In The Beginning... - A Requiem For Rik Mayall
So that new "Harry Potter" flick... it was... something, right?
In the matter of full disclosure, I freely admit here that I am, in fact, a "Harry Potter" fan. I've read all of the books, and I've kept current with the films. I don't think they're high art, or anything. But the series (books & movies) is certainly above-average fare. The book series is well-written, and actually matures with its growing readership.
As the Boy Who Lived and his black magic pals grow up on the page, the young muggle boys and gilrs who read their exploits grow up right along with them. The series manages to capture the essence of growing up and facing the reponsibilities of the world that wait for the reader, wrapped up in a big, fanciful bow of good old-fashioned sorcery. That's endearing.
The film series does the same thing, only in the films the viewers actually get to watch young Harry and his BFFs mature before their eyes. The visual aspect of this phenomenon interests me. Being a jaded teenager when the first book was published, I missed out on that particular aspect of it all. But the fact that this family-friendly saga managed to ensnare me in my "fuck the world, I'm gonna sit in my basement and listen to 'The Misfits' " phase certainly says something about the wide appeal of the franchise.
Anyway, as a "Harry Potter and the..." fan, I've enjoyed watching the startlingly inept boy wizard's adventures on the silver screen. It was a rough start, to be sure, with the firmly middle-of-the-road director Chris Columbus' inaugural entries in the franchise. Don't get me wrong; the first two films are hardly bad cinema. They're just not terribly inspiring. I saw the films, and I enjoyed them, to a certain degree. But they didn't really stick with me.
In fact, I daresay that the only reason why I enjoyed them as much as I did was because I was so familiar with the source material that my mind automatically filled in all of the gaps left in the lackluster adaptation.
Needless to say, as soon as Chris Columbus walked away from the franchise (as a director), the quality of the subsequent films improved. Dramatically. Bringing on Alfonso Cuaron to direct "...and the Prisoner of Azkaban" was a cool choice. And although that film bafflingly excised several matters from the book that I thought were rather important (the origin of the Marauder's Map? Anybody?), it was clearly a step in the right direction.
Then Warner Bros. got Mike Newell to direct "...and the Goblet of Fire". The man who directed "Donnie Brasco"? Working on a "Harry Potter" flick? Fine by me. The end product certainly has its flaws. I mean, adapting a novel the size of a fucking phone book into a 2 hour+ film is certainly a challenge. But the movie is good. Really good.
After Newell departed to follow his dream of casting a bunch of white people in a film about ancient Persia, the studio reached out to David Yates to take over the directorial reins of the megablockbuster film franchise. Now when Mr. Yates was announced as the director for "...and the Order of the Phoenix", most people answered this news with a resounding shrug. Not me. For I recognized David Yates as the director of the astounding "State Of Play". Not the inferior 2009 movie. No, I'm talking about the superior 2003 BBC mini-series.
What was that? You've never seen this mini-series? You, Dear Imaginary Reader, should be ashamed of yourself. You owe it to yourself to watch "State Of Play". The min-series, not the film. Although the film is good, too. But I'll take John Simm over Russell Crowe any day of the week.
My point is, I thought throwing David Yates into the Potter-verse was an inspired idea. His pedigree left me assured that he would be able to give the "heavier" moments in the final chapters the depth and weight that they required, without sacrificing the "breathing room" sequences of levity that are necessary in such a story (he also directed an adaptation of "The Young Visiters". I can't help but notice your blank stare. Just Google it).
And my faith in Mr. Yates was rewarded. You see, I'm one of those people who believes the film versions of "...and the Order of the Phoenix" and "...and the Half-Blood Prince" are the best films in the series. Needless to say, when Yates decided to come back to direct the adaptation of "...and the Deathly Hallows", I wasn't worried. Until Warner Bros. announced that they were going to chop the manuscript in half and make two movies out of it.
You know... to give the story the respect it deserved.
But hey, two more "Harry Potter" movies from David Yates is better than one! Right?
But What About Dobby?! - Adventures In Camping
So Dumbledore's dead. The world's falling apart. Evil wizards are killing muggles. Voldemort's still wondering where his fucking nose went. Basically, the situation looks grim. Brave young wizard Harry Potter and his pals have quite the quest ahead of them, a search-and-destroy mission involving the remaining horcruxes that contain bits of Voldemort's shattered soul, in a hail Mary effort to rid the world of the serpentine son of a bitch once and for all.
Our heroes are visited by Minister of Magc Rufus Scrimgeour (Bill Nighy! Hooray!), who gives them some important items bequeathed to them in Dumbledore's will. Except for the Sword of Gryffindor, because apparently Dumbledore in his old age forgot that the fabled blade didn't belong to him, but to Hogwarts. And it's missing.
Mad-Eye Moody shows up (Brendan Gleeson! Hooray!), sets up a great big convoy of Harry Potter clones on broomsticks to evade the Death Eaters en route to sanctuary at the Weasley house. Mad-Eye dies off-screen (Boo!) and Harry's beloved owl Hedwig takes the loss to defend her owner (...*shrug*). At the Weasley house, we're introduced to elder brother Bill (in the books, we meet him in "the Prisoner of Azkaban"), and he is immediately married to Fleur Delacour (*shrug*).
During the reception, the partygoers are informed that Minister Scrimgeour is dead (Boo!) and the Death Eaters have taken over the Ministry of Magic. Then some Death Eaters show up to crash the party. Harry, Hermione and Ron disapparate and some stuff happens. There's a wizard fight in a diner, Harry talks to the Black family's surly house elf Kreecher, the gang finds out that a locket/horcrux once owned by Regulus Black is now in the hands of one Delores Umbridge. You remember that cold-hearted bitch, right?
Our wizard heroes break into the Voldemort-friendly Ministry of Magic, get into some wacky misadventures, steal the horcrux, and get out while the getting's good. Unable to destroy the horcrux outright, they decide to travel through England's beautiful Forest Of Dean for a while, until they're able to figure out a way to crack this evil clam open and destroy the meaty soul-chunk within.
They take turns wearing the One Locket To Rule Them All around their necks, attempting to keep its evil influence from corrupting them. Too bad Ron didn't get the memo, as he is overcome with jealousy (he wants to bone Hermione) and fucks off to parts unkown. But then he comes back, because who else was going to save Harry from drowning in a frozen pond whilst trying to retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor?
Certainly not Harry himself, considering he didn't have the foresight to remove the absolutely evil One Locket from around his neck before he jumps into the frigid water. Sure, he takes off his clothes before diving in, because he watches a lot of "Man Vs. Wild". But I guess Bear Grylls didn't cover objects corrupted by pure evil in his "documentary series".
Our heroes visit Xenophilius Lovegood (Rhys Ifans! Hooray!), and he betrays them to the Death Eaters because they're holding his daughter Luna hostage. Before he does that, Exposition Lovegood tells Harry, Etc. about "the Deathly Hallows", three legendary objects that hold incredible power (the Cloak of Invisibility, the Sorcerer's Stone, and the Elder Wand). The tale of the Deathly Hallows is relayed to the audience in the form of a delightful animated sequence, the highlight of the film.
Anyway, Harry and the gang are carted off the the House of Malfoy, where they meet up with Luna, Olivander (John Hurt! Hooray!) and a goblin (Warwick Davis! Hooray!) in the Malfoy rape dungeon. Before the Death Eaters have the chance to seriously fuck up Harry's day, everyone's favorite house elf Dobby shows up and teaches every other heroic character in the "Harry Potter" series how it's really done.
Seriously, the little man's a badass. Why couldn't the series be called "Dobby the Destroyer and the..."? Dobby decides it's time to pull a "Delta Force" and disapparate the hostages to safety. It's what Chuck Norris would have done. Unfortunately, Voldemort's favorite bag of crazy Bellatrix Lestrange manages to nail poor Dobby with a well-timed dagger throw as the crew disapparates.
Now safely out of harm's way, kind-hearted Dobby has served his purpose in the story, and now it's time for him to die. He cacks it on a picturesque beach, and the audience cries along with Harry Potter and his crew. Harry insists that they bury Dobby "the ye olde way" (without magic) and our heroes are left on that beach to wait for Part 2's release next Summer.
Meanwhile, Snake Face breaks into Dumbledore's tomb and finds the Elder Wand in the dead wizard's possession. Voldemort literally takes the Elder Wand (which looks suspiciously like a dildo) from Dumbledore's cold, dead hands. He then proceeds to raise the Elder Phallus into the night air, erupting into a Black Magic orgasm as the film smash-cuts to black. Roll credits.
I didn't really enjoy "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1". Of course, I also didn't have such a great time reading the first half of J.K. Rowling's book, either. The story just spent far too much time spinning its wheels with the epic "camping sequence". I had vainly hoped that the film would remove most of the camping bullshit, just to keep the narrative rolling along. I knew when the story was split into two films that my wish was not to be.
Sure, there were some things to like about the film. The sequence involving Harry, Ron and Hermione sneaking into the Ministry of Magic to retrieve the One Locket was a highlight, as was the startling climax at the Malfoy mansion. But overall, I was just bored. In fact, the delicious "butterbeer" that I enjoyed during the film (one of my local theatre's themed mixed-drink concoctions) was better than the actual movie.
The biggest problem with the film is that's it's not complete. It's literally half of a movie. The narrative reaches a certain point where it just stops. The "Lord Of The Rings" films didn't end so abruptly.
Despite my misgivings with Part 1, when Part 2 opens next Summer, I'll find myself excited to see the action-packed conclusion to the "Harry Potter" saga. Because the second half of the novel was a blast. And at least the boring part is out of the way.
The Sleeper Has Awakened! - When You Feel Like A Pervert
One of the most appealing aspects of the "Harry Potter" film series is the cast. The films are populated with a virtual "who's who" of British cinema, and they all treat the material with respect. I've yet to see a haughty actor phone-in their performance. More intriguingly, the principal cast of characters has remained consistent from film to film. No major leading or supporting role has been recast, aside from Dumbledore, of course. But that wasn't his fault.
It's been surreal watching our three leading actors Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint (Harry, Hermione & Ron) grow up on screen with their characters. We, the audience, have seen these three young, inexperienced child actors mature into capable, talented young adults. This was the smartest decision Chris Columbus made when he directed "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone". He hired these three kids to portray the central roles of one of the biggest theatrical franchises the world has ever seen.
The formative years of their lives have been captured on film. When these actors are grandparents, they can watch the films with their families as home movies of a sort. A walk down memory lane. It's a fascinating thing.
It's also a rather uncomfortable thing, if you look at it a certain way. For the audience, I mean. As I've said, these actors are adults, now. They've gone through puberty. We can assume they're having sex. Hell, an episode of the brilliant Ricky Gervais / Stephen Merchant series "Extras" centered around this very topic, with a horny Daniell Radcliffe stalking a film set with a condom burning a hole in his pocket, eager to get laid.
It was funny, but it also raises a question, at least to me: is it okay to find these now-adult actors sexually attractive?
If you surf the web long enough (12 seconds), you'll surely find multitudes of message board posts commenting on "how hot" Emma Watson is, or how Daniel Radcliffe "looks dreamy" (sorry Rupert "Thunderpants" Grint!). Civilized society says that these actors are of legal age, so it's okay to find them attractive. But think about it. Millions of people have seen the "Harry Potter" films. These actors will forever be tied to their signature characters. And they first appeared in "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" as children.
Sure, Emma Watson is an attractive woman now...
...But she used to be a cute kid.
Let's look at Shirley Temple, as an example.
She was the first child star, becoming a bonafide icon in 1934's "Stand Up And Cheer!" at the age of 5. Within two years, she was one of the most recognized people in the world. Everyone knew Shirley Temple. She retired from the business in 1950, on the day she married Charles Alden Black, a man nine years her senior.
Now obviously Mr. Black was aware of Shirley Temple before he met her in the flesh. He was probably in a similar situation to many of the young men who now hold lust in their hearts for Emma Watson. Black had certainly seen at least several of her films, featuring Temple as a precocious, singing and dancing little moppet. And yet, one day he met Shirley Temple and thought to himself, I'd hit that. And he did. They had two kids.
I'm just wondering how he could get it up if Temple's stirring rendition of "The Good Ship Lollipop" kept creeping into his mind, unbidden. How far back in her filmography did Black's lovely wife become persona non grata?
Now I know that everybody started out as a child, and despite that knowledge,we've still managed to fuck our way into a worldwide population of 6 billion+ without feeling like a species of hapless pedophiles in the clutches of Chris Hansen. But for most of us, aside from a few pictures in an old photo album or the occassional home movie, we have little evidence to remind us that the people we choose to love were once delightful little children.
All I know is that like most heterosexual males in my demographic, I've looked at pictures of Emma Watson at the premiere of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" and absent-mindedly thought I'd hit that. But then I think about it for a few seconds, and I start to feel a little creeped-out. Then I watch "Extras" and see Daniel Radcliffe fling a condom at Diana Rigg's head, and I laugh.
I'm easily distracted.
P.S. - I'll be back to talk about "Faster" in a few days. You've been warned.
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