(This review was scribbled on the inside of a popcorn bucket whilst at the Acme Theatre in Riverton, Wyoming.)
If we are honest with ourselves... we must admit that all of the books are often unnecessarily busy and at times suffer from a glut of undistinguishable details, but rarely has that flaw of the text been so manifest in the film versions. Sadly, such is the case with this latest installment of the Harry Potter franchise, as it crams in as much as possible into every moment and yet still seems a bit tepid and unmemorable. Lovely plot subtleties, like the magical GPS-tracking tag applied to the taboo name of Lord Voldemort, are left out in favor of far too many wand-action scenes that don’t quite convince me of their lethal qualities.
But no matter, this is the penultimate moment of Harry Potter after all and we have been on this magical rollercoaster ride since 1997. We have already invested so much time and energy into this narrative that the momentum of the whole experience carries us up and over and thru all the minor messes and mistakes of this movie into a place that is beyond judgment… into a place where we just sink back into our plush chairs and enjoy the world and the characters even if we can’t always understand what is what or why at any particular moment.
We can enjoy the barely discernible but palpably painful conflict etched into Snape’s face during his few brief moments on screen. We can enjoy the excellent imagistic rendering of the story of the Deathly Hallows. We can enjoy the unhinged malevolence of Bellatrix, as she chews up every scene that she enters. We can enjoy that Hermione has grown into even more of a delicious peach of a young lady.
And finally, and perhaps best of all, we can enjoy the inclusion of a small scene that is not from the original text. When Harry and Hermione are left alone after the explosion of Ron’s jealousy, a deep and profound despair settles on them both. It is painful, it is lonely, and there are no words. The tension and distance between Harry and Hermione is horrible. Anyone that has been in a long-term relationship knows this feeling; a thousand torturous miles compressed into a bedroom.
But, take note!, the Boy-Who-Lived shows a way to defuse that sickly silent separation that inflicts all of us at some point. Harry does the only thing that one can do in a moment like that. He creates a new moment and a new feeling out of nothing except his will to do so, no magic involved. He turns on the radio and dances with her. It is an awkward and sincere attempt at producing joy ex nihilo, and for a few brief turns around the floor it works. Sadly, the poor boy doesn’t know how to seal the deal… but of course, that isn’t how the story goes, as much as we would like it to.
If we are honest with ourselves... we must admit that all of the books are often unnecessarily busy and at times suffer from a glut of undistinguishable details, but rarely has that flaw of the text been so manifest in the film versions. Sadly, such is the case with this latest installment of the Harry Potter franchise, as it crams in as much as possible into every moment and yet still seems a bit tepid and unmemorable. Lovely plot subtleties, like the magical GPS-tracking tag applied to the taboo name of Lord Voldemort, are left out in favor of far too many wand-action scenes that don’t quite convince me of their lethal qualities.
But no matter, this is the penultimate moment of Harry Potter after all and we have been on this magical rollercoaster ride since 1997. We have already invested so much time and energy into this narrative that the momentum of the whole experience carries us up and over and thru all the minor messes and mistakes of this movie into a place that is beyond judgment… into a place where we just sink back into our plush chairs and enjoy the world and the characters even if we can’t always understand what is what or why at any particular moment.
We can enjoy the barely discernible but palpably painful conflict etched into Snape’s face during his few brief moments on screen. We can enjoy the excellent imagistic rendering of the story of the Deathly Hallows. We can enjoy the unhinged malevolence of Bellatrix, as she chews up every scene that she enters. We can enjoy that Hermione has grown into even more of a delicious peach of a young lady.
And finally, and perhaps best of all, we can enjoy the inclusion of a small scene that is not from the original text. When Harry and Hermione are left alone after the explosion of Ron’s jealousy, a deep and profound despair settles on them both. It is painful, it is lonely, and there are no words. The tension and distance between Harry and Hermione is horrible. Anyone that has been in a long-term relationship knows this feeling; a thousand torturous miles compressed into a bedroom.
But, take note!, the Boy-Who-Lived shows a way to defuse that sickly silent separation that inflicts all of us at some point. Harry does the only thing that one can do in a moment like that. He creates a new moment and a new feeling out of nothing except his will to do so, no magic involved. He turns on the radio and dances with her. It is an awkward and sincere attempt at producing joy ex nihilo, and for a few brief turns around the floor it works. Sadly, the poor boy doesn’t know how to seal the deal… but of course, that isn’t how the story goes, as much as we would like it to.
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