The Matrix

Year: 1999 (Matrix), 2003 (Matrix Reloaded), (Matrix Revolutions)
Running time: 136 minutes (Matrix), 138 minutes (Matrix Reloaded), 129 minutes (Matrix Revolutions)
Certificate: 15
Language: English
Screenplay: The Wachowskis
Directors: The Wachowskis
Starring: Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne, Carrie-Anne Moss, Hugo Weaving, Joe Pantoliano, Marcus Chong, Julian Arahanga, Matt Doran, Belinda McClory, Anthony Ray Parker, Gloria Foster, Lambert Wilson, Monica Bellucci, Helmut Bakaitis, Ian Bliss, Collin Chou, Randall Duk Kim, Jada Pinkett Smith, Nathaniel Lees, Harry Lennix, Harold Perrineau, Clayton Watson, Anthony Zerbe, Adrian Rayment, Neil Rayment, Mary Alice, Bruce Spence


Neo and Agent Smith go head to head.

The Matrix was a film that literally came out of nowhere in 1999. Everyone was anticipating the first of the Star Wars prequels, and a month or two before The Phantom Menace landed, this film came out and blew everybody’s socks off. More than ten years later, and everything from the concept, through the ground-breaking effects and cinematography, to the sound and music is still astonishing.

Keanu Reeves is Thomas Anderson, an entirely normal person, if a little empty. Mr. Anderson is not empty simply because he is being played by Reeves, who is not known for his emoting (although I've never found him to be as dreadful as many others seem to), but because he has an alter-ego in the virtual world, where he goes by the name of Neo. Neo has a feeling that something isn't quite right with the world, a feeling many people in our own real world share. Neo is searching the online world for an answer, an answer which finds him and blows his mind, as well as ours.


Agents in green.

Neo's world, it turns out, isn't real. Sometime in the past, humanity has lost a war against machines, machines that now control us completely, using us as a source of power while placing us in a virtual reality to blind us to the desolate truth. Neo is 'rescued' from this charade by Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne), a kind of Yoda of the human resistance and made a member of his crew. Morpheus informs Neo that he believes him to be the savior of humanity and trains him to be a digital superhero. Neo must learn to defeat Agent Smith (Hugo Weaving), an unstoppable man in black out to stamp out the humans wherever they hack into the Matrix. Smith is one of the best things about the film, with Weaving's delivery of a speech which, possibly quite correctly, equates humans to a cancer infecting the planet, genuinely unsettling. 

The action set-pieces are amazing, culminating in both the shoot-out in the lobby set to the Propellerheads and the all-out punch-up in the underground train station, which has a bit of a spaghetti western feeling about it. It is, however, the designing and creating of an entirely new effect, called ‘bullet-time’ that really raised the bar for visual effects. Nowadays, the effect has been copied poorly by so many other things, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer to Deuce Bigalow and Shrek, that some of the shine has worn off, but the first time I saw the camera swoop around and underneath Neo as the bullets fly past in slow motion I, like everyone else in the cinema, was gobsmacked.


Bullet-time: gobsmacking.

The blending of a futuristic kung-fu movie with a deeply cerebral philosophical idea for the premise is something that makes The Matrix unique among its contemporaries. There are a number of people I know who cannot stand the film because they are unable to grasp the ideas regarding the potentially unstable nature of reality which every individual may well perceive differently. It can, however, still be enjoyed on a simpler level – a cracking action movie.

Then, of course, there are the sequels. Anticipation for The Matrix Reloaded was at a fever pitch, which meant it would inevitably disappoint. On my first watching, I must admit I fell for it and loved it utterly, declaring it to be better than the original. Time and common sense has since caused me to re-evaluate that opinion.

The one.  Or one of them, at least.

Neo is under pressure to get to grips with his new powers to enable him to save humanity from a machine horde advancing on the real world human stronghold of Zion. Agent Smith is now a rogue virus replicating himself and infecting the Matrix.

All the ingredients are in the right place; the vamped-up special effects (the whole middle section, from the mega-brawl in which Neo takes on hundreds of Agent Smiths, through the fight against the Merovingian's (Lambert Wilson) henchman, to the phenomenal highway chase is action-movie heaven), the expanding of the universe, and the same blend of action and philosophy (although the philosophy is not half as profound as in the first film with the Merovingian prattling on about cause and effect while giving some woman an orgasm with a cake). The fact that the finale is an extremely technical and complicated conversation with an old man doesn't really help matters, but even here, you need to respect the Wachowskis and their ballsy decision to go in this direction with their multi million dollar sequel, which although against all logical rules of big-budget film making, kind of fits, and the revelation that Neo is by no means the first 'one' is a cool twist. The Wachowskis had told us that this was the story they had always wanted to tell, and that the first movie was just an origin story to help us understand what was going on, meaning this was no shameless cash-in. Also, the idea of the rogue programs hiding out within the Matrix like outlaws, refusing to report for deletion, was a smart one. The reason it crashed and burned is down to the difference between allegory and applicability, as J.R.R. Tolkien would well know. Allow me to explain.

Trinity, blowing shit up.

In the introduction to The Fellowship of the Ring in recently published versions, there is a piece written by Tolkien denying that the War of the Ring in his epic story was about World War 2. It is an obvious comparison to make; it was written at about the same time. However, Tolkien argued that writing a story allegorically, so that it was actually about a specific thing, meant that it would soon be irrelevant. Writing a story that is applicable, like The Lord of the Rings, means it will forever be in our hearts and minds. Basically, everyone can relate to Frodo and his quest, because everyone has, at some time in their life felt like the young hobbit. Obviously, this doesn’t mean we’ve taken a cursed ring to a volcano. What it means is that we have all been daunted by something that we need to overcome. We’ve all lost hope at some point, because whatever we are trying to do, wherever we are trying to get to is just so far away as to be impossible, but all we can do is continue, one step at a time. Ask my wife about her 57-hour labour, and you might get some idea. We are able to apply the way Frodo feels to our own experiences, and therefore, his quest has a meaning that is personal to all of us. This, above all other things, is why The Lord of the Rings is so loved.


Neo and Agent Smith go head to head, again.

Now apply that theory to The Matrix trilogy. Neo is a regular person, like anyone. We have all experienced what Neo feels in The Matrix. Again, not literally – the world isn’t a virtual version of itself run by machines (at least, I don’t think so, but really, how would we know if it was?) – but we have all had our perception of the world turned upside-down, forcing us to re-evaluate everything we thought was truth – in storytelling they call it paradigm shift. When it happens in reality it is on a small scale, not like it happens to Neo, but some kind of awakening that makes us view the world in a new light; maybe having your first baby, or falling in love for the first time. We can relate to Neo when he is struggling to adjust, to rewire his thinking, we can apply our own experiences to him and know how he feels. Just like Frodo, Neo’s experience takes on a personal meaning to us. When we come back for the sequel, we are unable to relate to Neo anymore. We don’t know what it’s like to feel the pressure of being the saviour of the world, or to have super powers. Neo has evolved beyond us and there is nothing in our own lives that we can apply to make Neo’s journey mean anything to us. Yes, it is still cerebral and philosophical, yes, there are still amazing effects and lots of action, but without the deeper relatable undertone it will not feel the same to us.

Swarming sentinels.

So, taking The Matrix Reloaded on face value, forgetting about how the original made us feel, it’s really a pretty good kung-fu sci-fi movie, with added philosophical musings on the nature of the universe, humanity and love. And action set-pieces that are among the most impressive ever put on film.

The Matrix Revolutions, however, while not utterly dreadful, is certainly the most mediocre of the three. Acting was never the strong point in these films, but the performances in the final part are downright diabolical. Neo and Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss) never did have much chemistry, but by the third film the lack of spark between the two ‘lovers’ is embarrassing. Maybe no-one can understand the philosophy-heavy dialogue anymore, so they don’t know how to deliver their lines convincingly.

The good news is the effects are as astonishing as ever, and the scenes of the sentinels swarming throughout Zion are jaw-dropping. The final showdown between Neo and Agent Smith is huge and Jesus (sorry, I mean Neo) is finally able to save his species by sacrificing himself to take out Smith, who is just as much a threat to the machines as he is to the humans.

Try to remember The Matrix as something really special, and try not to let the sequels, particularly the third movie, ruin that memory.

Score:

The Matrix: 9/10

The Matrix Reloaded: 6/10

The Matrix Revolutions: 5/10

There is a lot of mixed opinion about these films out there, for example Jennie at Eye for Film couldn't stand The Matrix, while Ian at Empire is more on my wavelength. The Matrix Reloaded is actually better thought of than I expected, as illustrated by both Rodney at Fernby Films' and Colin at Empire's reviews. While the final part generally does less well, evidenced by Rodney at Fernby Films again, it still has its fans, such as SFAM at Cyberpunk Reviews.

Fargo

Year: 1996
Running time: 98 minutes
Certificate: 18
Language: English
Screenplay: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen
Directors: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen
Starring: Frances McDormand, William H. Macy, Steve Buscemi, Peter Stormare

Marge is on the case.

The Coen brothers are well known for their clouding of the truth (just look at the interviews they gave for A Serious Man, in particular the questions regarding it being somewhat autobiographical), so the fact that Fargo opens with ‘A true story’ should be taken with a truckload of salt. It almost certainly isn’t true. What it is, however, is fabulous, a trait shared with many Coens' films.

Jerry Lundergaard (William H. Macy) is a below-average car salesman who, desperate for cash, arranges for the kidnap of his wife Jean (Kristin Rudrud) in order to score some ransom money from her father Wade (Harve Presnell), a belligerent and successful businessman. The two men Lundergaard hires are Carl Showalter (Steve Buscemi) and Gaear Grimsrud (Peter Stormare) and they are anything but competent and things begin to spiral badly out of control almost from the beginning. Showalter and Grimsrud are not at all alike - one talks too much, the other hardly says anything, and it is clear from the outset their plan is doomed to failure. Grimsrud commits a shocking and grisly murder on the road at night, scaring his partner in crime, leaving the bodies for the police to find the next morning.

It's then we meet the star of the show, heavily pregnant police chief Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand). She has such a sunny disposition despite the biting cold and ghastly murder trails she cleverly follows all the way back to Lundergaard, that you can't fail to love her. The accents are distinctive but don't get annoying, being just another Coens peculiarity that adds to the appeal, like the bizarre character names.

How do you ever hope to find it again Carl?

It’s a joy to watch the great cast in every blackly comic scene, and everyone delivers – William H. Macy excels as usual as the bumbling Lundergaard, and also Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare as the nervous, angry Showalter and the quietly psychotic Grimsrud, but the standout is definitely the wonderful Frances McDormand’s Marge Gunderson.

As the plan unravels, things go from bad to worse as the desperate Showalter leaves a trail of bodies and buries his share of the money under the snow, before realising the landscape is so unchanging he's likely never to find it again. The Coens do enjoy killing off Buscemi's characters whenever he turns up in one of their films, and Showalter's end in Fargo is perhaps his most memorable Coens death yet.

It is also filmed exquisitely. The bleak all-white scenery is striking, often leaving the screen bereft of detail – an effect which is strangely beautiful and illuminates how alone and removed from everyday reality these characters are.

Near perfect.

Score: 9/10

Most people, including Roger Ebert and David at The Hollywood Reporter seem to agree regarding Fargo's brilliance.

Casshern

Year: 2004
Running time: 142 minutes
Certificate: 15
Language: Japanese
Screenplay: Kazuaki Kiriya, Dai Sato, Shotaro Suga
Director: Kazuaki Kiriya

Starring: Yusuke Iseya, Kumiko Aso, Akira Terao, Kanako Hiquichi, Hiroyuki Miyasako, Mayumi Sada, Jun Kaname

Better times.

I’ve been struggling to think what to say about Casshern for some time. I have been trying to decide whether I like it or not, or more precisely, whether I understand it or not. My first thought was simply to have ‘Eh?’ as the entire review, but on reflection, there is more to say.

First off, unless I’m incredibly stupid there is one very simple message behind Casshern and all of its complexities, and that is that war is bad. Really bad. Not good. At all. Many stories make a similar point, but I guarantee you that no film has made the point in quite this way before. Adapted from a 1973 anime, the set up is truly great, if complex. I'll try to cover the basics. The world of the future is simply a seemingly endless war between two superpowers, and even when that war is technically over after 50 years, the victor is struggling to suppress pockets of resistance and, more urgently, the human race has been brought to the brink of self-annihilation, and is unable to repopulate the planet. Cue scientist Dr. Kotaro Azuma (Akira Terao), who is developing a way to rebuild humanity using techniques involving rejuvenating the body parts of the dead that are rather dodgy, ethically speaking.

All hail the victor.

An unexplained and inexplicable bolt of lightning (which seems to become a solid structure) causes life to emerge from the raw material in the lab (whole humanoids, not just parts, somehow), life which is promptly destroyed by the military, apart from Akubon (Hiroyuki Miyasako), Sagure (Mayumi Sada) and Barashin (Jun Kaname), who manage to escape. Dr. Azuma then brings back his son Tetsuya (Yusuke Iseya), killed in the aforementioned war, who makes use of a newly designed super-suit to become the superhuman Casshern to fight for humankind against the robot army randomly discovered by Akubon and co. But remember, war is bad. So there is less distinction than you might think between which side is supposed to be good, and which is bad. Because war is bad, which means each side is as bad as the other, and the true heroes are the ones that finally realise this and are able to stop the killing and forgive the wrong that was done to them. Of course, they usually have to die for this to happen. The story is actually far more complex than that, but I don’t want to spoil the fun of working out for yourself exactly what the hell is going on.

The place where Casshern falls down the most, I feel, is in the one on one fight scenes, where the two opponents try to out-pose each other first while some awful techno-rock is playing, then when the fights start they have that Pokémon / Beyblade look, and when Casshern is running up buildings and the like, he looks rather like Sonic the Hedgehog, only not blue. Obviously, the filmmakers didn’t have the hugest budget, but I think that these moments are a little over-stylised – to the point of being cartoony, and not in the cool Manga way I think they were going for.

Casshern, being dramatic.

However, it's not all negative. The moral, although being a tad simplistic (ironic considering the ridiculously random complexity), is an honourable one, and the consequences of humankind’s insistence on forever being at war with itself are appropriately tragic. The price that all of the characters pay for their deeds is truly devastating. But the thing about Casshern that will undoubtedly bring me back to watch again is that it is one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen. Excepting the fight scenes mentioned earlier, every frame, every background, every moment has an astonishing mix of colour, style and CG wizardry. In particular, there is a scene in which Tetsuya and his love interest Luna (Kumiko Aso) converse where different visual styles are used to portray each character's viewpoint which is spellbindingly gorgeous to look at.

So, on reflection, I think I did like it after all.

Score: 7/10

Scribble King liked it more than me, but the Massie Twins weren't particularly impressed.

Sunshine

Year: 2007
Running time: 107 minutes
Certificate: 15
Language: English
Screenplay: Alex Garland
Director: Danny Boyle
Starring: Cillian Murphy, Chris Evans, Michelle Yeoh, Rose Byrne, Troy Garity, Hiroyuki Sanada, Benedict Wong, Mark Strong

Face to face with the giver of life.

Sunshine is a great idea for a film. Set in the future (although only 2057, which has the effect of making it recognisably still our world (so to speak) but so inconceivable as to be impossible to completely suspend disbelief), it centres around a mission to save our dying sun. Robert Capa (Cillian Murphy) is plagued by disturbing and disjointed visions, so it's no stretch to guess that it soon turns into a Shining / Alien / Event Horizon cross-over, as our intrepid crew face starvation, sabotage and a growing insanity as they glide ever closer to our star. Things get worse when they come into contact with the ship from the previous failed attempt and meet crazy ex-captain Pinbacker (Mark Strong) who has made the same mistake the ancient Inca civilisation did and turned the sun into a god and is now intent on killing everyone. Unfortunately, it’s neither as good as its central idea nor any of the films it is influenced by, which is a shame, as Danny Boyle is certainly a director that is usually reliable and should be able to pull it off. Like Kubrick, he seems to be on a mission to make a classic film in every genre. Unfortunately, he'll have to take another stab at sci-fi some other time.

Clearly no idea what's going on either.

One of the reasons it falls short may be budgetary, as although most of the effects are very impressive, particularly for a measly $40 million, there are some moments where it just looks and feels a bit, for want of a better word, cheap. As the story comes to its climax, it becomes increasingly hard to follow what’s going on. I’m not one that usually has to have it spelled out for me, but the last 15 minutes are just a collection of images that are incoherent. Maybe the idea is that your own mind is supposed to be flying apart, like the characters', but I just lost interest.

Nowhere near as good as it could, or should have been.

Score: 5/10

Roger Ebert rather liked it, but Bill had similar problems to me.

There Will Be Blood

Year: 2007
Running time: 158 minutes
Certificate: 15
Language: English
Screenplay: Paul Thomas Anderson
Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Daniel Day-Lewis, Paul Dano, Dillon Freasier, Kevin J. O'Connor

Plainview makes his case.

There is something special about Daniel Day-Lewis. When he inhabits a role, he appears to genuinely live it, be it Bill the Butcher in Scorsese's Gangs of New York (which he is by far the best thing in), Last of the Mohicans' Hawkeye or any of his other all-too-rare roles. He has an uncanny knack of making many of the characters he plays iconic. His Daniel Plainview, the 'hero' of Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood has, for me, gone to the top of that short list.

Plainview is greed personified, his entire reason for being the acquisition of wealth; amoral and utterly without conscience. Especially in the first mostly dialogue-free 30 minutes, as he goes from scrabbling for small nuggets of silver to burgeoning oil baron, he is mesmerising, and you can't help but admire his willful perseverance, despite coming to loathe every other thing about him. There Will Be Blood could be seen as the story of the birth of American corporate greed, with Plainview pursuing the business of oil with a single-minded intensity that is uncomfortable to watch. When a partner dies in a horrifying accident early on, leaving behind an orphaned baby, Plainview takes on the care of the child HW (Dillon Freasier) not because of any moral reasons or any sense of duty or respect to his lost partner, but because he can see a potential way to use the boy to his advantage.

Knowing he's outmatched, Eli over-compensates.

Coming to California looking for cheap, oil-rich land following a tip off from Paul Sunday (Paul Dano), Plainview locks horns with Paul's preacher brother Eli (also Dano), opposing him on behalf of his small community. It isn't long before it becomes clear that corruption also runs deep in Eli, and he simply wants to be the community's alpha male, and seeing the charismatic Plainview gaining influence over his flock, does all he can to frustrate him, regardless of what it might cost others. His faith seems to clearly be an act, and such conniving fakery makes him as unpleasant as Plainview, and you can't decide who disgusts you more. Dano does his best, but it is clear he's not in the same league as Day-Lewis. Luckily this actually works to the film's advantage, as Eli wilts in the face of Plainview's intensity and it's clear he'll never get the best of the man. As examples of the early roots of corrupt capitalism and corrupt religiosity it is extremely effective, and exposes much of the human greed both things are built upon.

Plainview's oil burns away into the night.

Despite having no-one to really root for, the conflict between the two men is absorbing and the visuals are captivating. There is a scene in which an accident causes an explosion and a fire which is both upsetting and beautiful to behold. The young boy HW is caught in the explosion and loses his hearing. Terrified and desperate for reassurance, he clings to Plainview as if his life depended on it (which he surely thinks it does), but the monster of a man cannot leave him behind fast enough to get to his precious oil, burning away into the night. It's heartbreaking to watch. And yet, as Plainview stands silhouetted, watching the fire burn, the red glow and smoke gives the impression of curving round the lens into a suggestion of a baleful eye, completely unnatural and an unforgettable image, possible only in the medium of cinema.

When a man turns up claiming to be Plainview's half brother Henry (Kevin J. O'Connor), it seems there is a small chance for the man to show a little decency, but upon discovery of fraud his despicable and unforgiving side returns to the fore more powerful than ever.

The ending is about as grim as these characters deserve. Desperate for cash, Eli attempts to make a deal with the now obscenely rich Plainview, only to meet a ghastly death at the hands of the dreadful man. Considering himself beyond the reach of the law (much like today's corporate giants and oil magnates), he doesn't even try to hide the fact of the murder from his butler. The final image of him, sat next to Eli's body, the words "I'm finished" falling from his mouth illustrates better than any other shot the sheer loneliness of a self-serving existence such as his. It's doubtful the inhuman creature even realises his life is missing anything.

With a sickening but captivating turn from Day-Lewis at its heart, this is beautiful but disturbing, cinema distilled into its purest form.

Score: 9/10

Helen at Empire feels as I do, but Bill would say we over-rate it just slightly.

Little Miss Sunshine

Year: 2006
Running time: 101 minutes
Certificate: 15
Language: English
Screenplay: Michael Arndt
Directors: Jonathan Dayton, Valerie Faris
Starring: Abigail Breslin, Greg Kinnear, Toni Collette, Paul Dano, Steve Carell, Alan Arkin

Olive is full of excitement.

Another day, another indie movie about a dysfunctional family. And yet, like Juno, The Royal Tenenbaums, Napoleon Dynamite and Donnie Darko (all completely different, yet all have a barely functioning family unit at their hearts), Little Miss Sunshine still manages to be engaging and original. Set around a family's road trip to enter their young daughter into the Little Miss Sunshine pageant, there's almost nothing but arguing and complaining throughout the entire trip, but you still find yourself liking them. Each character is self-involved almost to the point of ignoring everything and everyone else and it's a testament to the performances and the writing that you find yourself forgiving each character their faults and sympathising with their plights.

Sheryl Hoover (Toni Collette) is the mother barely able to hold the family unit together, her husband Richard (Greg Kinnear) investing everything into marketing his self-improvement technique, which he finds difficult due to the fact that it clearly doesn't work. Dwayne (Paul Dano) is the miserable son who has taken a vow of silence until he achieves his ambition of being a jet pilot. The granddad Edwin (Alan Arkin) is a favourite of mine, working on dance routines with his grand-daughter Olive (Abigail Breslin) and giving life advice to Dwayne ("Fuck a lot of women.") Into this Sheryl brings her brother Frank (Steve Carell), who has recently attempted to commit suicide after losing his lover and his professional reputation.

There are moments of both comedy and drama on the road, but the moment that sticks with me is when Dwayne finds out he is colourblind, which prevents him from ever realising his pilot dream. He breaks his vow of silence in an outpouring of grief which takes the form of scathing criticism of his entire family. Dano does an impressive job of expressing the frustration of a young man stung by the unfairness of life, denied the only thing that means anything to him. Perhaps this is why he is the first to see the inevitably disastrous result of his little sister's attempt to become Little Miss Sunshine - his own problems no longer consume all of his energies and he opens his eyes to those around him.

Olive's family come together in support.

Despite them apparently hating each other, the ending is oddly touching, as they all come together in support of Olive to save her from ridicule and embarrassment. The film does a grand job of staying funny and at the same time showing just how disturbingly sinister and disgusting the pre-teen beauty queen market in America is. On the surface it appears to be wholesome and sugar-coated, but there is an ugly undercurrent that reeks of displaying the young competitors as adults and all the sexuality that implies. It seems odd to inflict such a psychological torture upon one's supposedly treasured offspring.

Highlighting this hypocrisy is the moment when Abigail does an overtly sexual dance routine (which is strangely hilarious), shocking the judges. At the same time the other young girls walk around in make-up or are prancing about in swimsuits. The judges are likely upset at being faced with the truth buried underneath 'innocent' pageants like these. When it is simmering under the surface while pretending innocence it's all the more disturbing.

A quality comedy which shows how often the most mismatched family will come together in support when it's required.

Score: 7/10

Angie at Empire and I are on the same page, but Peter at The Guardian sees something different.

Harry Potter

Year: 2001 (Philosopher's Stone), 2002 (Chamber of Secrets), 2004 (Prisoner of Azkaban), 2005 (Goblet of Fire), 2007 (Order of the Phoenix), 2009 (Half-Blood Prince), 2010 (Deathly Hallows: Part One), 2011 (Deathly Hallows: Part Two)
Running time: 152 minutes (Philosopher's Stone), 161 minutes (Chamber of Secrets), 141 minutes (Prisoner of Azkaban), 157 minutes (Goblet of Fire), 138 minutes (Order of the Phoenix), 153 minutes (Half-Blood Prince), 146 minutes (Deathly Hallows: Part One), 130 minutes (Deathly Hallows: Part Two)
Certificate: PG (Philosopher's Stone), (Chamber of Secrets), (Prisoner of Azkaban), 12 (Goblet of Fire), (Order of the Phoenix), (Half-Blood Prince), (Deathly Hallows: Part One), (Deathly Hallows: Part Two)
Language: English
Screenplay: Steve Kloves (Philosopher's Stone), (Chamber of Secrets), (Prisoner of Azkaban), (Goblet of Fire), (Half-Blood Prince), (Deathly Hallows: Part One), (Deathly Hallows: Part Two), Michael Goldenberg (Order of the Phoenix)
Director: Chris Columbus (Philosopher's Stone), (Chamber of Secrets), Alfonso Cuaron (Prisoner of Azkaban), Mike Newell (Goblet of Fire), David Yates (Order of the Phoenix), (Half-Blood Prince), (Deathly Hallows: Part One), (Deathly Hallows: Part Two)
Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Robbie Coltrane, Richard Harris, Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman, Tom Felton, Oliver Phelps, James Phelps, Julie Walters, Bonnie Wright, Matthew Lewis, Devon Murray, John Hurt, Warwick Davis, John Cleese, Richard Griffiths, David Bradley, Fiona Shaw, Ian Hart, Harry Melling, Toby Jones, Mark Williams, Jason Isaacs, Kenneth Branagh, Shirley Henderson, Pam Ferris, Gary Oldman, Robert Hardy, David Thewlis, Michael Gambon, Emma Thompson, Timothy Spall, David Tennant, Stanislav Ianevski, Katie Leung, Clemence Poesy, Brendan Gleeson, Miranda Richardson, Ralph Fiennes, Robert Pattinson, Natalia Tena, Imelda Staunton, Evanna Lynch, Helena Bonham Carter, Dave Legeno, Jim Broadbent, Helen McCrory, Bill Nighy, Peter Mullan, Rhys Ifans, Samuel Roukin, Kelly Macdonald

Dave.

There are a few things to get out the way before going on. First, there are huge spoilers in this review. I know the warning at the top of the page says there are always spoilers, but these are big ones. That said, if you've not read the books or seen the films but find yourself reading this review, you should be asking yourself why. Second, I feel no shame in admitting myself a big fan of J. K. Rowling's series, its 'for kids' status notwithstanding. The world, the mysteries, the layers, and above all the characters are among the most wonderful I've ever spent time with. If you don't agree, again you should ask yourself why you're bothering to read this. Now, onward...

Only the first year, and the kids already have the facial expressions down.

When Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was first released it was automatically compared to The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. In all honesty, there really isn't anything that can compete with The Lord of the Rings and to compare the two was, frankly, unfair to the Harry Potter series.

Having said that, the films do have a fair bit going for them. Like the books, the idea (and it's a truly great one) is that the target audience grows up along with Harry, and to achieve that the earlier ones are more youngster-friendly, while the later ones add complexity and darkness. With the first film it was more important that the central trio looked the part rather than show any genuine acting talent. Even so, the child acting is at times abysmal, save the always funny Rupert Grint who gets by on comic timing and the faces he pulls, which distract from the fact that he is as bad at delivering lines as his peers. The kids do much better in the more casual scenes, and dreadfully bad in the more serious moments. The time Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) and Ron (Grint) first meet Hermione (Emma Watson) on the Hogwarts Express is the best-acted scene the three leads can manage - the line "You've got dirt on your nose, by the way. Did you know? Just there" is delivered nicely and Ron's face in response helps to make the scene pretty funny.

The effects are also poor, in particular the on-broom stuff and the copious use of unconvincing digital doubles make the action underwhelming. The cream of British acting talent are clearly having a ball, which helps you to overlook the quality of the effects and the use-the-clues-to-solve-the-mystery element to the story keeps things ticking along well enough. When a franchise stretches to seven books and eight films, the only real point of the first part is to set up the world, characters and enough background information to help the viewer understand what's going on, and Philosopher's Stone does that without too much trouble. The slightly creepy climax also hints at the darkness to come.

Harry takes on Tom Riddle.

Chamber of Secrets expands on the clue-hunting and mystery-solving style set up in Philosopher's Stone, with Harry hearing strange voices and a magic diary of past student Tom Riddle revealing more of Hagrid's (Robbie Coltrane) back story. Some of the faults are still here - in particular the acting from the kids is still poor, and the film is overlong (Chamber of Secrets is the longest film, yet second shortest book in the franchise). The effects, however, have improved a great deal. Like its predecessor, Chamber of Secrets is aimed at a younger generation, but even so things are a fair bit scarier this time around, three examples of which are the spider den (with sound effects that are just horribly creepy), petrification and the climatic battle to the death with the huge snake monster. Even some of the comedy revolves around the ghost of a young schoolgirl (Moaning Myrtle, played by Shirley Henderson) who was murdered haunting the toilets. So, darker than it may first appear, and with a meatier storyline.

Kenneth Branagh pops in for a spell (geddit?) and steals the show a little as the highly irritating Gilderoy Lockhart, the supposedly brilliant, brave and beautiful new teacher taking over the cursed post of Defence Against the Dark Arts, who turns out to be not a bit like he wants to be portrayed. Director Chris Columbus did okay, but when he mishandles certain scenes (such as not-as-creepy-as-they-should-be moments listening to the disembodied voice talking of killing everyone that only Harry can hear) you can't help but wonder what someone like Spielberg would have made of the films.

Prisoner of Azkaban is the favourite volume of many a fan, and it's not hard to see why. Harry's third year is full of menace, with rumours of a notorious murderer on the run and looking for him. Hogwarts is no longer a place of blue sky and sunshine, and instead buckets of rain fall from an overcast sky, and the place is surrounded by frightening dementors (creatures that can literally suck the happiness out of you before consuming your soul in a 'Dementor's Kiss' - how is that any less scary than any number of adult fantasy and horror stories?).

Snape puts himself in harm's way.

There are a number of new additions, most notably David Thewlis as Remus Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Timothy Spall as the traitorous Peter Pettigrew (although, he's actually been here all along as Ron's pet) and the phenomenal Gary Oldman as the eponymous prisoner, who, as usual, is not what he first seems. Another new face was that of Michael Gambon, taking over the half-moon spectacles of Dumbledore; Harry's guide, protector and mentor following the death of Richard Harris. Harris did seem a good fit for the role, and kudos should be given to Gambon for not simply aping the style Harris had set and instead forging ahead with his own interpretation of the character. I do in fact prefer Dumbledore as Gambon plays him, as there is more of a suggestion of hidden strength under the gray hair, whereas Harris often came across as looking simply frail, albeit with wisdom.

Calling in a new director for the third film was a wise decision. As mentioned, Chris Columbus did well enough with the first two, which are quite similar in tone, but we are beginning to move out of kid's film territory here, and Alfonso Cauron is a fine choice, showing with his Spanish language Y Tu Mama Tambien that he has an intuitive understanding of teenagers and their conflicting emotions. This is one thing the Potter stories I have found pull off brilliantly well - combining the troubles of being a hormonal teenager with the troubles of being 'the boy who lived' - there is often some uncertainty as to which is the most daunting to Harry.

The Goblet chooses the competitors.

Goblet of Fire is also one of the most popular of the novels, and, as is the trend, it goes darker and scarier. The terms and classes structure of the previous films takes a back seat to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, for which Harry is unwittingly chosen. This makes for some grand set-pieces, with the particular standout being Harry versus the big, angry dragon, which, thanks to some top quality effects, great direction from Mike Newell and much-improved acting from Radcliffe, is the closest this series comes in the first four films to truly stunning cinema. The other kids are also getting the hang of 'proper' acting, with all of them getting a good handle on the Yule Ball scenes. Grint, as always, is streets ahead with the comedy though.

With the introduction of other schools of magic in Europe, there is, for the first time, a broader message about disparate peoples coming together to face a common enemy, but deep down it's still all about the main three, and particularly Harry, which makes the whole thing remain emotionally engaging - it is, after all, Harry, Ron and Hermione who form the core, and it is always them we care about the most.

The climax of the film is like the book - nothing short of astonishing. When Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes, who nails just the right mix of psychosis and insanity) finally takes shape and becomes something more substantial than a whisper or a preserved memory (complete with blood and severed body parts - and this is still supposed to be just for children?), the whole tone of the series shifts dramatically. We're no longer on a small scale, with Harry's goal simply to make it through school, but it becomes larger, something that smacks of epic proportions. It is the cold-blooded murder of defenceless schoolboy Cedric Diggory (Robert Pattinson, pre-Twilight) that truly brings home the magnitude of the shift - simply being a child is not going to save you here; nobody is safe.



In the series of books, Order of the Phoenix is considered something of a letdown. While it is overlong, I still find it a decent read. It does seem to work better as a film, however, Michael Goldenberg's script (the only one not scripted by Steve Cloves) trimming the occasionally plodding pace of the novel into a story so streamlined it simply does not pause for breath. Order of the Phoenix was Rowling's political novel, taking a vicious pot-shot at the New Labour government. Harry and Dumbledore are alienated for speaking the truth about Voldemort's return thanks to the authority-backed tabloid spin, and Hogwarts is subjected to countless petty rules and regulations that mean nothing, but are enforced with sadistic glee by Dumbledore's replacement, evil in pink Dolores Umbridge (played brilliantly by Imelda Staunton). The three young leads continue to come into their own, a world away from their shockingly wooden beginnings.

Luna Lovegood: wiser than she appears.

It's around here that Ron's younger sister Ginny (Bonnie Wright) develops as Harry's love interest, which is certainly a surprise, because she's been in it since the beginning with nary a hint of interest from Harry. Given a moment to think about it, I find it to be a really neat touch by Rowling, because it illustrates the complete unpredictability of love. Ron and Hermione starting to show more than a passing interest in each other is quite the opposite and entirely unsurprising, but in a good way. A favourite character of mine, Luna Lovegood appears here for the first time and is beautifully played by Ivanna Lynch, who gets Luna's mix of strangeness and wisdom exactly right.

The sense of fear and mounting menace is palpable, and new director David Yates handles the different strands of comedy, action and tension well. The climax is well constructed as the Order face off against the Death Eaters with Dumbledore's Army caught in the middle, and this time it's Helena Bohnam Carter as the demented Bellatrix Lestrange who steals the show. It's a shame they jettisoned some of the really weird stuff from the novel's climax, but going for the more straightforward action angle is understandable and works fine.

The ending is genuinely heartbreaking, with Harry not only losing his last remaining family member, but following an almighty duel, watching Dumbledore kneeling before Harry as Voldemort invades his mind, beseeching him to hold on, but powerless to help, is a moment that is resoundingly impactful.

The plot rolls on and the sense of dread continues to build in The Half-Blood Prince, which follows established form by going darker and nastier with a more frightening climax. This novel was the pause for breath before the big finale and the decision to use it to fill in Voldemort's back story could easily have been a jarring change of pace. While it's certainly more considered and slow-burning when compared to the break-neck pace of Order of the Phoenix, the tone is similar thanks to the retention of David Yates as director, who sees the series through to the end. This sees a welcome continuation of style, as I see the final three books as a set in a similar way to the first two, although a world away from the lightness of the opening chapters. This evolving style is something that might have derailed a different franchise, but here it is a strength, due to the way the stories adapt to their aging target audience.

There is plenty of Gambon's Dumbledore along with newcomer Jim Broadbent as Horace Slughorn, the potions professor with a secret that could prove to be Voldemort's undoing. Watching the two established thespians clearly enjoying the outlandish material is great fun and ensures the slightly overlong running time (a problem with Steve Cloves as screenwriter that besets half of the films in the franchise) passes without the viewer losing patience. Also impressive is Tom Felton as Draco Malfoy, who outperforms the other kids and handles the increased complexity of Draco's character with ease. Despite the increasing darkness of the series, there is still room for moments of comedy, involving a drunk Hagrid and Ron, who finds his libido, including a particularly funny sketch involving mishaps with love potions.

Dumbledore flexes his magical muscles.

Much has been made of the endings to the books and films, and following the steady tempo and building menace, the climax to The Half-Blood Prince is an electrifyingly sudden change of pace into high gear. Harry and Dumbledore attempt to destroy one of Voldemort's horcruxes (items in which he's hidden parts of his soul, making him immortal, assuming they're not all found and destroyed) in one of the creepiest, most frightening and lightless set-pieces of the franchise. The moment when Harry witnesses his last remaining role model blown off the top of the school is excruciatingly emotional, and such a shock (assuming you're one of the few people who didn't already know) you're left stunned. In the cinema, I could hear people muttering "But he's going to get up again, isn't he?" in astounded disbelief.

Unable to reduce the final volume into a single film, Deathly Hallows: Part One is full of foreboding and further cranking of the tension. The previous books all had plenty of world-building and sub plots (Hermione's house elf liberation thing and Neville Longbottom's (Matthew Lewis) brush with greatness in Order of the Phoenix for example) that could be cut for the scripts, but the final book is all plot and as such couldn't be reduced. With the three friends on the run and the Ministry of Magic (the government of the magical world) all but fully supporting Voldemort, there are no safe places to turn to. The opening mostly silent shots of our main three are extremely evocative; in particular Hermione erasing herself from the memories of her parents in order to protect them is a quiet yet huge sacrifice that is enough to bring a tremor to your lip and a tear to your eye.

Ron is cracking under the strain.

To begin with it is relentlessly tense and shot through with a crushing sense of fear, and the deaths of both 'Mad Eye' Moody (Brendan Gleeson) and Harry's owl Hedwig within the first few scenes is like a statement of intent and a further illustration of the mortal danger all the characters, children included, are facing. With the seemingly impossible task of finding and destroying the remaining horcruxes before going after Voldemort, all seems bleak and following a daring break-in to the Ministry of Magic tempers start to fray as we follow the three out into the middle of nowhere, where the sense of dread eases off and we have a little room to breathe. After Ron departs in a mood, there is a much talked-about scene, not in the novel, in which Harry and Hermione share a dance. It's been both praised as a lovely extra moment of characterisation and criticised as an awkward and pointless aside. In truth, it's kind of both. As it begins, and Harry takes Hermione in his arms, you can feel their awkwardness, but as the dance continues, their smiles and laughter are genuine and it serves its original intention of lightening the mood for a moment in a surprising and tender way. I'm sure that initial awkwardness is entirely intentional and shows the main strength Yates brings to the series; his grasp of mood and character.

As lovely as the land surrounding Hogwarts undoubtedly is, the film makes great use of the opportunities for a change of scenery in what is essentially the Harry Potter Road Movie. Although it's often cold, dark and damp the difference is striking. A particularly effective use of the surroundings is the scene at night in the middle of a wood where Harry has to dive into a frozen pond to retrieve the sword of Gryffindor. It's remarkably done and has you cringing in sympathy and yearning for a comfy seat by a warm fire. One other outstanding moment is the telling of the story of the titular Deathly Hallows - told in fluid and beautiful animation, it is extremely well designed and very effective.

What is different about this film is the ending. It's really the most natural point at which it could have ended, and yet because it's only half way through the book, it's a little anti-climactic compared to the others. All of the action of the huge finale is contained in the second half. The film doesn't suffer greatly for it, but it is a little strange.

Face to face.

Deathly Hallows: Part Two kicks off at the exact point Part One left off. It says something about how much these films mean that throughout the sold out showing I went to see the cinema audience were deathly quiet. The again very effective opening dialogue-free shots are of Voldemort finding the Elder Wand (which is also the final scene of Part One) and new headmaster Severus Snape (Alan Rickman) silently presiding over a Hogwarts run like a military prison. After a few brief rather clunky conversations, we set off for the finale. First off is a stop at Bellatrix's bank vault to retrieve another horcrux in an impressive sequence which sees our trio escape Gringotts (the wizard bank, run by goblins) on the back of a dragon.

The direction is unchanged from the previous three, with Yates still struggling at times with the dialogue and making a passable attempt at action. He continues to excel at mood and expressing character through shots framed without dialogue. Like the first two films, you sometimes wonder what a director more competent with action might have done with some scenes - James Cameron perhaps - but Yates is so effective at putting Rowling's characterisation on screen, I doubt it would have been worth the trade. It's odd that the scenes that say most about the characters are the ones in which they don't speak. I suppose, having established your characters over the course of eight films, it's entirely natural that they don't always need to speak to be understood.

The final film is almost like an exercise in ticking boxes to make sure everyone gets their payoff, their big moment. Some work, some don't. Professor McGonagall (Maggie Smith) shows that she is every bit as formidable as has always been suggested, Ron and Hermione finally sharing a kiss is well handled, but Molly Weasley's (Julie Walters) big moment is fumbled - rushed almost. It seems ludicrous that after eight films, half of which were too long, that the finale with the shortest running time of all the series, doesn't take the time to portray such a huge moment with the care it deserves. Something else it gets right is the resolution of Neville Longbottom's arc; seeing the lad take over Dumbledore's Army in Harry's absence and having the nerve to stand up to Voldemort is great. As Voldermort, Fiennes is marvellous; feeling his power crumble and his sanity slip away as each horcrux is destroyed, utterly bewildered at how his nemesis is accomplishing the impossible and flying into unpredictable rages as his desperation increases.

Neville refuses to be cowed.

A great job is made of showing the cost paid by those who stand up to Voldemort; brief images of the Weasley family pole-axed by grief, or of Lupin and Tonks (Natalia Tena) lying beside each other in death, leaving their baby to be raised by others are played as minor touch notes in the grander scheme of things, but are genuinely upsetting. Each of these fleeting glimpses acts as a prism focusing on Harry, struggling to come to terms with the sacrifices others are making to protect him, the weight of their deaths lying heavier on him all the time. As with other scenes, it is portrayed best without words.

The final reveal of Snape's true character is, considering the way it slows the pace to a grinding crawl, handled remarkably well and like in the book, the potentially fatally large infodump is absorbed into the story with no great difficulty. It's here where one of the standout performances of the film and indeed the series is resolved. When you have all the pieces, you can see Rickman did a superb job of portraying all of Snape's complexities. Even from The Philosopher's Stone, Rickman's performance takes on a dual nature. In the later films, Snape can be viewed as a cold-blooded, uncaring villain, but when re-watched, Rickman's mannerisms hint at the tortured soul underneath, playing out his role with a suggestion of sorrow and not a little bravery, protecting a boy who reminds him so strongly of a man he despised, but very occasionally of the woman he loved. It is Rowling's crowning moment of genius and makes for the most satisfying character arc of all.

Harry prepares to give everything to the cause.

When it comes to bravery, the star of the show is always Harry, and it's no different here. While Neville Longbottom takes over the role of typical action hero in the battle for Hogwarts, Harry faces his own personal struggle as he quietly and deliberately prepares himself to die for his cause. It's one thing to die fighting, going out in a blaze of glory, but it's quite another to accept your fate and willingly give yourself up to death to save others. Harry's quiet and dignified decision to sacrifice everything is beautifully understated; Radcliffe has truly never been better and along with Rickman, gives one of the performances of the film. He's come a long way, that kid.

There have been a couple of wobbles along the way, but overall this set of films helps me to remember why I along with millions of others fell for these characters in the first place.

Score:
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone: 6/10
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: 7/10
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part One: 8/10

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part Two: 8/10

Rachel.

Rachel might one day write something about these films, but don't hold your breath, for unlike me, she has a real life. She has, however, scored them.

Score:
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone: 6/10
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: 6/10
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part One: 8/10
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part Two: 8/10

Bill also enjoyed them, and although Jake enjoyed the new one, he's more critical than me of the previous ones.