Downton Abbey: A New Era (2022)

Score: 4.5 / 5

It's as if we never left the fastidiously groomed estate. Downton Abbey had its throngs of adoring fans as a serial show, and these films meant to continue the soapy saga keep bringing them out in droves; in the sold-out evening screening I attended, I was the youngest audience member by at least two decades. I'm grateful for these films, because they feel more self-contained than most of the show's seasons, almost like extended single episodes. The delicious drama imagined by Julian Fellowes continues its upstairs/downstairs conflicts while we can enjoy and imagine such an aristocratic life a hundred years ago across the pond. But this movie is a bit different than the previous film, which itself triumphantly pushed the envelope farther than I thought the show would or could, so let's put our best foot forward here and step right in.

A New Era, indeed. This installment's two main plotlines are as follows: most of the Crawley family goes on a vacation to the south of France, where Granny Violet has suddenly come into possession of a seaside villa; most of the servants remain at the abbey, where a motion picture crew takes up residence to make an early "talkie" film. That's it. Typical of Fellowes, it's brilliant and self-contained and reliant on the tense policing of propriety in dialogue to work, which of course it does. I thought it was a bit annoying at first, as butler and teacher Molesley (Kevin Doyle) gives us some introductory narration, much like a "previously on Downton Abbey" catch-up reel, but then, it has been a while since we've seen these characters.

Thankfully, Granny Violet, the Dowager Countess, is back again after her poignant potential send-off in the previous film, and here she is herself, in fact, the inciting incident. She receives notice that an old acquaintance (very old, as they last saw each other some sixty or seventy years prior) has willed her the deed to his seaside French villa, and she in turn is willing it to her only great-grandchild without property, young Sybbie (daughter of former chauffer and current estate manager Tom Branson and the late Lady Sybil Crawley). The family is atwitter with curiosity about this unexpected gift. What exactly was the nature of their Granny's relationship with the recently deceased marquis? Why has she never spoken of it? Naturally, most of them venture south to learn more, and the film spares no expense in its lavish attention to beauty when they eventually reach the villa. Her son Robert (Hugh Bonneville), the Earl of Grantham, is especially anxious, as he begins to suspect that he may have been the product of his mother's potential tryst with the marquis.

While enjoying the warm weather and sunshine -- all except their tightly-laced butler Carson (Jim Carter -- the family must field skepticism and doubt from the marquis's family, including his widow and son. Robert's wife Cora (Elizabeth McGovern) seems to be battling with her health, and with the ailing Granny back at home, Robert begins to spiral out, fearing losing the two most important women in his life along with his good name (or, rather, his surname, if his fears about Granny's past prove to be founded). It doesn't help that the French family already suspect the same, but things don't really get settled there emotionally. Just legally, as Tom (Allen Leech) and his new wife Lucy (Tuppence Middleton) gratefully accept ownership of the villa on behalf of their daughter.

When they return, they see what their servants have been up to under the watchful eye of Lady Mary Crawley/Talbot (Michelle Dockery). Working as the head of the estate now, Mary has welcomed a film crew in for the month, excited to open the house to the world again and to earn enough money from them that she might finally repair the leaking roof. Unlike the aloof family, the servants are thrilled at the prospect of meeting stars and seeing the magic behind the scenes; Molesley reveals his passions for the art form, and even manages to help the film by rewriting its screenplay. The gracious director (Hugh Dancy) intended to make a silent film, but as talking pictures are the new rage in London, he quickly enlists Mary to help him get a sound technician and flip the film. He also develops feelings for Mary, whose husband is always away. This particular subplot feels especially, cloyingly soapy, but it's Hugh Dancy so that's fine with me.

The film is going along rather bumpily, apart from its director's attempts at romance, due to its stars as well. Its dashing leading man Guy (Dominic West) is more than a little anxious about being in his first talkie, but he finds some solace in befriending butler Thomas Barrow (Robert James-Collier), whose hopeful love life (from the previous film) is suddenly dashed. I love that this film embraces his queerness and gives him, finally, a very happy ending. The talkie's leading lady Myrna (Laura Haddock), however, is a stuck-up high society bitch whose voice is, well, not suited for audio recordings. Think Singin' in the Rain and "I can't stand him." She's a hot mess when Lady Mary is asked to step in and dub her dialogue, but there is a remarkable scene in which the cook Mrs. Patmore (Lesley Nicol) and kitchen maid Daisy (Sophie McShera) sit her down and have a come-to-Jesus moment regarding her Cockney accent. It's the first and only time in the entire franchise I've actually liked Daisy, and she's actually being a good person finally!

A New Era is gorgeously shot and rapturously jubilant. Even when things get a little dark, scary, or sad in this franchise (okay, when things get sad, they get tragic), there is always a lovely light shining through reminding us that this is, ultimately, a love story between all kinds of people and with the place they call home. Director Simon Curtis (My Week with Marilyn, Goodbye Christopher Robin, Woman in Gold), accredited cinematographer Andrew Dunn, and their collaborators do really amazing work in this relatively short film to catch us up, absorb us into the new intrigues, and tie everything up in a beautiful and heart-wrenching bow. If this is the last we see of these beloved characters, they've made sure that it's a nearly perfect sendoff. And that's a monumental achievement.

Amulet (2020)

 Score: 5 / 5

A stunning work of Gothic horror, Amulet sees actor Romola Garai directing her first feature film. It is the voice of a brave and brilliant newcomer to the genre, much like Jennifer Kent with The Babadook or Natalie Erika James with Relic earlier this year. No doubt aided by her training as an actor, she elicits stunning and nuanced performances from her three principal cast members. But as a new director, she is in full control of this movie and manages to make it beautiful in its ugliness. And, most impressively, her incredible writing skills use this story to aggressively, angrily challenge the status quo of women in horror -- indeed, in the world -- while changing the game for feminist genre pictures.

She begins with Tomaz (the beautiful Alec Secareanu of God's Own Country, Ammonite), a man squatting in a London den by night and working hard labor by day. His difficult life is dramatized in effective shorthand, but we recognize that he's haunted by something more traumatizing. We learn through flashbacks that he is a former soldier of an unspecific conflict, but it is also clear that he was not a frontline warrior, as he is only shown as an isolated sentry in a quiet, foggy wood. We see, early, that he binds his hands with duct tape before he sleeps, as if afraid his own Mr. Hyde will do something terrible. This pairs, uncomfortably, with his flashbacks, in which a lone woman suddenly materializes and Tomaz (who, for an attractive man, is quite creepy) aggressively tries to make her feel safe with him. As these scenes progress, we sense him wrestling with certain urges through his body language and side-eye ogling.

The haunted Tomaz is forced to the streets when his squatter's den catches fire, and he is found and taken in by the kindly Sister Claire (Imelda Staunton of Harry Potter, Vera Drake, Maleficent, Pride). She takes him to a house wherein he can live for free, in exchange for his help as a repairman. The house, he quickly learns, is falling apart, and grimy plumbing problems plague his days. His companion in this house is the quiet Magda (Carla Juri, Blade Runner 2049), who cares for her ailing -- read: screaming -- mother locked in the attic. The house becomes a sort of character itself, helped by strong production design, and it quickly becomes clear that everything is not as it seems. Not just because all of Magda's meals for Tomaz are heavy on meat. There's the weird hints of who previously lived in the house and left their possessions. And, of course, there's the horrific batlike creature bathed in bloody sewage.

But while the mysteries unfold, Garai is most interested in the many references she can make. The rotting house with pools of moldy discoloration feel not unlike something from Japanese horror, along with the rarely seen but distinctly terrifying specter of Magda's mother crawling around the attic. Amber light in the hallways below seem to scream "yellow wallpaper" to us, and Magda's submissive behavior fits right in. Cinematographer Laura Bellingham transitions between drama and horror by interjecting shots of nature like raindrops on the eaves or snails gliding along moss. It swirls into a heady concoction of textile interest, a film about high-brow concepts that uses the physical senses -- don't even get me started on the sound mixing -- to keep you grounded and invested.

By the film's final act, the mysteries are revealed and the particularly graphic imagery all along suddenly makes sense. We understand why there have been so many yonic symbols: partly due to the ultimate theme of the film, sure, but also because we are meant to view the movie from Tomaz's perspective, and the imagery means something very specific for him, as we eventually learn. Magda slicing open a fish and pulling out its organs isn't just dinner preparation, and the bloody bed sheet isn't just her period. And then, as the film shifts our assumptions about a protector and the protected, it also inverts our understanding of the intentions of hospitality. After all, earlier Tomaz offers Magda a particularly creepy amulet he found in the dirt. It is this symbol, one intended apparently for comfort or protection, that informs Garai's Gothic aesthetic and her feminist themes, apart from supplying the film's title. It indicates a specific history and tradition that, to discuss here, would spoil too much of the film.

Amulet has a lot on its mind about superficial gender norms, about revenge and forgiveness, about internalized trauma and externalized guilt, and Garai handles it all with grace and a grim sense of fun. While most of the film could be called a slow-burner, it has its share of gruesome, bloody body horror moments to shock and excite. Despite the occasional dip into giallo territory, though, there is no mistaking Garai's sense of fun for her audience's sense of fun. This is an outspoken, angry film, determined to make us squirm with guilt as much as disgust. In fact, I'd liken this film to mother! and the remake of Suspiria more than to the recent films I referenced in my first paragraph, simply due to its righteous anger centered on gendered bodies and violent bodily violations.

I found myself, by the end, still questioning a lot, though, and that is why the movie will continue to fascinate me. Is there a distinction between evil behavior and evil that possesses or compels? Is it possible for someone to earn forgiveness without confronting themselves with their own actions? Does forgiveness require suffering, and if so, for which party? Is sacrifice always about love (as a burgeoning romantic scene between Tomaz and Magda suggests), or is it often more masochistic and selfish than we admit? And just what the hell is that half-bat, half-rat thing doing in the toilet anyway?

Downton Abbey (2019)

Score: 4.5 / 5

They're back!

As a standalone film, the new Downton Abbey leaves a lot to be desired. Almost no time is spent developing any characters -- or even introducing them to first-time audiences -- or establishing the extensive history of the Crawley family and household. The plot is breakneck and often unnecessarily messy, compounded with jolting editing that takes us upstairs, downstairs, and outside within brief minutes. And, apart from a fabulous opening sequence and a single happy(ish) ending we'll discuss anon, there is precious little closure. As a much better ending to the beloved series than the final season finale, this feature works well enough to stopper the drama. One might well hope we'll return to Downton again, though the state of that reunion could make me recant that wish.

But this movie is not meant to be standalone, of course. Instead, we are treated to a ravishing feast for eye and ear. The incredible period detail of the series is brought gloriously to life on the silver screen, rapturously transporting us to 1927, about two years after the last time we visited the Crawley family. King George and Queen Mary are bringing their entourage to Downton, and the whole town is abuzz with excitement. With preparations underway, it's only a matter of time before trouble boils over, and we are the intimate spectators of the proceedings.

For better or worse, this film feels remarkably like any number of the episodes, balanced by the unique voice of writer Julian Fellowes. His interest in the upstairs/downstairs drama reaches a Gosford Park level of tension unlike most in the serial show since the first season. When an assassin appears in town to murder the king, Tom and Mary are caught in a chase for life or death. When the royal staff attempt to bully and oust the Downton staff, the Bateses lead a campaign of sabotage for a taste of the glory and honor to serve their monarch. When an estranged cousin (Imelda Staunton) reappears at Downton, Lady Violet schemes her way into her good graces to settle an inheritance issue once and for all. When Carson is brought back to run the house, Barrow leaves angrily, stumbling upon the greatest misadventure of his life.

It is to these last two events I wish to devote my final thoughts. First, Thomas Barrow has long been one of my favorite characters and the series has dealt him few decent breaks. Here, he makes a friend from the royal staff who takes him out for a night on the town. When a gay club (or whatever such havens for "perverts" might have been called) is raided by the police, Barrow is rescued by his newfound friend. In the most natural and lovely turn of events, the two ultimately express their shared affections and promise to keep in touch. It's a beautiful arc that, to my eyes, carried the film and finally allowed Barrow a more optimistic moment than I ever thought he'd get.

Second, Lady Violet, having exhausted her schemes for the present -- making some small peace with her cousin and maneuvering Tom into the good graces of her cousin's daughter and benefactor -- excuses herself to have a quiet chat with Mary. In the most emotional scene I can remember from the series, she reveals that she is dying. While denying any pity or remorse, she encourages her granddaughter to carry out her legacy and continue to love Downton for her sake. It's a devastating moment that pretty clearly ushers Maggie Smith out of any future connection with the series, and will require you to be well hydrated in advance.

While I normally can't stand this kind of fan service, here it works magnificently because this Downton Abbey has no delusions of being anything but an extension of the series. It delivers fans exactly what we want and expect from characters we love, while dishing out more of its soapy, silly, and profoundly earnest drama by the bucket. I've done a little bit of crying during the run of this show, but after the hiatus, I certainly did not expect to weep as the opening music started up again, as Tom held his beautiful daughter, as Barrow was finally given hope by a good man, or as we said goodbye to Lady Violet.

But, damn, I really could have done without that wretch, Daisy.

*For my review of the sequel, see Downton Abbey: A New Era*

Harry Potter 7 & 8

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010)
Score: 5 / 5

My favorite thing about David Yates is that, while his "big picture" goal for his Harry Potter films remains constant, each of his four installments has a distinctive aesthetic that broadens our view into the wizarding world. Yates views Deathly Hallows: Part 1, the thematically darkest film in the franchise, with an eye toward gritty violence. Between the sweeping panoramas and emotional conversations, we see a few shockingly visceral fights, including the Death Easter attack in the night sky and the Snatcher chase near the end. Filtered through stylized camerawork and higher contrast, these sequences (among others) feel grainy and tactile, almost like footage from an action or war film.

Our three leads successfully venture into new acting territory. Rupert Grint's sulking presence is his best in the series. Emma Watson and Daniel Radcliffe shine in their connected, emotionally rooted performances. We see few other faces for any length of time, but plenty in passing. King of these is Rhys Ifans as tragic and chilling Xenophilius Lovegood. Bill Nighy gives a face to Rufus Scrimgeour, and Andy Linden (whom I do not recall from other major works) gives us an 'orribly charming Mundungus Fletcher. Imelda Staunton, Jason Isaacs, Helena Bonham Carter, Tom Felton, John Hurt, Ralph Fiennes, and Toby Jones reprise their roles from earlier in the series to great, if brief, success. Finally, I want to point out the amazing Kate Fleetwood, who plays the almost inconsequential Mary Cattermole, because she's a great Lady Macbeth (2010) and even showed up in Les Miserables (2012).

The emotional opening sequence takes us from intrigued to sad to terrified, as we see new Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour taking power, our heroes leaving their homes, and Voldemort plotting with his Death Eaters. This expertly crafted opening leads into one of the more exciting action sequences we've seen in the franchise. Before Harry and his friends attempt to fly to safety, they take a potion to appear like Harry, creating a chaotic diversion for the enemy. The Death Eaters attack in a particularly disturbing aerial battle and split up to target the seven Harrys. Hedwig's death in this scene is more satisfying than in the book, because her sacrifice serves as the signal of which Harry is real, rather than a specific spell he uses.

Unfortunately, a few moments are skated over or hurriedly introduced because we have not spent nearly enough time on them in previous films (which has been fine, up till now). Scrimgeour and Mundungus are tossed into the mix rather unceremoniously, but not gracelessly. Auntie Muriel (Matytelok Gibbs) and Elphias Doge (David Ryall) have an abbreviated but memorable conversation during the Weasley wedding (oh, and we can't forget Fleur's lovely dress). While Voldemort's search for the wand is handled well, we could have hoped for more of Dumbledore's backstory; unfortunately, Yates had to cut something, and this was about all he could spare. The lack of information on this front, however, certainly adds to the atmosphere of doubt and speculation. Finally, the shard of glass Harry looks at is oddly left unexplained; though we see its significance in the final film, it still feels awkward and unsatisfying.

Talky and taut, moody and broody, this film oozes paranoia and desolation. Yates's approach even feels like in an indy film several times, and he highlights the complicated, mostly wordless emotions of our leads as they migrate through isolated wilderness. But even more typical Potter moments eke out surprising edge-of-your-seat sensations, as in our heroes' nervously funny infiltration of the Ministry and the masterful venture into Godric's Hollow (a scene that I would have dragged out longer). My favorite scene, though, belongs to Hermione's Tale of the Three Brothers, with its beautiful animation; its colors, pacing, and design are perfect, and serve as the film's crux in fabulous style. The palpably dark climax in Malfoy Manor, Dobby's death, and Voldemort's seizing of the Elder Wand make for a solid, brutal sequence and spike up the energy leading into the final film.

IMDb: The Deathly Hallows: Part 1

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (2011)

Score: 5 / 5

The perfect ending to the series, and a damn good film to boot, Deathly Hallows Part 2 is also one of the best fantasy action films I've ever seen. I say that for a lot of reasons, but foremost is this: Director David Yates understands that the key to any action/fantasy film is to use special effects in support of the drama. Of course, this film has more drama than most films, period, but Yates could easily have gone overboard with his special effects. As it is, the film is heavy with computer-generated visuals; Yates reins them in and darkens them so much, though, that they feel natural and essential to his telling of the story.

Though we see a lot of faces in this, few perform any noteworthy scenes, which is fine for this smash-bang finale.  Oh, and the makeup in this film is particularly great. Emma Watson and Helena Bonham Carter team up for a very funny opening sequence of breaking into Gringotts. Warwick Davis plays a delightfully nasty Griphook, and John Hurt sets a dire tone for the film as Ollivander. Daniel Radcliffe, Alan Rickman, and Ralph Fiennes own the film, as they should, in utterly incredible performances. Rickman's stony features finally crack and his dramatic power is laid bare. Maggie Smith and Julie Walters head the fight for Hogwarts in energetic triumph, and Matthew Lewis leads Neville Longbottom to a rousing victory.

The slow, talky opening at Shell Cottage perfectly bridges from the previous film, and the Gringotts madness quickly picks up the pace. Alexandre Desplat continues his great score, and Steve Kloves (screenwriter for all previous films but Order of the Phoenix) gives us his best script and dialogue yet, considering a film so spread apart in terms of crucial and simultaneous plot points. We see familiar faces and walls -- like the Chamber of Secrets -- but we also see new ones in this final picture, such as the Gray Lady (Brave (2012) star Kelly Macdonald) and the Hogwarts boathouse. All are wonderfully realized and beautifully cinematic, with the possible exception of one: Ciarán Hinds, whom I love, plays a fine but brief Aberforth Dumbledore, whose part is woefully underwritten.

Snape's stylized denouement is brave and emotional; though it doesn't get as detailed as Rowling's description, Yates views it as how it feels, not necessarily what it says. Yates's eye for visuals commands ours in this epic ending, and every moment feels monumental and eternal because he understands the drama of the series so thoroughly. The entire battle of Hogwarts is great, but my favorite moment happens as Harry, Ron, and Hermione fight through the courtyard to get to the boathouse. It's one of the busiest sequences of the film, but it is also one of the most dramatic, as our heroes battle through hell to reach the devil.

Voldemort has more screen time in this film than the others, and Ralph Fiennes owns it. His icy facade degenerates into fiery cruelty as he is forced to face his own mortality. From his bloody massacre of the Gringotts employees to his death-disintegration, we see him painted as a corporeal body, paradoxically both increasingly human and decreasingly human. Keeping with this, Fiennes's movement work here rivals his own in Goblet of Fire. His dilemma makes this film, when we focus on his character, a horror film: Besides its tragic elements of blindness, oversight, and loss, we see his body breaking down, bleeding, and suffering much like ours. His desperate grasps at divinity also reveal themselves in his dialogue. My favorite line of his happens before he kills Snape, telling him, "You've been a good and faithful servant, Severus, but only I can live forever." In this cruel corruption of what all good Christians hope to someday hear (Matthew 25), Voldemort takes his servant's service, life, and hope while attempting to deify himself.

Harry, on the other hand, fulfills his obviously Christ-like role in the series by coming to terms with himself and understanding the sacrifice he must make. In one of (if not the) most emotional twist climaxes in film memory -- which doesn't even feel entirely novel -- Harry learns the secrets of his past and the secrets deep within him. Radcliffe controls the emotions of Harry incredibly well from this scene right through his death, his beautiful conversation with Dumbledore, and his victorious return to life. What else can we say about this film? Only that it may have deserved more awards, but probably couldn't have garnered much more praise.

IMDb: The Deathly Hallows: Part 2 

Harry Potter 5 & 6

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007)
Score: 4 / 5

After Michael Gambon's involvement as Dumbledore, this movie shows that director David Yates is the second best thing to happen to the Harry Potter franchise. He crafts this film as the series game-changer; as his tagline says, "The Rebellion Begins." Yates ushers us into his fresh storytelling style while cranking up the energy and scope of the film in preparation for the remaining films, all of which are much heavier, broader, and more complex than any we've yet seen. Order of the Phoenix is especially noteworthy because Yates and his team adapt their masterful script from Rowling's largest and talkiest book. Dialogue and pacing are both especially strong in this installment, as is Nicholas Hooper's fabulous score (the Umbridge theme and Weasley twins' theme are sheer magic).

Daniel Radcliffe presents us with his best performance yet as he turns Harry into a real person; intensely psychological, his every moment on screen is taut with his unuttered tension. Harry is finally a man (at fifteen years old, weirdly enough), and Radcliffe owns it by showing us that he can and will succeed as a leading man even after this series. Rupert Grint, meanwhile, takes a graceful and mature step back as Ron in a similarly more human performance. Emma Watson, as ever, is perfect. Matthew Lewis (Neville Longbottom) steps up as a significant ensemble member in his biggest screen time since Sorcerer's Stone. A new addition to the student cast, Evanna Lynch skillfully introduces us to the compassionate and nutty Luna Lovegood.

A revamped cast of adults features a stylized Order of the Phoenix: Natalia Tena and George Harris ably (and briefly) step in as Tonks and Kingsley, respectively. Alan Rickman (Snape), Brendan Gleeson (Moody), Mark Williams and Julie Walters (Arthur and Molly Weasley), and David Thewlis (Lupin) reprise their roles in solid supporting fashion, and all feel firmly connected to their characters as they approach the series conclusion. Gary Oldman happily commands a bit more screen time, and becomes a lovingly paternal Sirius before his end. Helena Bonham Carter shows up as a mad Bellatrix Lestrange, alongside the slippery Jason Isaacs and vicious Ralph Fiennes, in a trio of fabulously wicked baddies. Of course, the real highlight of the film is Imelda Staunton's turn as Rowling's best villain. Staunton and Yates turn Dolores Umbridge from the book's deliciously wicked toad into an unbalanced, power-mad sadist; her absolute takeover of Hogwarts is arguably more horrifying than in the book, and Staunton's skill in layering her character is the stuff of nightmares.

Phoenix drips with intelligence from its opening shot. The beauty of the film lies in its details, from the troll-foot umbrella stand in Grimmauld Place to the dust coating the Hog's Head pub. The thestral design is lovely, the new Patronus charms are great, and the Room of Requirement is exciting. In fact, the whole Dumbledore's Army sequence, from their origin in Hogsmeade right through Christmas and getting caught by Umbridge, steals the film as a celebration of youth, independence, and a maturing sense of rebellion. The phenomenal Ministry of Magic sets are arrestingly beautiful, and together with the Room of Requirement make up the most cinematic sets in the series; thankfully, we will see plenty more of the Ministry.

Yates and his team, in setting up the final Potter films, change the wizarding world aesthetic in several noteworthy ways. My favorite is their tool of narration via newspaper, with a lot of exposition being filtered through a heavily stylized medium that becomes a character in itself. They also draw attention to more awkward humor, akin to that in Prisoner but grounded in real adolescent emotions, and find that it works well because it treats the characters as more realistic and psychological beings. And the dialogue still has great heightened moments: "It's like Hogwarts wants us to fight back," Harry declares upon commencing Dumbledore's Army in the memory of past heroes. "If they could do it, why not us?"

Fewer new costumes are introduced here, and the camerawork is simple but solid, but the film features great lighting. Yates carefully controls the atmosphere primarily through lighting and occasionally picturesque visuals, as we see when Dumbledore intervenes in Trelawney's sacking. Atmosphere reaches an ethereal climax in the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecy, where Rowling's chillingly realized descriptions become a veritable maze as chaos descends. The entire final fight is gripping, in fact, from the Death Eaters' appearance through Voldemort's departure; my only complaint is that the combatants fly, which is visually mesmerizing but logistically problematic.

A few less-successful elements fall by the wayside, as none are particularly crucial to this story. The broomstick flight to Grimmauld Place flirts with wizarding legality and feels quite foolhardy. And Grawp feels strangely unnecessary, like a last-minute addition; a shame, because the book allows lots of room for discussion about humans, part-humans, and intelligent creatures between its characters' interactions with house-elves, centaurs, werewolves, and giants. Finally, and most troubling, though Dumbledore and Voldemort star in a spectacular duel, their wands connect briefly. Presumably their wands do not share the same core, and it seems unlikely that Dumbledore would magically induce Voldemort's wand to regurgitate its previous spells, so why does this happen? It seems that other spells used in wizards' duels (as we see in subsequent films, too) produce an effect similar to priori incantatem, or at least Yates wants us to think that because he likes the resulting spectacle.

IMDb: The Order of the Phoenix

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009)

Score: 5 / 5

Director David Yates knocks this one out of the park. Most importantly, this film is one of my favorites simply because it reminds us that these kids are kids and that they are still at school; those little details seem to have gotten lost since Prisoner of Azkaban. This is the first time we see a Potions class (besides Snape's introductory lecture in Sorcerer's Stone), and we thankfully see some great Quidditch again. Sadly, we don't see Snape's Defense against the Dark Arts class, but we got a fair hint of it in Prisoner.

The actors get a bit more stylized in this film, rather like in Prisoner. This is their last go at being students -- at being kids -- and they nail it. I cry through the whole movie, mostly due to its hilarious awkwardness. Daniel Radcliffe (Harry) has been quoted as saying this is his own least favorite performance, but from my seat, he continues his leading-man-material streak from Order of the Phoenix with a campy, comic, and ultimately brutal sense of himself as a young man in a changing world. Emma Watson (Hermione) and Rupert Grint (Ron) follow his lead and excel as lovestruck teenagers in the grips of raging hormones. The other students follow suit in similar patterns: Tom Felton's Draco Malfoy is surprisingly subtle, cruel, and sympathetic in turns; Jessie Cave introduces us to Lavender Brown with stunning energy; and Freddie Stroma shows perfect timing and unnervingly erotic screen presence as Cormac McLaggen. Unfortunately, Bonnie Wright (Ginny Weasley) shows us that she doesn't have what it takes to match the creative abilities of her castmates; her toneless delivery and emotional disconnect reach an all-time low in this, her most screen time in the series.

Michael Gambon (Dumbledore) especially steals the film with his gentle compassion and brave desperation, and he achieves an ethereal quality that I can't quite describe but which deserves more praise than it has received. His sudden, funny appearance, under a "Divine Magic" advertisement slogan, starts him on a dynamic journey that unfortunately ends in tear-jerking slow-mo fashion. Jim Broadbent charms us as Horace Slughorn and his fabulous facial expressions. His parties feature a lot of the awkward that makes this film great; the amount of youthful energy in this film makes up for the whole series' efforts to hurry Harry & Co. into adulthood. Alan Rickman's portrayal of Snape reaches a new height here, and his brooding performance conceals far more than it reveals.

Yates views this film differently than his previous installment; Half-Blood Prince features a dreamlike quality that provides a nice contrast to the more youthful, comedic characters. The intensely graded colors and limited palette make the film uniquely sensual, and the killer lighting filtered through hazy air tells a story all on its own. Cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel layers his shots with dazzling complexity, both rich wideshot visuals as well as crystal clear closeups. His visions are precise and calculated, with only one shot per image, highlighting his economical approach to the series' cinematic masterpiece. Nicholas Hooper again knocks his score out of the park.

I still don't particularly like that Yates has his witches and wizards fly (presumably without broomsticks), but the Death Eater attack at the beginning is spectacular, partly due to the trailing black smoke. When Dumbledore Apparates with Harry, we see a subtly dark, very uncomfortable experience; the revised Pensieve similarly feels strange and edgy. Thus we see that the magic Dumbledore happily uses to clean Slughorn's house in "fun" style is not the only kind of magic at work in this world; fitting, because with the introduction of Half-Blood Prince's dangerous invented spells and Voldemort's Horcruxes, we need to recognize the visceral horror Harry must face.

For arguably the series' darkest film yet, this movie is a mine of comedic gems. Dumbledore's softly camped delivery in his first scene, the longshot up the Weasley staircase as everyone wonders passively where Harry may be, and seeing Weasley's Wizard Wheezes only get the ball rolling. The Potions class is flawless, Ron's bout of drug-induced lovesickness (I'm sorry, but I call it his "drunk in love" scene), Aragog's funeral, and Harry's intoxication by Felix Felicis are some hilarious moments. Comedy gracefully subsides, though, in transcendent scenes such as Harry, Snape, and Dumbledore atop the Astronomy Tower, and of course Voldemort's cave.

The Pensieve memories are similarly great, it's just sad (but a wise move for Yates's team) that we see so few of them. Some have criticized the Death Eaters' attack on the Burrow, but it undoubtedly makes the Death Eaters more dangerous and more personal to the film's audience. My main problem with Half-Blood Prince is the lack of a fight at the end; it seems incredible that the Death Eaters could so easily infiltrate Hogwarts and depart. It's not as if Dumbledore would have left the school unguarded, especially knowing as he did that someone was attempting to assassinate him, and we even see McGonagall shooing students from an open courtyard. So how can the Death Eaters get from the Room of Requirement to the Astronomy Tower, the Great Hall, and out onto the grounds before anyone finally confronts them? It is quite unsatisfying, but Harry's duel with Snape somewhat makes up for it.

IMDb: The Half-Blood Prince

Maleficent (2014)

Score: 3 / 5

Though an increasingly familiar premise, the prospect of a fairytale told from the villain's perspective remains an intriguing incentive to go to the movies. A story centered on one of the most memorable (and truly scary) Disney villains was sure to bring out the legions of dark fantasy fans and supernatural romantics that have multiplied in the last decade or so. Add the talents of Angelina Jolie and Robert Stromberg (special effects artist of Avatar (2009), Alice in Wonderland (2010), and Oz the Great and Powerful (2013)) to the mix, and I was getting excited.

This summer's Maleficent is a solid Disney remake (or, rather, re-imagining) of a Disney film. It certainly doesn't succeed as well as, for example, 101 Dalmatians (1996), but it does surpass Tim Burton's promising and severely disappointing Alice in Wonderland (2010). I would compare its success at re-visioning a classic to Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book (1994) in that it works as a film, but corrupts the source material in surprising and unsatisfactory ways.

Given the film's clever premise and Lana Del Rey's haunting "Once Upon a Dream", I anticipated a very dark 90 minutes. And while Maleficent certainly is dark, it is not intense. It's hardly even tense. Though it hints at twisted motivations and erotic subtext, the film never explores these intrigues. As a PG fantasy adventure, I can't say I expected these things, but I had my hopes. The characters' motivations are murky at best, and the ambiguity is never justified. And the film's tone is a bizarre mess; I feel more confused about the implications of this re-imagining of events now than I did after watching the trailer. If the film was making a statement about living in a moral gray-area or appreciating desperate measures or something, I would be fine with tonal insecurity. But it doesn't make a definitive artistic statement that could lead me to that conclusion.

The film languishes in its own computer-generated beauty, wasting valuable time with long scenic overlooks and fairytale creatures that look like they came out of a video game. Whereas Sleeping Beauty (1959) is largely memorable because of its heavily stylized artwork, Maleficent's setting and action sequences feel like any number of recent fantasy films or video games.

Angelina Jolie, however, doesn't disappoint. Her performance is intense, subtle, vicious, intelligent; she obviously did her homework and comes to this circus ready to fly (literally). How refreshing to see a strong, truly independent woman who is thoroughly feminine and avoids being a "villain". She is a powerful leader, able fighter, and manages to do it all with a black silk nightdress and impeccable makeup. Her costumes are exquisite, ranging from a smoky sheer shroud to an ebony satin cocktail gown topped with a leather headdress. The unsettling combination of soft, smooth, and glittering fabrics provide a lot of room for Jolie to play with her character's power and sexual appeal.

She is not fully evil; indeed, she is hardly depicted as evil at all, which feels dangerously contrived at times. Though I loved the original character's demonic liaisons, this new manifestation works as a result of Jolie's efforts. My one misgiving in the portrayal of Maleficent's character is that she doesn't even curse Aurora to death, but rather to slumber. I suppose that goes along well with helping us believe her growing love for the young princess.

Jolie thoroughly sells the loving (if resentful) mother-role, and brilliantly underscores it with an eroticism that shocked and delighted me. And the true love twist at the end, though recently familiar, was a very welcome plot device. My lasting appreciation to the filmmakers, however, goes to one crucial element of the story: As Maleficent starts to embody a mothering figure to the young Aurora, she retains all of her strongest character traits. Maleficent is the feminist equivalent of a Marvel superhero, you might say. Too bad this woman has to exist in a fantasy world while the Avengers are allowed into modern reality.

One final thought: I now crave a film tribute to Tallulah Bankhead. Three women come to mind who have proven themselves worthy to portray the goddess: Angelina Jolie, Glenn Close, and Cate Blanchett.
Think about it. You're welcome.

IMDb: Maleficent