suspicious resemblance to Dick and Jane readers, as are the climactic scenes in the Department of Mysteries involving wayward spells and shattered glass.

Also impressive is the execution of the secret meetings of Harry's club, during which spells ricochet around the room in bursts of sound and color. The Patronus lesson is especially awe-inspiring. But perhaps the most exhilarating spectacle involves a grand gesture by Fred and George (James and Oliver Phelps); while it comes off a bit differently than in the book, it's an adrenaline rush nonetheless, the culmination of a very satisfying role for the twins in what could be their last film. Earlier, they stir up laughter when they Apparate ridiculously short distances or share their not-yet-perfected wares with unsuspecting students. I was hoping their prominence in this film would be retained, and on this score I was immensely gratified.

The children are all noticeably older; Hermione in particular has blossomed into a mature beauty, and she takes the initiative throughout the movie, particularly when her quick thinking lands Umbridge in a sticky situation, a scene which garnered many hearty guffaws. The tiny glimmer of connection that exists between her and Hagrid's (Robbie Coltrane) half-brother Grawp (Tony Maudsley) in the book is deepened in the film, and in coy moments with Ron she displays a readiness for a change in their relationship. Ron, meanwhile, is spared some of the goofy dialogue that has marred his role in earlier films, and Harry, with his closely cropped hair, looks older than he acts, though he shoulders the burdens thrust upon him remarkably well.

Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton) revels in his inclusion in Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, and Seamus (Devon Murray) is briefly spotlighted as one of the students slow to believe Harry's account of his deadly encounter with Voldemort. I can't decide whether I'm happy with Neville. His affinity for herbology receives a nod as he clutches his mimbulus mimbletonia early in the film, but he never tells us what it is; we see a picture of his parents, and in an intimate scene, he quietly explains to Harry the effect their torture at the hands of Death Eaters has had on him, yet his touching visit with them at St. Mungo's gets left out. Curiously, Neville doesn't seem able to see the Thestrals, whose inclusion is otherwise well handled, particularly in an added scene involving a foal. Even more strangely, when we hear the prophecy, the wording is generalized so that compelling tie between Neville and Harry is lost. While I can overlook other changes, I confess I find this alteration distressing and one of the key reasons the ending pleased me less than the majority of the movie did. My only complaint with dreamy Luna, portrayed with refreshing candor by fledgling actress Evanna Lynch, is that she stops just short of providing further insight into the Veil we see in the Department of Mysteries.

Indeed, anyone who hasn't read the book might not catch the import of that briefly viewed doorway, and that's only one aspect of the showdown at the Ministry and its aftermath that feels glossed over. Three nefarious nemeses offer assault on Harry and his friends. Silky Lucius Malfoy (Jason Isaacs) serves as an antagonistic figurehead, while deranged Bellatrix LeStrange (Helena Bonham-Carter) cackles her way through her few lines. When Voldemort himself finally turns up, squaring off against Dumbledore, the effect is bone-chilling, particularly when he inhabits Harry's body in a bizarre sequence that suggests a temporary triumph belonging more to the teenager than to his headmaster. While I'm happier with Michael Gambon's performance here than in Goblet of Fire, he just doesn't quite seem like Dumbledore to me, and his post-crisis chat with Harry is disappointingly passionless and unenlightening, though the blame for this lies primarily with the screenplay, which leaves too many loose ends and denies Harry the cathartic experience of ransacking his patient headmaster's office.

The rest of the adults are effective if underused: woebegone, thick-lensed Trelawney (Emma Thompson); sibilant, sarcastic Snape; incensed, sympathetic McGonagall (Maggie Smith); brawny, idealistic Hagrid; doting, overprotective Molly (Julie Walters); wide-eyed, encouraging Arthur (Mark Williams); formidable, serene Kingsley (George Harris); wacky, ultra-vigilant Moody (Brendan Gleeson); wise, disheveled Lupin (David Thewlis); disbelieving, bureaucratic Fudge (Robert Hardy); spunky, appearance-changing Tonks (Natalia Tena). The only one who seems a bit off is tiny professor Flitwick (Warwick Davis), who strikes me as far too young and not quite cheerful enough, aside from his much-appreciated note of approval for the antics of Fred and George.

It's inevitable that the paring down of a 900-page book into a two-hour movie will leave any fan bemoaning certain losses, but with the exception of aspects of the ending, I found Order of the Phoenix quite accomplished and much funnier than I expected, given the oppressive trailers. The series has a way of running through nearly as many directors as Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, but it looks like Yates is on board for Half-Blood Prince. If he exercises the same degree of care there and perhaps allows himself a little longer running time, the sixth could well be the finest installment yet. Of the two major Harry Potter events of the summer, the release of the seventh book is by far the more exciting, but whether they catch it before the book to take the edge off the wait or after to ease the pain of the saga ending, The Order of the Phoenix is an impressive cinematic achievement in which Potter fans should rejoice.

I Want a Hippo(griff) for Christmas...

This past December, I became quite taken with the novelty song I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas and quickly adopted it as my own anthem. But after re-watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, I'd like to amend my statement slightly to read "I want a Hippogriff for Christmas!" Actually, why wait till Christmas? I've got a birthday in four days; Hagrid is more than welcome to present me with one on that occasion, in gratitude for my ardent support over the years. Wallowing about in the mud and grinning toothily is all very charming, but I think I'd prefer the exhilaration of a mid-day flight over Erie County. I promise I wouldn't pull out any feathers...

The storyline involving Buckbeak the Hippogriff may be secondary to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - otherwise it would be something like Harry Potter and the Trial of Buckbeak - but it certainly captures my imagination. The scene of Harry clinging to the fiercely proud creature's neck as he soars over all that glorious scenery until he can no longer contain himself and indulges in a blatant "I'm king of the world!" moment... breath-taking. John Williams' score perfectly captures the joy of flight, while the cinematography aptly demonstrates what a beauteous location Hogwarts is in.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Prisoner of Azkaban is one of my favorites of the Harry Potter books because it reveals so much about Harry's (Daniel Radcliffe) past in such surprising ways and because of Hagrid's (Robbie Coltrane) new role as Care of Magical Creatures professor. Before we get into any of that, we must get past a couple of unnerving but amusing incidents. First, there's Harry's temper-induced inflation of his uncle Vernon's (Richard Griffiths) dreadful sister Marge (Pam Ferris), who coddles Dudley (Harry Melling) and her mean-spirited little dog but spews venom at Harry and viciously insults his parents. Then, following his decision to leave the Dursleys no matter what the cost, he hops aboard the Knight Bus at an invitation from gangly conductor Stan Shunpike (Lee Ingleby) for one of the most dizzying sequences in the movie, with the bus zooming along, contracting when needed, coming to sudden stops for little old ladies crossing the street, all with the smart-alecky commentary of a Jamaican-sounding shrunken head (Lenny Henry) dangling near the windshield.

It is on this whirlwind journey that Harry first hears the name Sirius Black (Gary Oldman), which will come to haunt him throughout the year as he learns that this very dangerous wizard has escaped from Azkaban, where he was locked up for murder, specifically for the purpose of doing away with Harry, who stands in the way of Voldemort returning to power. Later, Harry is horrified to overhear that Sirius was a close friend of his parents and that his betrayal was responsible for their death. Most of the adults in Harry's life know he is in grave danger, but few divulge that information to Harry. Rather, they hope that the soul-sucking, wraith-like Dementors will be enough to keep Sirius far away from Hogwarts. But they didn't stop him before...

The Dementors, loathsome entities that feed on happiness and joy, leaving nothing but emptiness and despair, cast a shadow over the whole campus, and no one feels their effects more acutely than Harry. Remus Lupin (David Thewlis), the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - undoubtedly the most ethical and competent of the six we've seen so far - tells Harry that this is because he has much more darkness in his past than most of his classmates could imagine, and he sets about to teach Harry how to guard himself against their attacks by conjuring a Patronus, a shield formed out of his most powerfully exquisite memories.

Meanwhile, Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) have two new classes to reckon with. Care of Magical Creatures is a mixed bag. Hagrid is the professor, so they feel right at home there, but their textbook is carnivorous and they're all a bit nervous when they contemplate what dangerous beasts Hagrid may acquaint them with. After an initially magnificent lesson with the Hippogriff goes horribly awry thanks to Malfoy's (Tom Felton) arrogant, disobedient antics, Buckbeak receives a death sentence. In the book, this part of the story is much more involved, as Hermione, already exhausted from a barely manageable course load, runs herself ragged trying to put together a compelling defense for Buckbeak while Hagrid resigns himself to only working with the most benign of beasts in his class for the remainder of the year. Still, the thrilling climax to this side-plot is preserved most satisfactorily.

The second class, Divination, is mostly played for laughs, with zany, over-the-top quack Sybil Trelawney (Emma Thompson) prognosticating doom and gloom and sympathetically informing Hermione that she does not have the gift. Thompson really makes the most of this role, milking it for every bit of comedic potential it's worth, so that while she rarely has anything important to do, she makes a big impression. Not as big, though, as low-key Thewlis, whose Lupin is a much-appreciated mentor for Harry from the time he distributes chocolate as a salve for Harry's first encounter with the Dementors.

Also new in this installment is Hogsmeade, the wizarding village where third-years are able to go for occasional field trips. Everyone except Harry, that is, since his uncle wasn't about to sign the required permission form (a formality similar to Muggle educational institutions that I find amusing) after the incident with dear old Aunt Marge. But Harry's a resourceful lad, so it's no great surprise that he finds his own way there, thanks to his ever-handy invisibility cloak and an unexpected gift from Fred and George Weasley (James and Oliver Phelps) that proves especially useful later on. It's a treat to see Hogsmeade, especially Honeydukes, though I must say I was disappointed at the lack of butterbeer...

The last quarter or so of this movie contains some of the most startling revelations of the series. The execution of Harry and Hermione's pivotal task is expertly done; the circumstances remain rather dubious, as must always be the case when one messes about with the space-time continuum, but it's handled skillfully enough that suspension of disbelief remains possible.

This third film is markedly different from the rest, with a new director (Alfonso Cuaron), whose contributions seems to include a desire to boost the success of the Hogwarts Tourism Bureau. Granted, we're treated to several dreary shots of a rain-drenched castle, but when the weather lets up, it's hard to imagine a school with more beautiful grounds than Hogwarts. The inside of the castle is great as well, with the paintings raising more of a ruckus than usual, especially as they cantankerously complain that certain wizards' illuminated wands are impeding their beauty sleep. I also found the choir of toad-toting students to be an inspired addition.

Harry and his friends are growing up, as are Radcliffe, Grint and Watson. Hermione really comes into her own here, especially toward the end of the film, while Ron remains relegated mostly to making inane off-hand remarks, most noticeably numerous inquiries as to where Hermione came from, since she seems to pop up mysteriously in many of their classes throughout the year. Because of the Buckbeak angle, Hagrid gets decent screen time, and we get a couple of key sequences involving Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge (Robert Hardy). We have to adjust to a new Dumbledore, and while I don't like Michael Gambon nearly as much in the role as Richard Harris, I think his performance here is highly preferable to the one he gave in Goblet of Fire. Maybe he saw this as a transition period before he turned Dumbledore into a stern and snarling taskmaster; I wish he would've stuck closer to his work in this film, in which he managed to maintain at least some of the old gentleness and humor.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is a fantastical spectacle, its eye-catching visuals thoroughly impressive except, perhaps, when the werewolf comes into the picture; maybe it's just me, but I found him to be one strange-looking creature. But Buckbeak made up for any disappointment with canine characters, and the adaptation of the plot was handled adroitly, so I tip my hat to Cuaron and company. Now, Hagrid... About that Hippogriff...

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Aside from a distractingly abrasive performance from Michael Gambon as Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is an excellent movie, with Brendan Gleeson and Ralph Fiennes compelling additions to the cast.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Of all the movies in the series, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is the one I most associate with Halloween.  Maybe because of all the spiders.  It's also perhaps the funniest, thanks in large part to Kenneth Branagh, and the only movie so far whose ending I actually prefer to the book's.

Muggles Muddle Magical Masterpiece in First Harry Potter Movie

Back in the fall of 2001, once I had recovered enough from 9/11 to think about other things again, my mind was occupied largely with one topic: the upcoming first installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, as filmed by Peter Jackson. I had to wait until December for it, and as it turned out the holiday season was so busy that I didn’t see it until early January. But something else came along to stave off my appetite for that long-awaited adaptation. That something was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Of course, I’d only first met the bespectacled boy with the ordinary name and extraordinary fate a few years earlier; I didn’t have the history with him that I had with steadfast Sam Gamgee or industrious Bilbo Baggins. But the movie was still cause for excitement. Did it live up to its promises? I’m still trying to decide. I don’t have as much invested in Rowling as in Tolkien, but her vision is still more than worthy of being translated into high-quality cinema. The film was certainly a commercial success, but in comparison with Fellowship of the Ring, I would say that it falls considerably short.

The movie begins outside the home of the Dursleys, where a very special delivery is about to arrive. In the space of a few moments, we meet the infant Harry and three magical folk who will eventually play a large role in his life. For the time being, however, he is entrusted to the care of his thoroughly unpleasant relatives: overbearing Uncle Vernon (Richard Griffiths), sniveling Aunt Petunia (Fiona Shaw) and their spoiled son Dudley (Harry Melling). This is where we find Harry (Daneil Radcliffe) ten years later, cowering in a closet and waiting on his reluctant caregivers like a modern-day version of Cinderella. But in this case, it is not an invitation to a ball that has the mistreated youth in a tizzy. It’s an invitation to a school, an invitation to an entirely different way of life. But the Dursleys are even more unwilling to facilitate those dreams than that notorious stepmother. This introductory segment is handled well, though there’s an odd quality to the cinematography that I can’t pin down. I guess it reminds me of the Brit-coms I watch on PBS now and again; something about it just doesn’t seem quite movie-like. Still, we get just as much of the Dursleys as we need, including the beautifully done assault upon the house by a fleet of Hogwarts owls. Even better is the eventual appearance of Hagrid (Robbie Coltrane), my favorite character. He makes a big impression at once, and he soon earns Harry’s trust and our affection. Harry’s scenes with Hagrid before he heads off for the Hogwarts Express are perhaps my favorite in the film.

The trouble is, from that point on, everything has a rushed, glossed-over quality to it. We meet Mrs. Weasley (Julie Walters) and her clan, but she only has a couple lines of dialogue in which to establish herself as a significant maternal presence in Harry’s life. Ginny (Bonnie Wright), meanwhile, seems supremely superfluous, standing shyly next to her mother and uttering a mere two words: "Good luck." If that’s all they were going to give her to do, why’d they bother casting her at all? Might as well have just waited until the next movie. Percy (Chris Rankin) gets to strut around campus looking superior and even bark out a couple orders, but Fred and George (James and Oliver Phelps) are tragically underused. They barely fare better than Ginny, which is a darn shame given their immense potential for comic relief. Ron (Rupert Grint) does get a lot of screen time in, of course, and he’s adorable but he’s also slightly pointless most of the time. His dialogue is the worst in the movie; he’s always making useless asides and exclamations as random and irritating as those uttered by Sunny in the film Series of Unfortunate Events. His character is not satisfactorily developed.

Hermione Granger (Emma Watson) at least serves a more practical purpose in the film. She’s a marvelous expository tool; if you ever want to explain something quickly, just have Hermione pipe up and say she’s read something about it. Even at this early stage of the game, there’s an interesting tension shaping up between her and Ron that will become amplified in later installments. Watson plays Hermione as a snotty know-it-all but softens up her performance by the end. She’s probably the character who undergoes the most noticeable change in personality. Several other students stand out in some way, among them disaster-prone Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis); Dean Thomas (Alfred Enoch), practically the only dark face among a sea of pasty Brits; loud-mouth Quidditch announcer Lee Jordan (Luke Youngblood); and Irish lad Seamus Finnegan (Devon Murray), whose marble-mouthed manner of speaking annoys me immensely. By far the most notable student, however, is Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton), a sneering, self-important purebred Slytherin who quickly establishes himself as Harry’s pint-sized nemesis. Felton certainly has that obnoxiousness down to a tea, also revealing Malfoy’s cowardice in the scene where they must venture out into the Forbidden Forest.

While many of the child actors have no prior acting experience, the bulk of the adult cast consists of screen legends from the British Isles. There’s so much talent amassed here that it’s a great pity the adults are not used more. Richard Harris puts in an appearance as quirky headmaster Albus Dumbledore, but the only indication of his wit that remains is his disappointing attempt at finding a satisfactory jelly bean. It seems to me that several of his funniest lines from the book could have made it into the film; as it is, he comes across as something between mournful and simply dull. What a shame that in two of his final movies, Harris was given so little to do. Maggie Smith’s Minerva McGonagall is only slightly less strict than her mother superior in Sister Act. She’s a professor to be feared, but she is a reasonable woman and a valuable ally to have. Incidentally, Smith has a distinct Scottish brogue here, which helps this character to stand out from other authoritarian roles she’s assumed. We see more of her and Hagrid than we do of Dumbledore, but it’s still less than I would like.

By far the most intriguing character is Severus Snape (Alan Rickman), who remains awash in ambiguity even five books later. This loathed teacher gives Harry a concrete enemy far more threatening than Malfoy, and though his presence is a bit of a red herring, we’re not entirely sure by the end of the film that Harry’s suspicions were misplaced. Rickman is one of my favorite actors, so I’m not surprised he managed to make the most of his moments on the screen. Snape is silkily sinister, the sort of teacher every student dreads, and Rickman gives him such a commanding presence that I spend most of the movie in anticipation of his scenes, much as I do with Agent Smith in The Matrix. The guy is good.

What isn’t good is the fact that the adaptation tries so hard to be faithful to the letter of the book that it winds up being unfaithful to the spirit. A whole lot of stuff happens, and it’s pretty close to the text, but we don’t really know why it’s going on, nor do we care as much as we should. The pivotal background information and context is glossed over, leaving those unfamiliar with the books confused. Moreover, all this action leaves little room for character development, so none of the characters are realized as fully as they should be. There’s room for that in the sequels, of course, but if I had come into the film unfamiliar with the characters I would feel little of the sense of closeness with them at the conclusion that I felt upon finishing the first book. I don’t agree with all the decisions Peter Jackson made in his adaptation of Tolkien’s masterpiece, but in order to translate a book of that magnitude to the screen, he rightly realized that significant alterations had to be made. Screenplay writer Steven Kloves should have had that degree of faith in himself rather than fearing the wrath of devoted fans for not sticking strictly to the book.

The look of the film is magnificent once we step out of the commonplace world of Muggles and into the wizarding community. The noble educational institution of Hogwarts is especially impressive with its gothic archways, shifting staircases and walls full of paintings whose subjects wander about and talk freely amongst themselves. Some of the effects, however, come across as silly rather than splendid. The whole encounter with the troll in the girls’ bathroom, for instance, is a bit phony-looking, and the gross-out conclusion of the skirmish is accentuated so as to delight younger audience members. I can’t complain about the score, provided by veteran composer John Williams of Star Wars fame. Word has it that Peter Jackson wanted Williams to do the music for Lord of the Rings but that the composer was already committed to this project. I suspect that was for the best on all accounts, as I can’t imagine a better LotR score than Howard Shore’s or a better Harry Potter score than Williams’. It strikes just the right balance between eerie and fanciful, capturing the wonder and terror inherent in Harry’s strange new world.

All in all, it’s a good start, but it needs work. I guess you can think of this film as a practice run for the Harry Potter adaptation team. The biggest problem is with the screenplay, and that’s the easiest area in which to make changes. So far, it seems the second and third films have done a better job with characterization, but there’s still plenty of room for improvement. Let’s hope Goblet of Fire is the best yet!

Jane Austen Plus Emma Thompson Equals Moviemaking Brilliance

Generally, when I see a movie based on a book which I have read, I prepare myself for disappointment. It is pretty hard to pull off a film adaptation that does true justice to a great book. Sense and Sensibility does just that. I watched a portion of this film in my Canon and Its Critics class, headed by the venerable Dr. Morris. This was maybe a month and a half into the semester, my first with him as a professor, but he had quickly made his way onto my list of favorite educators. So his ecstasy over Emma Thompson and unbounded admiration for Alan Rickman’s Colonel Brandon may have influenced me. But I was impressed enough that I later rented the film and fell in love with it. Along with The Green Mile (in which case I saw the movie before reading the book), this is probably the best book-to-film adaptation I have seen.

The cast is superb, with the afore-mentioned Thompson taking the role of Elinor, the patient, practical eldest Dashwood sister. Kate Winslet portrays Marianne, Elinor’s over-emotional, romantic younger sister. (As Dr. Morris filled us in on what we would be missing before he started the movie towards the end, he said, “And then there’s this great scene where Marianne and Willoughby are standing on the bow of this ship, and she throws out her arms, and… wasn’t in the book, though.”) The dynamic between these two sisters is the heart of the film. They are diametrically opposed, each exhibiting one end of the personality spectrum. Elinor is the heroine of the film, always a perfect model of poise and manners, selfless to the point of bursting (which she eventually does in one of the film’s best scenes). Marianne is likable enough, but she is rather flighty and self-centered and possesses some very impractical ideas about romance. In the end, both girls learn from one another, moving just a bit towards the middle of the spectrum.

Hugh Grant is utterly adorable as the bumbling Edward Ferrars, the honorable gentleman who earns Elinor’s affection at the beginning of the film. He doesn’t get much air time in the film, mainly the very beginning and end, but his appearances are both riotously comical and extraordinarily tender. I’ve seen Hugh Grant in many movies, but this performance is my hands-down favorite. I’ve already noted Dr. Morris’ opinion of Rickman’s performance, and I concur. But then Rickman has blown me away in everything I’ve seen him in. Could there possibly be a more perfect Severus Snape? His Colonel Brandon is formal, reserved, honor-bound. Shrouded in melancholy, he is a tender man bewitched by Marianne. Best line: Towards the end of the film, he paces in agitation as Marianne lies sick in bed upstairs. Upon Elinor’s entrance, he pleads, “Give me an occupation or I shall run mad!” Perfect. Greg Wise turns in a good performance as the tall, dark and handsome Willoughby, to whom Marianne’s affections belong for the bulk of the film.

More minor characters shine in their respective roles. This is a comedy, and the smaller roles tend to accentuate that. Harriet Walter is deliciously conniving as the Dashwoods’ unsympathetic sister-in-law, Fanny. Another of the film’s great scenes involves Fanny reacting to a secret told to her by Lucy Steele (Imogen Stubbs), a pseudo-friend to Elinor. Robert Hardy and Elizabeth Spriggs are amusing in their roles as the grandparently Sir John Middleton and Mrs. Jennings. In addition to being affectionate, they also have a nose for gossip, which Marianne particularly resents. Imelda Staunton and Hugh Laurie sparkle as the hilariously mismatched Mr. and Mrs. Palmer. Think Farmer Hoggett and his wife, Babe. She is a cheerful chatterbox, he a silent man with an air about him that telegraphs the fact that he finds his wife exceedingly silly. Much of the humor between these two is nonverbal, but chuckles should follow whenever these two appear. Mr. Palmer regards his wife’s frivolity with apparent indifference, and while one wonders how they ever got together, they seem pretty content with their life together. Mr. Palmer also shows himself to be gentlemanly and compassionate on several occasions.

Of all the roles here, the one that really stepped this movie up a notch for me was Margaret Dashwood (Emile Francois). In the book, this poor unfortunate third Dashwood sister is rendered practically a non-entity. She certainly doesn’t show up in the book much, and when she does she doesn’t contribute much or boast much of a personality. What’s there to say about Margaret in the book? Not much. But the film, which Thompson wrote, gives Margaret a distinct personality and an important place in the affairs of the main characters. She is a tomboy who is fascinated by geography and wants to travel the high seas as the captain of a pirate ship. This spunky gal brings Elinor and Edward together for the first time, as the visiting gentleman locates her hiding under a dresser, conceals her from Fanny and cleverly draws her out later. The two become fast friends, and Edward’s kindness to her sister wins Elinor over.

I am reminded of the book The Princess Bride with this film because the book claims to be the “good parts version” of a classic written long ago. Periodically, the author fills the reader in on all the boring stuff that he skipped. This movie does that masterfully. I loved Sense and Sensibility, but I think it was a lot wordier than it needed to be. This film takes the heart of the book, pruning and fleshing out to produce an adaptation that in some ways exceeds the novel.

In addition to Margaret, the movie filled another hole that the book left me. In this case, it was the ending. The main events of the film lead up to a certain point in the novel, but when that point is reached, it gets essentially skimmed over and we don’t get to see the glorious moment when everything comes together. In the film, this scene is accomplished with comical brilliance and heart. It’s a perfect moment worthy of the build-up of tension that precedes it.

Not everyone will love this movie. It’s set in the 1800s in England, and that means a lot of fancy talk in British accents. My grandma complained that everyone sounded the same, while my dad and brother just found the film boring. If you can get into the proper mode, however, the movie is both hilarious and touching. What’s more, its setting is so prim and proper that I can’t think of much of anything that would offend someone in this PG-rated film. It’s good clean literary fun, and it’s brilliant. Nicely done, Emma Thompson.