Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2

Well, that’s that. As Marge Simpson once said, “It’s an ending,” and I suppose there’s little more to say beyond that. One has to assume that every single person who has ever watched this movie—or indeed any outing of the series—knew before sitting down how things would play out, so there were no points to be scored through surprises or reveals. So this project had to stand mostly on feeling, on how well it captured the vibe of the publishing phenomenon. And I think it did a good job at that. But I remain touched by the sense that the overarching story’s turn from fun to dark, not to mention vaguely tragic, ultimately represents a kind of literary—and by extension cinematic—stumble, if not an outright failure. The latter term seems too harsh, so I guess it’s best to declare that the author painted herself early on into a narrative corner, and simply had to carry it through to the end. Fortunately, there remain further dimensions of the film to appreciate, most prominent being the fact that you get to spend one last time with characters (and actors) you’ve come to like and admire, maybe even love—though this sort of finality always brings a touch of the bittersweet with it. We must go on without Harry, Hermione and Ron, plus certain others (I'm partial to Luna). At least we can always pick up a book and give it another reading, if the separation proves unendurable. Thanks, kids, not for making magic, but for being it. Farewell.