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. 

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1

You know why these books were so popular? They were fun. At least, for the most part they were fun. This movie? Not fun. Not saying “bad,” but emphatically not fun. This is more like watching The Revenant, or maybe even A Boy and His Dog, than watching a big-budget, tentpole fantasy production. That makes evaluating this entry in the series a bit of a puzzle. Again, it’s not bad, but it is so far away from where the saga started that you can’t help but feel that the rug has been, if not pulled out from under you, then at least shifted while you were standing on it. The dark turn of the story was inevitable, one supposes, given the tale's very linear plot; there really was no other way to go. The rapidly-aging kids do a good job with the difficult material, and the presentation is well done all around, yet this film ultimately leaves this viewer, at least, feeling like the ride he's getting is not the one he wanted. We know where it’s all going, of course, and perhaps the last act will ultimately be redeeming—will pull off the ultimate trick, as it were. 

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

More of the same, with perhaps a bit more charm—the personal kind, not the occult kind—as the story moves more into the realm of teenage angst and romance. The strength of the series lies in the inspired casting of the principal characters: the leads grow, figuratively and literally, throughout the films, and especially in the viewer’s heart. You really grow to care about these characters as the story progresses, and that is a credit to these then young actors; they may have seemed out of their depth in the first episode, but by this point they really came to inhabit their characters. You want them to win, and, if the story comes to a somewhat straightforward and perhaps unimaginative end—most of the imagination went into forming the world of the tale—that’s all right at the end of the day. Perhaps finding that you can care about fictional characters is the real magic. 

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Interesting to note about the books: as the series progressed, the publisher simply stopped editing Rowling’s text. That’s why the books got bigger and bigger with each entry. (That, and they realized they could charge more for heavier tomes.) That presents a problem if you’re adapting them into movies. Sprawling texts are problematic but viable in print, whereas including everything, kitchen sink and all, won’t work for a movie. Thus, some parts have to be left out, and you start to see that effect at this stage of the series. Some characters and subplots—or at least plot elements—are eliminated noticeably here, for the sake of avoiding a four-hour film. Those excisions don’t necessarily hurt the story—arguably, it improves the tale’s overall flow—but fans of the series will recognize the absences. Still, this outing provides an experience consistent with the rest of the series, and as we established in the earlier reviews, this enterprise achieved its goals, if little more. Meaning: a satisfying experience for almost all viewers. Presto cinemo! 

Corpse Bride

Wow. When The Nightmare Before Christmas is the "normal" cousin, that's one weird family. Both that work of genius and this film bear a familial resemblance, though the younger relative is not quite the achiever that the elder cousin is. This one has a lot of the same visual inventiveness, the same mix of jokes and drama, and is mostly entertaining throughout. The only real problems here are a certain unevenness in the musical numbers; with this outing soundtrack master Danny Elfman tries to broaden the range of song styles, which only creates a certain choppiness rather than a smooth, unified score. Mostly, that's a quibble; there's more than enough good stuff here to make this flick a fun time.

Dark Shadows

I don’t know; this Depp-Burton thing may have run its course. Not to say that this is a bad movie, but at certain points in this picture you get the impression that maybe someone else, singly or in a pair, could have brought something better to this revision of the old TV show. There are good moments here, some nice satire of the period (a good idea not to set the action in current times), but by the end the filmmakers have gone overboard; a little too much trying, not enough just leaving it alone and letting it be. You want to applaud effort, but not so much effort that it gets in the way.

Les Misérables

Simply spectacular stuff. I was surprised by all the complaints I heard and read about this film; the issues raised never amounted to more than quibbles in my eyes. What I got out of it was a great viewing experience: tremendous performances from several of the cast members (Jackman, Hathaway, and Barks in particular), a lot of memorable music, and a rich visual presentation that truly enhanced the complex and deeply emotional story. I was especially intrigued by how Javert prefigures the soldiers of Nazi Germany, and by the moral contrast between Javert's failures and Valjean’s powerfully redemptive story. Not just bang-up entertainment, but heavy, interesting stuff to think about, too. A must see.

Terminator: Salvation

The machine in question, with this movie franchise, may as well be a copier--an old copier with a lot of worn parts and an overused imager. What do you get out of that sort of machine? A copy, yes, but a faded facsimile, one that resembles your original piece, but is tough to read, loses parts of its original whole, and often isn't good enough to get the job done. So it is with the Terminator films: there's some good stuff here, and you never get a bad performance from Christian Bale. But we've seen this premise, these themes, those iconic symbols (and even specific lines of dialogue) too many times before. Their impact has faded.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

It seems that movie producers will never learn the lesson: they're not better/smarter/more inventive than the book writers who serve as their sources. Certainly not better than Roald Dahl. This version of Dahl's classic takes too many liberties in introducing Wonka's backstory, and makes the character less a fascinating enigma and more just plain weirdo. The changes detract from what is otherwise an admirable effort--especially in the other side of the dyad, where the story makes clear what a hero Charlie Bucket is. The kid really did deserve his very own chocolate factory.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street

Occasionally too over the top, but the film brings us nice direction from Tim Burton, beautiful cinematography, and just the right touch of insanity in a surprisingly effective story. All in all, we'll call it a fine mess.

The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

Wallace and Gromit's shot at the big time. Don't know if they'll get another one, but they certainly gave it their all here. This film has the whole W & G package: the brilliantly executed stop-motion animation, a flood of clever sight gags and in-jokes (including Wallace's typical Goldbergian contraptions), the goofy sense of flair--all wrapped around a smart, entertaining story. Full marks for this effort, and let's hope there's another one.

Planet Of The Apes (2001)

Visually, about what we would expect from Tim Burton. But some of the "philosophy" got lost in the update, making the story a little too straightforward and shallow. And no, that ending doesn't make much sense without going into headache-inducing time paradoxes.

Fight Club

It's tough to trust this movie at first, but it sure does reel you in by the time the fists start flying. Excellent story (with a twist), excellent performances, and a great ending. A "Best Of All" inductee.

The Wings Of The Dove

One of those stuffy British dramas; unfortunately, in this case, not a particularly engaging one. I can hardly remember it. I think Venice played some part in the story, but other than some nice visuals, not a lot to recommend here.