Recap Reviews: Harry Potter 1-4

Over the past two weeks, I’ve been preparing for the release of “HP7b,” as I like to call it, by rewatching, usually in bits and pieces while eating or when I have fifteen or twenty minutes free, the first seven films. An early thought to re-read books 6 and 7 (I couldn’t bear to have to re-read book 5) went by the wayside quickly; I don’t have that kind of time this summer. But before now I haven’t watched any of the films more than once, apart from numbers 3 and 6, which are my favorites. So I thought a brief recap of my thoughts on rewatching them might not go amiss before seeing the last film and writing a review of it.


1. the Sorcerer’s Stone, November 2001. I remember being impressed, at the time, that they’d gotten much of Rowling’s wizarding world right, but now that feels overshadowed by how clunky the story is. Chris Columbus’ direction is quite scattered; here he’s making a kids’ adventure movie, here it’s an English boarding-school film, there it’s an excuse to show cool special effects or the weird but lavish costume and set design. Richard Harris as Dumbledore was a good choice for the early films; sadly, he passed away after the second, and we’ll never see him portray a much more, well, active Dumbledore, but I daresay he would’ve done well. I think somewhere in a recent interview with Rupert Grint (Ron) I remember him saying something like for the first couple films he just said his lines and there wasn’t much more to it than that. It’s true – the three kids are uniformly promising actors, but just too young to really carry their characters all that effectively. Maybe that’s why Columbus had to shift tone so often.

The writing is mostly all right, but nothing special. In hindsight, there’s a little too much at the start with the Dursleys, a lot too much with setting up and wandering around Hogwarts. In fact, both of Columbus’s movies give Hogwarts, just the place itself apart from anything in the plots, too much screen time: lingering shots and wide-angles that are rather bland. Later directors capture the “old pile” much better and more efficiently. Alan Rickman was less solid as Snape than I remembered; Robbie Coltrane as Hagrid was more. Best scenes: Hagrid and Harry in Diagon Alley is some of the more natural exposition/character development in the movie. The troll in the bathroom. The Quidditch scenes are also decent, or at least better than I remembered. The final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort/Quirrell is actually quite good, if a little light on logic. Best line: Dumbledore, before the assembled student body: “Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death.”


2. the Chamber of Secrets, November 2002. A year can make a definite difference. The main thing that’s better about Chamber of Secrets is that most everyone (director, writer, cast, crew) have done this once already, and the new additions (such as Kenneth Branagh as Gilderoy Lockhart, Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy, and Mark Williams as Aurthur Weasley) fit seamlessly into the cast. Then, of course, there’s Dobby, who’s entirely annoying. Rowling’s fitting of the house-elves into the world she’s created makes a degree of sense, but only a degree. Dobby is sadly crucial to the stories, but thankfully the filmmakers have uniformly lessened (e.g. Kreacher) or removed (most of book/film 5) any other subplots involving them. We see the Slytherin common room for the first time, which is nicely understated with cold, smooth stone furnishings which are reprised in more fantastical ways in the Chamber of Secrets itself. Steve Kloves is more confident in his adaptation and the writing contains some real dialogue instead of throwaway jokes or bursts of exposition like most of the first movie. Once again the Quidditch scenes, now with Draco as the Slytherin seeker, hold up better than I remembered. In fact, the dynamic between Draco and Harry is nicely developed, much better than in the previous film, and their dueling scene is well shot and acted.

There’s still a goodly number of clumsy moments and scenes: Harry being discovered at scenes of the various petrifications (once seemingly by half the school, who all just happened to be wandering through that hall at that moment); most of the scenes with Moaning Mrytle; the Dark Forest and Aragog, which is entirely exposition, Ron being scared, and the stupid flying car; and come to think of it, most every scene concerning the stupid flying car. At the same time, Columbus seems to be allowing his cast and editors a little more latitude for whimsy, as can be seen in the brief but charming scene with Miriam Margoyles as Madame Pomfrey and her baby mandrakes, and in establishing the quirky charm and total disarray of The Burrow (the Weasleys’ home), something later directors were no doubt very thankful to have already sketched out for them. In the later films, most all of the scenes at The Burrow (apart from when the Death-eaters destroy it in film 6) owe quite a lot to Columbus’ setup here. Best scene: by far, the final confrontation in the Chamber between Harry – and Fawkes – with the basilisk and Tom Riddle. The thought, time and energy put into the scene, which goes for 13 minutes, shows in the direction, writing, editing, acting, and effects. In hindsight, it’s in many ways the first mature scene of the series, and a very satisfactory ending to this movie, notwithstanding the obligatory (though well done) explaining-it-all scene with Dumbledore following. Best line: Hagrid, after Ron has been brought to him coughing up slugs from a spell gone wrong: “This calls for specialist equipment.” He hands Ron a gigantic wooden bucket. “Nothing t’ do but wait ‘til it stops, I'm afraid. Better out than in.”


3. the Prisoner of Azkaban, June 2004. There’s really two reasons why this may well be my favorite film of them all. First, there’s little about it which doesn’t work as a movie, from pacing to acting, costumes and sets to writing. Second, Alfonso Cuaron decided to ground the look and feel of everything about it in the Expressionist style of filmmaking, which was the vogue of Germany during the Weimar Republic, that brief moment from 1919-1932, in between the World Wars and before fascism and Hitler came to power. It’s a masterful, brilliant stylistic decision, just right for not only the world of Harry Potter in general, but for this story in particular with its werewolf and an escaped murderer and the terrifying Dementors. The hallmarks are unmistakable: everything angular, stretching of sets taller than wide (and so a fear of falling), pinhole fades and reveals to start and end scenes, “harsh” sound effects with “hollow” reverb not only of noises but also of voices, dreamy atmospheres of smoke and color washes, a prevalence of night scenes and bad weather and motifs involving darkness, repetition in storytelling often with unreliable narrators, doppelgängers, fate as inevitable over choice, and themes of the macabre and unnatural, isolation and danger and madness. Hey, if your country had just lost World War I and your depressed, demoralized citizenry had been levied with unreasonable reparations and the guilt of a lost generation, you’d arrive at this kind of art too.

The actors who project a darker tone do best here: Gary Oldman, David Thewlis, and Alan Rickman own this movie. Emma Thompson, as bumbling psychic Sybil Trelawney, is a master of flicking the switch between comic relief and creepy. The “sunnier” actors (Maggie Smith and Robbie Coltrane, and Julie Walters as Molly Weasley) get little screen time: a judicious if slightly unfair choice. Due to Richard Harris’s death, Michael Gambon was brought in as Dumbledore, though truthfully he has very little to do in this movie other than a few scattered lines and a short speech as he commissions Harry & Hermione to use the Time Turner. Gambon’s Dumbledore is more authoritative, more obviously alert and spry than Harris’s, which does seem slightly out of place, especially in film 4, but will serve him better in films 5 and 6. (Realistically, in 2003-05 when films 3 and 4 were filmed and released, Rowling published book 5 and wrote and published book 6, so Steve Kloves and Michael Gambon were aware of what kind of portrayal was going to be needed.) The child actors have also grown in their trade, and Emma Watson especially gives a nuanced performance.

Mind you, it’s not perfect. It irks me that the authors of the Marauder’s Map are never revealed. The scene in Hogsmeade with Harry listening in on McGonagall and Cornelius Fudge’s conversation feels like it exists solely for plot (and to give Maggie Smith some lines). The closing shot, of Harry flying, is kind of dumb. But these are small quibbles. As to best scenes, there’s more of them than not. Harry searching for Peter Pettigrew and being found with the Marauder’s Map by Snape. Hermione punching Malfoy. Lupin introducing the Boggart. The confrontation in the Shrieking Shack, and how the seven actors involved handle the largely expository scene with raw emotion. Marking the seasons by the Whomping Willow. In the whole first section, the film alternating between comic and threatening notes: through the Dursleys, Night Bus, Leaky Cauldron, Hogwarts Express, and the usual half-welcome, half-warning speech by Dumbledore. The writing and directing is tight and sharp. And like movie 2, the closing sequence is well earned, though here the closing sequence is really the entire last act, as the trio discover all the plot’s secrets, and then Harry & Hermione re-enact the same journey, shadowing themselves and trying to correct what went wrong the first time. Best line: Ron in Divination class, about Harry’s tea leaves: “Well, Harry's got a sort of wonky cross... that's trials and suffering. And, uh, that there could be the sun, and that's happiness, so... you're gonna suffer... but you're gonna be happy about it.”


4. the Goblet of Fire, November 2005. Ah yes, the Bad Hair Movie. Both Harry and Ron’s greasy, fluttery hairdos make an unfortunate sight; Hermione’s smoothed crown with tangled locks looks almost like Hagrid when he combs his hair, minus the beard of course. Still, one has to credit Mike Newell and Steve Kloves with some good decisions, as this is the first novel which needed major trimming to fit into a movie. On the plus side, Dobby is completely gone, and though this may not meet with universal acclaim, I was happy to see Quidditch basically vanish as well. The World Cup is needed to set up various plot points and characters, but the match itself isn’t necessary. By and large there’s a decent economy of scale at work throughout the movie, with minor but necessary scenes treated quickly but well, such as Snape’s accusing Harry of stealing from his storeroom or the Weasley twins attempting to cheat the Goblet of Fire. Main character development is well done, helped by the fact that now all three child actors are quite good at their roles: Harry & Ron’s falling out, and Ron & Hermione’s sulky, snippy not-lovers’ quarrels over having dates for the Yule Ball catch the right note of the stupid teenage emotional rollercoaster. Even a few of the secondary characters get some nice shading, Neville’s surprising enjoyment of dancing and his helping out Harry with the second task, for example. Still, other old friends like Malfoy and Snape, and the new additions of Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang, suffer from not enough screen time, and there’s sadly only one and a half scenes with Rita Skeeter, Miranda Richardson wickedly stealing both of them. Best line: Malfoy, about to curse Harry while Harry’s back is turned, gets turned into a ferret by an angry Alistair Moody, who proceeds to toss the ferret repeatedly in the air with his wand. McGonagall (running up): “Professor Moody, what are you doing?!” Moody: “Teaching.” However, Dumbledore is a bit strange, or rather, Michael Gambon’s portrayal is. He’s so much angrier than I remember him being from the book, frustrated and peevish. It’s not until his final scene in Harry’s dorm that he feels like the Dumbledore I think of. Gambon does just fine, for me, in the other films, but here he seems off-kilter.

Full disclosure: book 4 was my favorite of the series, so I tend to cast a slightly more negative eye on the movie than perhaps I should. In the movie, once the Tri-Wizard Tournament begins, it’s practically the entire rest of the picture apart from the Yule Ball. In the book, there’s so much more going on in between each task of the tournament. There’s still some good stuff: best scenes include Harry & Moaning Myrtle in the tub, Harry’s contest with the dragon, the gruff cruelty of Moody’s lesson on the Unforgivable Curses, and Moody’s own unmasking at the end, the sinister truth dawning upon Harry slowly and to full effect. However, like movie 2, the final confrontation is really the crucial thing: Voldemort returning to life, a truly evil being released upon the world, taunting and torturing Harry and salivating as he moves in for the kill. Harry has two shining moments, both brilliantly captured by Daniel Radcliffe: the choice to emerge from hiding and face Voldemort on his own terms, and the return to Hogwarts with the Tri-Wizard Cup and Cedric’s body. The scene is, even on repeated viewings, quite moving. Harry and Cedric appear, Harry clutching the cup and Cedric’s arm, and the crowd goes wild, cheering as the band strikes up. Harry is dazed, and slowly those close to him realize something is very, very wrong. The celebration is thrown into confusion and fear by tragedy. Cedric’s body cold and stiff, Harry shaking and crying and trying to throw himself protectively around it. Dumbledore and Snape moving in instinctively to shield Harry; Harry wildly chokes out that Voldemort has returned and killed Cedric; Cedric’s father and Mr. Weasley pushing their way forward and falling into grief. Harry’s world, and the tone of the film series, are cast into shadow and changed.