Empty Goblet, Sputtering Fire

I want to begin this review by saying that I did read the book before I watched the movie, but my opinion of the book will be part of my review of the next book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which I have not yet finished.

At first glance, Mike Newell’s Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire seems ideal, with its action scenes and daring escapes. The third director to lead Warner Brothers’ prolonged Potter project, Newell definitely does take a different tack from his predecessors, Chris Columbus and Alfonzo Cuaron. Of them all, I’d say that Newell’s use of CGI and computer generated/processed environments Is by far the most effective. The dragon Harry battles is as real as Dan Radcliffe himself; the underwater test is chillingly realistic. Most scenes left me holding my breath, it all seemed so real.

But once I’d muscled my way past the impressive action sequences and computer work, I found an emptiness that’s hard to ignore. The characters did lots of things, but I kept feeling like nothing had really happened. And then I noticed the things missing which had been there in Prisoner of Azkaban. True, Harry fought a Hungarian Horntail for ten minutes of breathtaking peril - but his relationships with Ron and Hermione are at a complete standstill the whole film. I was shocked to find that where Columbus wished to draw in fans of the book with an obsessive reproduction, and Cuaron wished to entice the viewer with beauty and quality, Newell didn’t really seem to have much of a vision at all. Beneath the glamorous exterior, Goblet of Fire lacked any movement of character or realistic emotions.

And since there was nothing in the script or cinematography to act as makeup, the strengths or (more often) weaknesses of the actors really showed through. For the most part, Daniel Radcliffe relapsed into his former ineptitude for the role. I know Harry Potter is a tough role to play, but I don’t think it’s too much to ask that he be a strong center for the tale. Radcliffe’s only shining moment was at the very end, when Harry brings Cedric’s body back. Here, I felt, he wasn’t simply trying to act: he was acting.

On the other hand, Rupert Grint discovered too late that his role as comedic relief could not last forever. He floundered around during the whole film, desperately searching for something to hold onto. Everything he said and did felt like chalk on a chalkboard; he made loath Ron, who I rather like in the books. The eery Robert Pattinson (I don’t care what anyone says, the man is just weird looking) completely botched the likable character of Cedric Diggory. Only Emma Watson (from whom I would at this point expect nothing less) managed to make something decent of her character.

There were two quality performances in the film: those of Brendan Gleeson as Mad-Eye Moody and Ralph Fiennes as Lord Voldemort. Gleeson was brilliant as the slightly mad Auror, or Dark Wizard catcher. Fiennes, unsurprisingly, performed magnificently - I applaud Newell for his selection. But let me ask this: what happens when your villain can outstrip your hero in acting? What effect does that have on the audience?

Now, I don’t want to be unjust. It’s not that The Goblet of Fire wasn’t faithful; Newell and Kloves did seem to be trying to remain close to the book. AndThe Goblet of Fire most definitely is NOT easy to adapt. Not only is it twice the size of the first three novels, but it also is right in the middle of the series and so, unfortunately, has a somewhat dragging plotline. Sorting through the incredibly extended plot must have been difficult, and I give them credit for what they did manage to get.

In short, Newell’s film was filled with action, but no movement. Beauty was abandoned for CGI; genuine emotions and relationships were lost in a tidal wave of stilted ones. With few exceptions, the actors delivered lines which they did not think and performed actions they did not feel. The result was actually similar to that of the first two films, leaving me vexed and with a less than savory taste in my mouth. Let us hope David Yates followed in the footsteps of Alfonzo Cuaron, not Columbus or Newell, in his Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Columbus vs. Cuaron - Part 2: Cuaron's Prisoner of Azkaban

The third film in the Harry Potter series is Alfonso Cuaron's Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and its approach to the world of wizards on screen couldn't be more different than Chris Columbus's. I won't hesitate to say right off the bat that I thought Cuaron did a vastly better job. He really cared how the story came across as a movie, and how it was best to tell it in a movie. He made no scruples in maximizing the effect of the greatest strengths of his story, characters, and actors. In short, his approach was that of a true filmmaker.

Cuaron is the director of the popular film A Little Princess and, more importantly for my first point, the director/writer of Children of Men. He is a master of cinematography; so before reading further, I want you to picture that movie in your head. It is dominated by a greyish film over everything, expressing the grimness in the souls of men. 

This same technique was the first thing I noticed when watching Prisoner of Azkaban; it was, in fact, so unexpected that it took me at least 45 minutes to get used to. The picture was different from the previous films; before, the colors at the Dursleys's home were ordinary bright colors, but in this film, everything at their house took on a greyish monotone. Even in the wizarding world many colors are bland, having the effect that all images are darkened by several notches - only the really bright colors at Hogwarts were bright at all. Then I realized what was going on: the colors were dull at the Dursleys and when life is most dreary or bad, but when Harry's life is at its best - when he's talking to Professor Lupin or doing something fun with Ron and Hermione - the colors are soft and alluring, or bright and excited, whichever fits best.

Cuaron then ultilized another strength: the sheer, vast beauty of the Scottish and British countryside. From the mountains and lake Harry flies over on Buckbeak to the flowers that grow nearby on his walks with Professor Lupin, the shots of the beauty which can only be found at Hogwarts are breathtaking. It was obviously given a lot of thought. Not only does Cuaron show the beauty around, but he takes moments to dwell on it. And those moments, however fleeting, feed the viewers' souls. In none of the previous films were the courtyard of Hogwarts and the surrounding buildings built specifically to enchant the viewers - they were not a thought in and of themselves, merely a skeleton for the actors to work in.

But those moments of dwelling on beauty aren't limited to the countryside and architecture. Cuaron, and, at his order, Kloves, incorporate little moments which, although not strictly necessary, enrich the overall tone of the film, and also give the viewer a short time to breath. Despite the time limitations, we are shown a simple happy scene of Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus hanging out and laughing in their dormitory. True, we don't need to see such a seemingly "pointless" scene, but it does shape our experience more than we realize. Viewers feel the same joy and relaxation that Harry himself feels, preparing them to better face the fearsome dementors. In another such scene, Ron wakes, whimpering about a dream. Harry, still awake, responds like any brother should. And so viewers' hearts are given a balm, seeing such a scene of close friendship. These contrast greatly to the Chamber of Secrets where viewers end up on a none-stop roller coaster of action.

Finally, Cuaron and Kloves skillfully work the screenplay so that each actors' ability is found in exactly the right amount and at exactly the right time. Rupert Grint, who is mostly comedic relief in the films at this point, is funny, but not overused. On the other hand, Cuaron gives the last hour almost exclusively to Emma Watson and Daniel Radcliffe, whose portrayal of Harry and Hermione's friendship has never been better and was, in my opinion, delightful. They work together like a brother and sister, and their cooperation is in many ways the central relationship of the film. And the side characters have never been more at their British best. Emma Thompson's Sybil Trelawny is was positively hilarious, and David Thewlis played a magnificent Remus Lupin. Gary Oldman more than fulfilled his role as Sirius Black, and legend Robert Hardy excels as the incompetent Ministry of Magic Minister. True, Michael Gambon doesn't quite capture Dumbledore, but that would be an extremely hard thing to do.

One more short note: John Williams really modified his approach to the soundtrack for the better. Instead of the signature, but rather mediocre, basic theme, Williams builds new sound for the series that was not only for Harry Potter - it was beautiful in itself. For the best example, listen to this.

So, in short, I found Alfonso Cuaron's Prisoner of Azkaban far more satisfying than the previous two films by Chris Columbus. He wasn't simply trying to make money off of book fans - he wanted to make something that had its own merit. I would argue that it does, and that at least of the first three, it is by far the best.

Columbus vs. Cuaron - Part 1: Columbus's Chamber of Secrets

In the film Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, director Chris Columbus returns for a second time and, I am tempted to say, another chance. Though his first film was very popular, I found it less than satisfying. It was faithful to the book in almost every detail, and yet somehow fell short. So, when watching the Chamber of Secrets, my biggest question was whether it would improve on its predecessor.

Well, the short answer is, yes. Where the Sorcerer's Stone dragged, the Chamber of Secrets did not. It was action packed, and every minute was so filled with things busying here and there that my mind almost had trouble keeping up. My attention didn't wander, unlike with Columbus's first film where I thought, "Come on, this is getting boring. Can the plot begin to move at the pace it does in the book?" However, I still wasn't quite satisfied with how the story was told. It wasn't boring, but it wasn't captivating either. It didn't grab you up the same way the book did. To put it another way, Columbus only seemed to care if the details of the film were faithful to the details of the book. But whether the movie itself was high quality wasn't really a priority. It wasn't terrible or anything - it just lacked the Muse you find in the Lord of the Rings.

The acting was good, as can only be expected from the best Britain has to offer. Richard Harris's Dumbledore is still good, though I must say he doesn't quite convey the rigor of Rowling's character. Kenneth Branagh was superb, as I didn't like him one bit (a difficult thing to accomplish). His portrayal of the despicable Gilderoy Lockharet was, well, brilliantly despicable. Bonnie Wright does what she can with the little screen time she has for Ginny Weasley (And for those who have read my review of Rowling's novel, Ginny's crush is basically non-existent - she doesn't even have enough screen time to send him the Valentine). 

For the trio of friends, this one was rough. Not really as regards the acting; in fact, Radcliffe's performance was quite convincing this time round. I don't know what he did, but it made a significant difference. The problem was really just with the various sizes they went through. The poor young actors were obviously going through puberty, so at the beginning we have a sizable Ron and a taller Harry matched against a significantly shorter Hermione. As as to Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton), he simply towers over the other students. In addition, poor Rupert Grint's voice is changing in at least several scenes of the film; it was just plain comical hearing Ron's voice squeak around his lines. But, all things considered, they did a very good job within their limitations.

So, to conclude, Columbus has improved, but not enough for my liking. Not much thought for the cinematography and music was given, and only a little more was given to how the story told by the movie, not the book, worked. Columbus's work was decent, but unfortunately not something I'd particularly recommend to someone else to watch.

Harry Potter's Film Debut

How can a movie based on a book stand on its own two feet? Is it even possible for a movie to be faithful to the book and yet its own work of art?

These questions have plagued readers, movie watchers, and screenwriters ever since the art of filmmaking came into being. Why, we wonder, does Mary Poppins work but Inkheart fall flat? What makes The Two Towers an excellent adaption and The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian a huge failure? One could even go as far as saying that this is one of the most important, unresolved issues in Hollywood today. Book after book is adapted to the screen, and yet no clear answer seems to have risen to the top. Directors and screenwriters continue to glance indecisively between safety and originality.

In his film version of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chris Columbus decides to take the safe route. Instead of deviating from the plot, he sticks to it as closely as a wizard to his wand. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen a big screen adaption of a book remain this faithful to its originator. Before last night, I hadn't even thought it possible; now, my uncertainty is gone. Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the audience, it is possible to be faithful to the original, despite what many Hollywood screenwriters protest.

And yet, despite its faithfulness to Rowling's ingenious tale, the film still feels a little flat. In their fear of alienating Harry Potter fans, Columbus and Kloves stood a little too near the original story. Somehow, what was so delightful in the written word didn't translate very well into film format. Don't get wrong, the film did have some strengths I'll explain in a minute; I'll also explain at the very end of the review why the movie was such a spectacular financial success. It's merely that for the well-developed palate, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone will frequently drag a little.

But Harry Potter did have, shall we say, a few Golden Snitches in some of its actors. Richard Harris plays a very good Dumbledore and Maggie Smith chills the bones and warms the heart as Professor MacGonagall. One can only imagine the pleasure they must have had from playing these roles. Alan Rickman, however, takes an honorable mention for his portrayal of Severus Snape. Only an actor as good as he could play Colonel Brandon, the ultimate hero, and then Severus Snape, the torn wizard.

The three main children, Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson, worked incredibly well together; their friendship has a genuine flavor. Considering that all three were at the beginning of their acting careers, you can tell that they must have been working through this once-in-a-lifetime situation together. Radcliffe plays a good Harry, though I must say he was easily overshadowed by more stellar acting. Grint did exactly what he was supposed to: be the comedic relief for most scenes.

But Emma Watson simply steals the show. Where others simply fill their roles, Watson embodies hers and gives an already lively character even greater life and color. Her portrayal of Hermione Granger was by far the best performance in the film. Perhaps part of my admiration is that Hermione is probably, hands down, the hardest little girl character to portray I've ever come across. The screaming teenager with a crush, the little ballet student, the hurt younger sister, the sassy and disrespectful daddy's girl: these are the typical roles for little girls in Hollywood these days, a fact which merely reflects the views of our culture. But Hermione is different - in many ways, she reminds me of my own mother. Incredibly intelligent, sassy when appropriate but perfectly capable of being serious and respectful, and above all humble about her failings. Such a role is very hard to make admirable to today's little girl, but Watson comes through with flying colors.

But why was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone so very popular? Because it's exactly the sort of film that appeals to children between the ages of 9-12.

Deep down, every child wants a good story and great adventure with out the stupid humor and offensive material we're supposed to believe appeals to them. This much I'll say, Harry Potter does provide this. Unlike the newer Parent Trap, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone maintained a surprising level of innocence. And I believe it was that innocence, that maintenance of good on one side, bad on the other, that made Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone the eighth grossing film of all time.