Rambling about the Harry Potter Films
I find the consistency of the Harry Potter series quite staggering. Of course, we may expect this from the David Yates adaptions (the last four films), but the episodic nature of the storytelling is perfectly complemented by a high-contrast and dark palette of colours that help to construct a very conscious and recognisable style. The magical and fantastic set designs are investigated and perused by an immense number of tracking shots and angular cinematography, and the films are generally well-paced and fun.
There is generally a perception
that the third film is where the tone significantly darkens. Indeed, the first
two are bright in colour and comedic (sometimes unintentionally so). The third
film is often cited as the best too, with Alfonso Cuaron’s signature tracking
shots, and their ability to shift through windows being highlighted especially
as a sort of visual quantifier for his skill. On this latest re-watch, and I
use the phrase lightly considering I mustn’t have seen them for a few years now
(and I’m not very old), I was struck by how forcefully Cuaron’s camerawork
seems to immerse itself in the wizarding world – the thrill of it all. Spells are greeted by intense and
quick tracking shots that appear in awe of the spells, and rightfully so. Even
the more unique devices of the film such as time-travel and the ‘Marauder’s
Map’ are presented in exciting ways. Exemplary of this is a great sequence in
which Harry and Hermione travel back in time to change events of the story,
utilising CGI and alternate shots of the same events to implicate us in the
shock of these revelations. Even sound cues are replicated; we are seeing two worlds, and it is inherently fun. This is a pleasure
that is purely cinematic, and Cuaron’s virtuosic ability to translate fantasy
to the technical pleasures of film should be applauded.
On the other hand, and while I do
enjoy the later films quite a bit, David Yates and Mike Newell (who directed
the fourth film) appear more functional as filmmakers, and slightly less
inspired. No more is this present in the frequent magic battles that are
ostensibly as cinematic and interesting as watching two people point sticks at
each other with stern faces occasionally growling or insulting each other;
because this is exactly what these scenes are.
In spite of the obvious aesthetic
changes between the second and third films, I found The Goblet of Fire to really reinforce this dark tone. In fact, it
seemed odd that Hogwarts, a castle that is frequently established as being the
only place where Harry is safe, would be holding a tournament that seems rather
cavalier in its attitude towards protecting children. In one scene Harry
literally breaks the rules and risks dying to save a drowning child who has
been placed in this challenge; are we to assume that she would die if he did
not do this?
The fourth film offered a
standout scene for me though: a dance in which Ron spitefully ruins Hermione’s
night out (a sort of prom thing) because of jealously over her not being with
him. The performances are compelling, and the side characters in each film are
consistently brilliant (I enjoy Brendan Gleeson’s in particular). We remember
that these films are teen movies, and the threat of rejection and the intoxicating nature of
love is punctuated throughout them. Amongst the monotonous wand waving, the
humanity comes through somehow.
Addendum:
After writing this article I
finished the series, and I must admit that the sixth film is a bit of a blur
for me, and I only watched it a few days ago. Additionally, I have turned
around on The Deathly Hallows Part 1,
which I almost disliked on principle. However, considering that I find the overall
narrative of the films quite uncompelling, it seems less of a tragedy to have
the last book in two parts. Indeed, more of the great character moments are
present in the penultimate film, including a scene of Harry and Hermione
dancing together to Nick Cave, which is delightful.
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