Dunkirk

When I was a young lad, one of my elderly relatives told me that one of my great-great granddads was one of the last men off the boats fleeing the beaches of Dunkirk. I can't confirm or deny that this is true or not but nonetheless the story of Dunkirk, in which 300,000 stranded men desperately awaited rescue as the encroaching Nazi armies began to surround them, has always fascinated me. Oddly, there have been very few film versions of the story. There was a 1958 version directed by Leslie Norman (the late, great Barry Norman's dad) and it crops up briefly in Mrs. Miniver (then still recent news) and Atonement. Outside of that, it is somewhat underrepresented. This is likely due to the face that Dunkirk was, for all intents and purposes, not a victory but rather a place-holder - a strategic retreat to carry on and fight another day. General audiences might not be up for this. Unlike the more traditionally heroic narrative of D-Day (albeit with all the grisly details a la Saving Private Ryan or The Longest Day), Hollywood has shied away from representing this crucial chapter in the history of World War Two. However, famed director Christopher Nolan has cracked that nut with an incredibly tense thriller that tells the story like it is - in all its loud and terrifying details - with a director at the top of his game.

Nolan presents the definitive take on this under-represented part of history that puts the human drama at the forefront

The details speak for themselves. The film concentrates on three different plot strands - the land, the sea and the air. The land section, known as The Mole, follows British private Tommy (Fionn Whitehead) as he desperately tries to get entry on a boat leaving Dunkirk under the watchful eye of Commander Bolton (Kenneth Branagh). This story is told over the course of a week. The Sea section follows Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance), a sailor whose boat is going to be commandeered by the Navy as a vessel to sail to Dunkirk as part of the rescue mission. However, Dawson, his son Peter (Tom Glynn-Carney) and their impulsive teenage hand George (Barry Keoghan) decide to go out on their own. This is told over the course of a day. Finally, The Air section follows Spitfire pilot Farrier (Tom Hardy), who is providing air support to the troops abandoned on the beach. 

The three stories are intercut with each other and told in a non-linear fashion. Nolan is up to his usual narrative cutting tricks, which has ended up with mixed results in the past (Memento = brilliant, Batman Begins = probably better if told chronologically). However, with Dunkirk, it is to make the film as exciting and emotional as possible. The scenes might not necessarily take place in the same part of the timeline but are satisfying when intercut together. So this element gets a massive pass from me, even if it is a little confusing on an initial viewing (there's probably plenty of little details as elements from each story appear in another). Arguably, this is the only way to really convey the scope and sheer madness of the events that took place over this week. It ambitious and just about works.

Tommy, along with several other characters, does morally grey things in order to survive

Dunkirk is a sheer spectacle. I use that term very loosely, as 'spectacle' brings to mind images of big empty sword-and-sandal epics, which I don't think does the film justice. It's a spectacle in that it's a large scale representation of one of the lowest points of the Allied military campaign of World War Two. To do this, Nolan uses every trick in the book to put the audience in this moment. Nolan eschews glory and the usual war porn imagery for an incredibly tense thriller that puts you in the shoes of the characters. This is accomplished by a lack of CGI in favour of real crowds, ships, planes and explosions. The soundtrack by Hans Zimmer is impressionistic and perfectly compliments the tone of the film. I have always had reservations about Zimmer's scores for Nolan's films in the past but here it matches the tone perfectly. There is no sense of artifice in the construction of the film. Danger literally lurks around every corner and the film is just so effective at communicating this. The whole film manages to maintain an incredibly tense pace over the course of its whole runtime. The same commitment to authenticity is extended to all the performances (including young Mr. Harry Styles). Whitehead is possibly the stand out. A quiet and understated performance, Whitehead communicates so much just through his body language and expressions and goes through some of the most traumatic events in the film. There is very little dialogue in the film and with little time for characterisation, the actors all have to work that bit harder - fortunately, the ensemble steps up to the plate. 

Trouble occurs on board for Mark Rylance's Mr. Dawson en route to Dunkirk

At no point does a character ponder on the nature of war or the ethical ramifications of what it means to be a solider. Indeed, after the bloated and pretentious Interstellar, I almost expected this kind of film when Nolan announced that Dunkirk would be his next film. "Here he goes again - trying to match Kubrick" as he continued to prove that he was "artist" with a weighty document on the nature of war. But no. Dunkirk is incredibly lean and to the point. It's far from the three hour epic I was expecting. The ticking time bomb situation lends itself perfectly to its 1 hour 45 minute run time, which makes it one of Nolan's shortest films. Nolan is still interested in exploring the themes that come from this situation but it is birthed from the narrative. Ultimately, he is exploring what happens to people when put into an intense life-or-death situation. We're not given a lot of time to get to know the characters as people but it is their actions over the course of the film that speak for them. Some take up the call. Others give in to hopelessness. Some are just trying to survive, betraying fellow soldiers to do so. It's a great mix of raw human drama. There are simply too many excellent scenes and situations that the characters get into to discuss here without giving too much away. Suffice to say, it's nail biting stuff. 

Dunkirk limits the use of CGI in favour of using old techniques to extend crowd scenes and filming on real locations

I was incredibly lucky to have seen the film presented at the Imax in 70mm. Only three cinemas in the UK are showing the film in its intended format. Fortunately, I (now) live close to Manchester, which is playing host to one of these rare screenings. Cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema shot the film on 65mm, an older form of film intended for super massive wide-screen, and specifically shot 70% of the film on Imax formatted cameras. This is the widest international release 70mm has had in decades, so this is rare treat for film fans. The results simply speak for themselves. The film is given an even more dis-orientating and massive scope. All the different elements, which are incredibly successful either way you view it, are given a whole dimension when ballooned up on Imax screens. The huge expanse of Dunkirk beach. The roaring of the Spirfire engines overhead. The seemingly endless English channel. The flying hail of bullets. The powerful explosions as German planes drop more bombs. If you are able to see the film in this format, I can't recommend it enough. The 70mm presentation was almost perfect, giving everything a natural grainy look, which just adds to the authentic feel of the film. God, I've missed the grain. 

No matter what format you see it in, Dunkirk is essential viewing. Nolan has crafted quite possibly his best film yet that is both lean and epic in scope. Forgoing any kind of pretense, Nolan puts the human drama at the forefront of this pressure cooker situation that continues to find new ways to enthral the audience. Every element comes together perfectly to suck the audience into this event and time. The film is incredibly tense and manages to keep the same pace over the course of its whole run time. Thrilling is an understatement. Easily one of the best films of the year that warrants a second viewing. 

Again, though - if you can catch the film in the Imax in 70mm, I can't recommend it enough. It's a powerful and incredibly intense experience. 

Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down: Why I won't be scoring films anymore

No, that wasn't a typo on the Spider-Man: Homecoming review - I have intentionally not scored the film. I had something of a quandary in scoring both that film and Baby Driver, which I saw back-to-back. I was originally going to give Spider-Man: Homecoming an 8/10. I felt slightly weird giving a mass-produced studio product a higher mark than the work of a master filmmaker at the top of his game when I knew that technically Baby Driver was a better made film. Here's my argument. While entertaining and brilliantly made, Baby Driver doesn't quite have the plot to match it up. For me, it all comes down to how well the concept and the film's goals are executed. Spider-Man: Homecoming understood 100% what it needed to be and executed it very well. Baby Driver also understood what it needed to be but used Wright's excellent filmmaking technique to mask a slightly generic plot that ultimately succumbs to the genre cliches to it was trying to overcome and was not completely satisfying as a film. Obviously, not every film needs to have a satisfying arc to be great - master filmmakers like Kubrick, the Coens, David Lynch, Paul Thomas Anderson and Hitchcock toyed with these ideas for the best of their careers to create ambiguous and challenging works. The difference is that those filmmakers replaced a satisfying arc with something equally interesting, if not more so.

This quandary actually ended up obscuring what I actually thought about each film, to the point where I was considering giving a film I enjoyed less a higher score because of the pedigree involved and didn't take into account my actual enjoyment level. And that goes directly against the integrity of my writing, by directly obscuring my opinions behind a vague concept of a score. I ended up labouring over the score rather than voicing my actual opinion. This got me thinking about my past reviews as well. Ok, so I gave Baby Driver 7/10 but I also gave that to Alien: Covenant, even though Baby Driver is a much better film - how does that work? On what scale should I judge things? Do I even need a scale? This in turn got me thinking about scores in general. In particular, I was getting tired of giving films 8/10, which became shorthand for "it's very good, some slight niggles, not one of the classics of the genre". 

Arguably a lot of this started with the legendary late great film critics Siskel and Ebert. In a unique twist, the two would debate the merits of a film on prime-time television boiling it all down to a Thumbs Up or Thumbs Down rating. This gave consumers an idea of what a film was like, from a critical stand point. And this is part of what a critic does - we explore the pros and cons of a film and end by recommending it or not. However, a rating system gave an easily understandable view on what a critic thought of the film. Thumbs up or down, a star rating, a score out of 10 etc. gives an easily quantifiable level of quality, so a reader or viewer can easily skip to this section to get an instant idea of what a critic thinks of a film on some of kind of scale (the funniest is The Daily Mail's rating system, with 'terrible' films earning a Turkey score). 

However, I argue that concentrating on the score can, to some extent, cheapen an actual discussion of a film. Rotten Tomatoes (RT), with its aggregate scores, has done some harm to colouring people's views on films. I actually think it makes it harder to re-discover misunderstood films and appreciate other elements. You take one look at the score and decide if you want to see it or not. Baby Driver is a perfect example of this. The filmmaking was excellent and I go into detail why its so great in the review. However, I had issues with the script and the way the plot developed. No film is perfect. 97% on Rotten Tomatoes does not give you the film story. Nor does 10/10. Thus I don't think a score can accurately reflect a true opinion on a film. Can a 10/10 film really exist and how can this scale be decided? Should a film that succeeds on its own merits really be judged against what are regarded as the greatest films of all time (if that's what a 10/10 implies)? Would you give the Mona Lisa a 10/10, while Warhol's Campbell Soups a 9/10? The difference between works of art and film is that film is much more commercially driven. With so many films out there to consume, in particular if you are on a lower income, having an aggregate score to refer to does give one a good idea of what to expect from the film in terms of quality. Heck, I would make the argument that now audience are paying more and more attention to RT, much to the distaste of the studios. However, this also colours audiences' views on low and high brow works - in my opinion, all films should be judged on their own merits and how they have succeeded. 

Well, going forward, as an experiment, I will not be scoring films (or any other form of media I review). I hope that my prose and honesty will get across my feelings on a film better than a generic rating out of 10. I could clearly define a rating system for my reviews or I could work to actively improve my writing style. Because I think opinion is much more complicated than a assigning a number. My 'reviews' have always ridden the line between review and article. Abandoning the scoring system will hopefully mean I can concentrate more on the elements I am interested in. I do just want to say that a lot of reviews I read and critics I follow use a scoring scale. This does not dilute their work as a critic, as their actual reviews are thoughtful, insightful and serve their purpose perfectly. I just personally have issues with it...

Film and media deserves to be discussed in greater depth than concentrating on a score. Scores can be a very helpful tool to a critic but can sometimes get in the way of actually engaging with a piece. 

Hopefully, this will help to improve my writing style and let my prose communicate my thoughts and musings on any given piece of media in greater, more confident, detail. 

Let's see how it goes ...

Spider-Man: Homecoming

 

Spider-Man is back. Again. Sony's beloved, but deeply flawed, original trilogy of films left an indelible mark on those who grew up with them. The subsequent "Amazing" reboot did nothing but disappoint, even if Andrew Garfield's central performance was very good and offered some much better females characters (don't get me started on Kirsten Dunst's Mary-Jane). After The Amazing Spider-Man 2 failed to set the world alight (more on that film in the Side-Notes section at the end), Sony struck a deal with Marvel Studios to bring everyone's favourite web-slinger into the fold of the Marvel Cinematic Studios. After making his enjoyable debut in Captain America: Civil War, things certainly looked optimistic with Tom Holland bringing a youthful energy to the role. So. Is it worth seeing yet another take on Spider-Man when we are now up to our third incarnation of the franchise in 15 years?

Fortunately, the gamble has produced the best film in the franchise since the much lauded second film. It might even be slightly better. With very little to no time given to explaining Spider-Man's origin story (this is a major benefit to the film, by-the-by), we launch straight into Peter picking up his life after the events of Civil War, eagerly anticipating the call from Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.). He hopes that one day he will be asked to become a true member of the Avengers. Despite his eagerness, things never seem to take off for Peter though. In between trying to find a date for the prom, studying and hanging out with his equally goofy friend, Ned (Jacob Batalon), Peter keeps on trying to find his big break as a superhero. However, Peter picks up on shady deals and powerful weapons spreading across New York, which he traces back to a mysterious arms-dealer, Adrian Toomes a.k.a. the Vulture (Michael Keaton). Seeing his opportunity to finally prove himself, Peter dives head first into the mystery ...

The absolute highlight of the film is Tom Holland. He was already lovable in Civil War but Homecoming gives him real time to shine. In an age of depressing superheroes, bearing under the weight of some mythic expectations placed upon them (i.e. Batman v. Superman), it is just so refreshing to have a superhero who is actually happy to be a superhero. Whoever hired Holland deserves a raise. He rides the perfect line between nervous energy, quiet vulnerability and razor-sharp wit. The best compliment I can give Holland is that when he gets in the suit, he actually feels like the same character - something that the others films (in particular with the Amazing series) struggled with. From his early scenes of filming a video diary of his time with the Avengers to haplessly trying to talk to love interest Liz (Laura Harrier) to the final moments of the film when he makes several heroic decisions, Holland just sells every moment. It works as part of a back-to-basic ethos for the film that emphasises fun and the right elements that makes Spidey tick. Director Jon Watts concentrates on the making the film feel as revitalized as possible and pretty much every choice is the correct one.

There are some truly inspired re-imaginings of the classic Spider-Man characters. One my favourites is  Flash Thompson. Flash in the comics was a dunder-headed, football-playing idiot who used his brawn to terrorize Peter. However here, as played by Tony Revolori, Flash is more of a social bully, able to get under Peter's skin using his smarts and 'charisma' as opposed to his muscles. Michelle (Zandaya) is also a fun character, reminiscent of Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club. She's dry, awkward, very intelligent and supplies many of the unexpected laughs in the film. Surprisingly, the new character I enjoyed the most was Ned, Peter's loyal and just as geeky friend. The film has comedy in droves and this mostly stems how goofy our 'loser' characters are. It's genuinely sweet and the high school setting is one of the unexpected highlights of the films. Homecoming even has a half-way decent Marvel villain (something these films always struggle with). Since the film doesn't spend part of the run time dealing with the origin story, more chances are afforded for characters moments for Peter and fleshing out Keaton's take on the Vulture. He's sympathetic yet conflicted, recalling Norman Osbourne's arc in the original film and presents a real challenge for Peter to overcome. Iron Man is also used only sparingly, as he is mostly used to subtly reinforce the "with great power, comes great responsibility" ethos of the character.

I finally have my John Hughes inspired superhero film!

What many audience members remember about the original trilogy are the set pieces and Homecoming does not disappoint in this department. From Spider-Man climbing up the Washington Monument to save his friends to desperately holding a split ferry together with his strength and web-shooters, there's plenty to keep audiences engaged. Most importantly, Homecoming gets what should makes Spider-Man stories tick - the conflict between Peter's responsibilities. He successfully secures a date for the prom but ends up having to pull out to stop a villain from pulling off his fiendish scheme. All the best of the webslinger's stories rotate around scenarios such as this and Homecoming manages to build action scenes that are satisfying, small-scale and emotional. Peter's struggles are always at the center. With a steady pace that balances just the right amount of thrills, humour and tension, the film builds to a genuinely surprising twist that actually had me flawed a little bit. The rest of the plot is fine - it's maybe spread a little bit too thin but the film makes up for this in every other department.

Spider-Man: Homecoming took me by complete surprise. The film is bright and colourful with a light (maybe slightly too light) plot that is anchored by an excellent performance from Tom Holland, above and away the best Peter Parker ever committed on-screen. The film just reminded me about how much I love Spider-Man as a character. Homecoming is a blast that I enjoyed a lot more than I expected to.

Side-Note

Spider-Man is a hocky and very campy little film that I have a lot of nostalgia for. Honestly: the camp factor is what I enjoy about it. Sam "Evil Dead" Raimi tapped into the pure comic book nature of the stories and brought it fully to life. Tom Maguire, much criticised, just is Peter Parker from the moment you see him running after the school bus. Plus, there's William Defoe over-acting to the max, so you can't go wrong. Is it cheesy? Yes, but it's all the better for it. Spider-Man 2 is the perfect sequel to the original and improves upon it in every way. Alfred Molina is excellent as Doc Ock and everything just has a much higher quality. The conflict between Peter Parker and his Spider-Man persona is great and the set pieces are some of the series' best. Spider-Man 3 is every bit the mess it is made out to be. I don't hate as much as some (it's no X-Men 3...) but it is still a disappointing conclusion to series. I'm going to beat on a dead horse but dancing emo Peter Parker is just ... no. The Amazing Spider-Man is a slight improvement on 3, with great central performances from Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone, but the plot is mostly bland and the film struggles to establish just who their Peter Parker is. Is he geeky or a hipster or is he lonely or yet also confident or skater or genius? He's just too many things in one - at least Tobey was just nerdy and awkward. The tone is the biggest issue, riding the line between goofy and funny to dark and serious. Plus, the film thinks it is too "cool" to say "with great comes great responsibility", which is a major misstep. So while some things are better, e.g. the love interest, Gwen Stacey, but the fundamentals of the character are just .. wrong. It's an ok film overall though. The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is pretty bad. This one gets a little bit of a free pass by some - I'm not so kind. My abiding memory of this film was watching on the plane to New York, trying to stifle my laughter into my in-flight pillow at all the unintentionally funny moments. The film is a mess through and through. Poor execution, bad villain and a ridiculous third act. It tries to be all things Spider-Man but ultimately fails at being anything.

Baby Driver

Poor Edgar Wright has been given something of a short shrift in the last five or so years. Following the conclusion of his much-lauded Cornetto Trilogy (which includes one of the best comedies of all time, Hot Fuzz) his adaptation of the comic series Scott Pilgrim under-performed at the box-office and his much anticipated take on Ant-Man failed to materialise after the meddling machine of Marvel Studios got involved. I love everything this man does, so it's a shame that his creativity has been unable to find a home. So thank God for Baby Driver. Following some dubious early trailers, Baby Driver becomes one of the most kinetic films of this summer's blockbuster season.

The films follows Baby (Ansel Elgort), a young man stuck in an inescapable situation. After being caught stealing and subsequently destroying some precious stock, Baby is forced to work for criminal Doc (Kevin Spacey), who helps him on his elaborate heists to pay off his debt. For, with the help of his iPod, Baby is an amazing getaway driver, who also happens to suffer from tinnitus following a car accident as a child. Baby is on the verge of paying off his final piece of debt to Doc, so makes plans to finally leave Atlanta and strike out on his own (maybe accompanied by a waitress friend he has met - Debora, as played by Lily James). However, Doc has other plans for Baby and pulls him in for another heist against his will. With criminals Bats (Jamie Foxx), Buddy (Jon Hamm) and Darling (Eiza Gonázlez) in toe, things begin to go south for Baby as he soon finds it difficult to escape this criminal world...

Baby Driver is a thrilling, and often very funny, action film that suffers slightly in the plot department but makes up for it the visual and filmmaking department

Baby Driver is held together by Edgar Wright's incredible style. It is a literal orchestra of revving cars and flying bullets, all in sync to Baby's playlist. Wright's cinematic confidence seeps from every frame of the film, right from the very first scene. The pacing of the film is truly excellent, with Wright zipping from scene to scene, seemingly effortlessly. If anyone saw Scott Pilgrim vs. The World or any of the Cornetto film, you know this is something he is a master of. The car chases and other action scenes are thrilling and constructed for maximum thrills. The film keeps on finding new ways to make all the actions scenes unique and exciting. Even scenes as mundane as "Baby buys coffee for the gang" becomes a joyful one-take shot as Baby moves and dances to the rhythm of the song he is listening to. There are plenty of wonderful and playful diegetic and non-diegetic moments with the soundtrack, with one Baby insisting in one scene that he rewinds one of his songs so he (and the scene) can get back in rhythm. The film is cinematically literate (as you'd expect from the director) and the musical choices are stellar. Hearing Brighton Rock, a slightly obscure Queen song from their album masterpiece Sheer Heart Attack, was an absolute thrill.

The dialogue is just as razor sharp as you'd expect it to be. I think Wright is toying with certain action character clichés to point of almost spoofing them (though not quite to the degree of Hot Fuzz). In fact, it almost feels like a film that the characters from Hot Fuzz would idolise. The difference is Baby himself. This is a fairly unique character for a mainstream action film and the film spends a good amount of time establishing his motives and character. In particular, I like the scenes with his foster father, where they have to sign to each to communicate as he is deaf. I do bemoan a bit that the rest of the cast are fairly generic (though I imagine this is likely the point), even if the performances themselves are excellent. Jamie Foxx in particular is a highlight. The set-up is great and well executed. With acts one and two, Baby Driver seems to be heading in a unique and very funny direction. So I was a little disappointed when the film takes the direction it does. It's still kinetic and exciting, don't get me wrong, I just wish it could have found a more unique direction to take after the promise of the first half of the film.

That said, Baby Driver's slightly generic plot is masked by Wright's incredible filmmaking. Every frame of this film is meticulously planned and executed gorgeously. The soundtrack and general sound design are a symphony of excellence, somehow making car chases seem exciting again. Wright's commitment to the concept is commendable, even if the film suffers from third act sag. If Baby Driver had as strong a third act as the first two, I would say this would be one of the year's best. However, as it stands, it is a unique entry in the summer canon that I hope turns people to Edgar Wright's other works. I'm happy to see that Baby Driver is performing well, which should hopefully give more fuel for Wright's boundless creativity.

Rating: 7/10

The Harry Potter Retrospective, Part Two: Something Wicked This Way Comes

The best thing that ever happened to the Harry Potter film series was Chris Columbus dropping out of directing the third entry, Prisoner of Azkaban. Wanting to spend more quality time with his family, Columbus remained on as executive producer as a new director was sought to bring the most critically acclaimed Potter novel to life. Azkaban is, without a doubt, the best Harry Potter book. It's lean, intriguing, has excellent character work and adds interesting new dimensions to Rowling's world. It's a masterpiece of children's literature. Thus, a film adaptation needed a careful hand and someone with more style than Columbus' workmanlike approach. Filmmakers as diverse as Guillmero del Toro, Marc Forster and even M. Night Shayamalan (!) were considered to direct before settling on Alfonso Cuarón. Cuarón was well-known on the independent art-house circuit for his Mexican speaking films, including the critically acclaimed Y Tu Mama Tambien. He would later go onto direct sci-fi dystopian masterpiece Children of Men and eventually winning Best Director for the visually astonishing Gravity. A quick glance over Cuarón's discography reveals a weightier filmmaker, more interested in the minutia of scenes and existential issues than the Diet Spielberg of Columbus. Y Tu Mama Tambien is a coming of age road trip film centered on a group of teenagers backed against the political strife of late 1990s Mexico. With this breakout film, Cuarón would prove to be the perfect choice for Azkaban, as our child characters enter the awkward throngs of their teen years against an increasingly dark world view.

Right from Azkaban's opening scene, Cuarón's expert hand can be felt all over the framing. In my opinion, Azkaban is the only film in the series to come close to capturing the spirit of Rowling's novels. An exaggerated portrayal of the United Kingdom that has the wit of Pratchett, the wonder of Dahl and the depth of Tolkien, littered with mythical callbacks to a country long gone yet firmly set in the modern day. The tone is just the right balance between charming, darker, angsty and funny. The film picks up with Harry in Year Three, having had a major fallout with the Dursley's following an unfortunate incident with horrible family member Aunt Marge. Harry is whisked back to Hogwarts under something of a dark cloud (especially as those hormones kick in) when it is revealed that infamous Voldemort supporter, Sirius Black, breaks free from the infamous Azkaban prison. Worse still, rumours have put Black near to Hogwarts, as it is revealed that he was directly involved in betraying Harry's parents to Voldemort. Harry, angry, depressed and lonely, seeks the truth behind Sirius Black in one of the only stories of the series that does not directly tie to the series' main Big Bad. Harry also comes face-to-face with the terrifying Dementors, the guards of Azkaban.

Hormones kick in (and top buttons become undone) in the masterful Prisoner of Azkaban

So why is Azkaban the best of the lot? Several reasons really. For one, there's the acting. Radcliffe, Watson and Grint were always charming with their slightly wooden acting in the first two films but here they are clearly growing up and the audience level acceptance rises with it. All the actors have come leaps and bounds since Chamber and I argue this is the influence of Cuarón, a director who really gets involved with his actors. Radcliffe in particular has grown up a lot, as his handling of the thematically grayer material is largely excellent. A great scene in which Harry discovers that Black sold out his parents rides the line perfectly between anger, confusion and genuine upset. The scenes with Professor Lupin (David Thewlis), by far my favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts tutor, again highlights that Radcliffe can handle subtle material. Cuarón clearly knows how to play his strengths, as the quieter more introspective scenes were his acting highlights in the earlier films. Watson and Grint give their best performances yet. If Hermione was sidelined in Chamber than the reverse happens in Azkaban, with Ron sitting out of the incredible third act (more on that later). As an ensemble, the feel like the first time the three felt like natural friends.

Speaking of Thewlis, he too gives a deeply soulful performance as the troubled Lupin. There's arguably no one better to give Harry advice on how to grapple with inner demons than a man afflicted with being a werewolf. Lupin teaches Harry how to produce the Patronus charm, to ward off the Dementors. This spell is more based off emotions, which Harry is currently struggling with (more on that later). In all honesty, I always connected more with Lupin than with Sirius (spoilers, Sirius is innocent), in particular in the film series. I always felt that emotionally Sirius' arc should have been Lupin's. Here's the thing. Outside of the direct connection to Harry, Sirius offers Harry a new home to live in and the chance of a new family. However, as a father figure, I always felt that Lupin actually offered Harry words to live by. Those lovely scenes of Harry and Lupin talking and walking along the famous Hogwarts bridge (specifically designed for this film) and the surrounding woods are excellent, subtle and develop the characters. When Sirius arrives into the story, that adoptive father figure role is essentially taken from Lupin and transferred to him. If I have one niggle with the film, it's that this connection (as well as the relationship between Lupin, Black, James Potter and Wormtail) is not explored to the full degree that the books do. The films almost do a too good a job of developing Lupin and his connection to Harry then with Sirius. This is not really a fault with Azkaban but rather with the follow-up, Goblet of Fire, which we will get to. So we're going to put a pin on Sirius as represented in the films for Part Three, where we will look at adaptation in a bit more depth. Think of how more emotionally satisfying it would be (strictly through the tunnel of the film series) if Lupin ended his story in Order...controversial and unlikely but Azkaban unfortunately sets in motion how a key part of Harry's character arc is undermined by the adaptation. But that's more the fault of later filmmakers. 

David Thewlis gives a superb performance as Professor Lupin, the latest DATDA tutor. In fact, the performance and framing of the character is almost too good!

The unfortunate passing away of Richard Harris led to the casting of Michael Gambon, who brought interesting new dimensions to the character

In between Chamber and Azkaban, the great Richard Harris passed away, leaving the filmmakers in a quandary on what to do next. Harris captured a wonderful sense of magic in his performance as Dumbledore that could not be replicated. So the filmmakers, quite rightly, perused a different take on the character. Irish actor Michael Gambon (complete with this accent intact) emphasised the eccentric side of Dumbledore that felt a bit younger and livelier. If there was going to be a change in actors, even if the circumstances surrounding it were horrible, Azkaban was probably a good time. Dumbledore is not as central to the plot but has a few scenes to highlight that this is a different take on the character to allow the audience to settle in and mourn Harris. Honestly, I prefer Gambon as Dumbledore. He's controversial with some audiences (yes, yes we all know it says "calmly" in that the scene in the book of Goblet of Fire) but I think his performance was closer to the Dumbledore I imagined reading the books. Old and wise yet spritely and odd.  

Honestly though, it's the little scenes that really make this film. The first two were good literal adaptations but didn't really have time (or attention) to explore the minor details of the world. Cuarón litters the film with these moments. Harry storming off from the Dursley's house in a fit of teenage rage, then stopping in his tracks as he realises he's made an unthought out mistake. The creepy playground (complete with hidden children's laughter in the mix) that announces the arrival of a mysterious disheveled dog. Cornelius Fudge talking to Harry whilst enchanting a quill to write for him (so you get a sense of busy Fudge is and how his mind is not really concentrated on Harry). Harry grappling with his monstrous Care For Magical Creatures book. The Whomping Willow used as a signifier of the changing seasons. A hotel maid opening the door to a giant screaming monster and almost being blown away. The fact that the students now undo their top buttons (like most British teenagers) and wear normal clothes makes them feel like real people, as opposed to little angels. It's little details like this, which arguably don't need to be in the film, that make Azkaban into a richer experience than the previous entries. 

The art design is the absolute best in the series. Using medieval art and architecture as a launching point, Cuarón really plays up the gothic elements more than in the previous films. This is announced in the brilliant introduction to Hogwarts, with the school choir singing a chilling song called "Double Trouble ". Returning composer John Williams lifts lines direct from Macbeth (more on the music later) for the song. It's a great moment and sets up that Hogwarts has changed; that menace is in the air. From the dusty corridors of the Shrieking Shack to the executor, with his comically over-the-top scythe to the Tudor inspired town of Hogsmede, the art design just brings Harry's world to life in gothic detail. Cuarón also shifts the landscape of Hogwarts around significantly, the reason of which becomes clear in the time-bending finale. This just helps to give the setting a more lived-in and unique feel. Hogwarts always felt like a backdrop on the Columbus films - here it becomes a character onto itself. The same care was also extended to the filmmaking, which again is much more confident and experimental. Cuarón uses tasteful camera tricks to create a world of duality, where nothing is at it seems (such as zooming into windows which then become the frame proper). 

I'm a big fan of the over-stylised and gothic sets

The Shrieking Shack is just one of the excellent new sets utilised in the film

The soundtrack as well is a key indicator of the shift in tone. This is actually fairly experimental music for John Williams. We're now used to the sweeping orchestral sounds of Williams, which is used to the max in Philosopher's and Chamber. However, it is easy to forget that, before Star Wars, Williams was a very experimental composer. Look at Altman's take on The Long Goodbye. Williams uses the title track and rearranges it in dozens of different styles over the course of the film. And weirdly, this experimental streak seems to have returned in Azkaban. Perhaps the year long break he took between films (a rarity for this high demand composer) allowed time for Williams' musical concepts to develop. The music makes great use of medieval instruments, which gives a primal sense of suspense and mystery. Williams completely understands that the world of Harry Potter is a balancing act between joyful and sorrowful moments. Better yet, the musical themes develop to something a bit more ethereal, as the famous Harry Potter themes gives way to something a bit more solemn, matching the mood of the film. The piece "A Window to the Past" becomes the key theme for Harry in this film, played during his intimate scenes with Lupin and fully developed when he summons his patronus at the film's conclusion. I find that one of the great tragedies of the series is that Williams was not allowed to develop these themes across future films. Perhaps if he had stayed on, the music of Potter could have rivaled that of Star Wars or The Lord of the Rings as an extended narrative driven piece of music.

At its heart, Azkaban is about depression. Famously, pre-Harry Potter fame, Rowling suffered deep depression as her personal life collapsed around her and even contemplated suicide. The Dementors, the terrifying apparitions "protecting" Hogwarts, are a clear metaphor for this, sucking away at life and making you feel that you can never be happy again. Depression isn't easy to overcome and more suffer from it than one realises. Particularly in Britain, there is "just get on with it" attitude that is very damaging and not conducive to overcoming depression. So, Harry Potter's openness to the topic, speaking as someone who has suffered severe depression in the past, is something I've always appreciated (even when I didn't understand that I was depressed). The film retains the novel's sensitive approach to the subject. Proper time is given to the training with Lupin and, more importantly, his conversations with him. And it's a long road to recovery. Harry struggles to overcome the Dementors. His judgements become confused. He is unable to concentrate enough to produce the Patronus charm. He becomes isolated from his friends. And he ultimately feels lonely, useless and adrift. However, Harry begins to overcome the problem by talking to others, reconnecting and eventually defeating his worst fears - metaphorical, this journey is complete when he is able to literally save himself in the time-bending conclusion by summoning a fully-produced Patrnous charm. Fans can complain all they want (and I'm not sure if there are many complaints against this film) about the adaptation but the film understands that this is the heart of the novels and needs the correct amount of time to explore and develop. The Dementors themselves are an excellent piece of fantasy design work. Different enough to the Ringwraiths, the Dementors have a creepy feel all of their own. The excellent and tasteful effects are coupled with some truly inspired sound design work to create a truly terrifying creature. The scene in which the Dementors inspect the Hogwarts Express is one of the highlights of the whole series, a chilling scene that is way too effective. 

The darker tone offers a chance to introduce more malicious creatures into the world

The sharper script focus and improved acting allows for a surprisingly effective exploration of depression (through the lenses of metaphor)

Azkaban builds to the best conclusion in the whole series. I could write 10,000 words on the degradation of the third act in modern blockbusters, wherein you have two strong first acts before throwing a villain at the hero that we don't care about and is just an excuse for a large battle. How wonderfully refreshing it is to revisit Azkaban's inventive and brilliant finale. Short version- the gang become emotionally attached to a Hippogriff, Buckbeak, who was unfortunately provoked by Malfoy and breaks his arm. Sentenced to execution, the gang soon learn that the world can be a cruel and unfair place. Further complications arise when Sirius Black corners them in the Shrieking Shack only to reveal that him and Lupin, he didn't betray Harry's parents and that it was Scabbers all along!! Long story short, they end up surrounded by Dementors and Harry blacks out (just as a blinding white light surrounds him). He wakes up in hospital and learns that Sirius has been captured. Dumbledore stumbles in and instructs Hermione on what to do. See, Hermione has very busy this years taking as many classes as possible. To the point where it appears she has been in two places at once. Through clever planting to the audience, we learn that Hermione has a Time Turner, a device that allows one to turn back time (leaving your past self in tact - an important detail - a la Back to The Future). Working undercover to avoid their past selves, Harry and Hermione work to free both Buckbeak and Sirius.  

My favourite section of Back to the Future Part II is revisiting the first film, just from a different angle. I argue that it's even better here as we're revisiting the film we have just watched. Cuarón plants plenty of little odd scenes that only make sense once viewed through a different angle. Hermione and Harry have to distract their past selves so they can accomplish their goals, explaining odd little moments earlier in the film, such as being hit in the head by a stone or another wolf cry to lure Werewolf Lupin away. I can't stress enough how well executed this is whole sequence is. Williams' soundtrack has a constant ticking clock (quiet enough so not to be distracting) to really push the time travelling element but also to give a sense of emergency. Time is literally running out. In the end, Harry and Hermione save the day and revert an unfair fate for the characters. I don't think undermines the message of a cruel, unfair world, more that our actions have consequences.  Both characters are given chance to shine, especially Hermione who ended up getting the raw end of the deal in Philosopher's by having her scenes cut from the final trails and being petrified in Chamber.

In conclusion, Azkaban is the pinnacle of the film series. Everything is given chance to breath and the world has a more lived in feel, emphasising the strange world Rowling created. Even if some sidesteps are taken in the adaptation, the emotional core of the book is intact. Azkaban is everything that the Harry Potter film series could and should have been. Cuarón gets Harry Potter more than the journeymen directors brought on after his departure from the series. Azkaban is the perfect mix of magical hi-jinks, high emotions and sense of wonderment that make it a family classic and the true stand out of the series.

I bemoan that this style was never returned to and I have a few theories on why. To be quite frank, I think it came down to box-office. Despite Azkaban having the best director, best script and beat visuals it was (and still is...) the lowest grossing Harry Potter film. The more artful direction maybe had no place in Warner Bros.' grand scheme for its all encompassing blockbuster franchise. It also came out during the dawn of the fantasy spectacle blockbuster - think of the films released at the time. The Lord of the Rings with its massive battles or Pirates of the Caribbean with its globetrotting swashbuckling adventure or the big, warm and emotional Pixar blockbusters. Then there's this slightly odd Harry Potter film that's all really about depression. Azkaban was a lot more introspective and smaller scale than the sweeping action seen in other blockbusters. I think these reasons led Warner Bros. to shift gears with the next entry, in an attempt to keep up with other contemporary action-adventure-family films, in what I dub "Harry Potter as spectacle". From here, Warner Bros. established their safe formula for the rest of the film series and would not return to the well-read, rich and artful days of Azkaban. Sucks.

Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire has an undercooked story, albeit with some intriguing elements and some truly spectacular action scenes. Goblet is probably Rowling's weakest book and a clear sign that she was suffering burnout, having written and published a Potter novel four years in a row (it would  three years before Order was unleashed on the world). With the film, Warner Bros. clearly realigned this one to match the "epic" level of contemporary fantasy blockbusters, perhaps to make it a bit more audience friendly. And the proof is in the numbers - Goblet earned $100 million more than Azkaban to become the second most successful film in the series at the time. 

Harry returns to Hogwarts, after attending the Quidditch World Cup that was subsequently trampled by Death Eaters (followers of Voldemort), to learn that an exciting event is happening - the year long Tri-Wizard Tournament. This sees three European wizarding schools coming together for a year and selecting a champion from each school (would Brexit affect this tournament?). They must take part in three deadly and dangerous to obtain the honour of becoming the Tri-Wizard champion. Older students (i.e. older than Harry) place their names in the Goblet of Fire, which than randomly selects three students from each school. Only this time, a fourth student is selected - and it's ... Harry Potter!

 

I always think of Harry and Ron's mullets when I cast my mind to Goblet of Fire...

I think Goblet does a good job of expanding the world outside of Hogwarts. Even though I'm not the biggest fan of the Qudditich World Cup scenes, all the new additions do add another dimension to Harry's world. I wish a bit more time could be given to explore the relationship between the different schools but what we have is pretty passable. It's a neat visual reminder that there is life outside of Hogwarts, even if the film doesn't really engage with what this means. I will give the Qudditch World Cup scenes this though - the attack on the camp site by Death Eaters at the end of the sequence has more relevance now than it did back when the book was first published. For all intents and purposes, it is a terrorist attack. Director Mike Newell tries to emphasises the Hitchcockian mystery side of the story but the plot itself doesn't really make a lot of sense (which I'll get to). His handling of the more "epic" material is great, in particular during the first task in which Harry has to retrieve an egg being guarded by a dragon. My ultimate issue with Goblet is that all the plot strands don't really add up to much and some are outright abandoned. There's the main plot involving the three tasks to become the Tri-Wizard champion. Then there's the mystery of who put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire (with some red herrings in there). And the Barty Crouch sub-plot. Then, finally, this all leads to the return of Voldemort. This creates a blur of a seemingly complex mystery story, when in reality it's all a bit of a mess. 

On a re-watch, the issues with the story have really became apparent. There is a lot of filler (Quidditch World Cup...) and plenty of inconsistencies in the story.  My issue with the book is that Rowling took the device of the Red Herring one step too far. What do I mean by this? Well in Philosopher's, the audience was led onto think Snape was behind it all but in reality it was Professor Quirrell. There are multiple identities thrown around in Chamber before the true Heir of Slytherin is revealed. We think Sirius is a notorious back-stabbing murderer before it is revealed it was the work of Peter Pettingrew. In Goblet, the Red Herring is the Tri-Wizard Tournament itself as we are led to think that Gorgoroth (headmaster of one of the arriving schools and a former Death Eater) is up to something when in reality it was escaped criminal Barty Crouch Jr. disguised as Mad-Eyed Moody who created a port key in the trophy that led to the Riddle family home and also ensured that Harry won the tournament so he could become a sacrificial body to help in a ritual to resurrect Voldemort after successfully obtaining the trophy...So while the scenes in the film are fun, well-constructed and, when they need to be, emotionally charged, the actual central plot of Goblet doesn't really make a lot of sense upon any kind of closer inspections. It's almost like the Tri-Wizard tournament and the resurrection of Voldemort were two separate stories that were meshed together. In the book, a bit more time is allowed is explain Crouch Jr.'s motives and how he accomplished his plan (in probably one of the weakest chapters of any Potter novel) that essentially stops the novel's pace in its tracks (the previous scene was the death of Cedric Diggory and the resurrection of Voldemort) but does allow some explanation time. The film spares us this but doesn't really find a way to cover this information in an inventive way, so Barty's plan is left a bit .. empty. I also don't like how it robs a chance to get to know the real Mad-Eye Moody and this is a problem I have both with the book and the film. We think we know him but it turns out it was a doppelganger and then we don't really get a chance to know the real Mad-Eye. Just one scene at the end of the film would have been enough. 

Mad-Eye is not the only one that gets the short shrift in the films; Sirius Black, a recurring figure in the novel is reduced to just one scene in the film. I can understand from a fimmaking point-of-view to reduce all of Sirius' conversations into one scene. However, this also actively means that the next time we see Sirius, it's in his final film. It's a big shame because Gary Oldman is great in the role. He's just the right amount of disheveled masking a true intelligence and warmth underneath. However, we are not afforded enough time to get to know him as a character and correctly set up his emotional link with Harry. Some of this is saved in the next film but Goblet should have been crucial piece in establishing their standing relationship. This again just makes me think that the emotional link between Harry and Lupin was so much stronger in the films. 

Mad Eye Moody, a great character - only we connect to Barty Crouch Jr. disguised as Mad-Eye...

I always felt with Goblet that the one truly great scene that the rest of the story is built around is the Yule Ball. Some of that teenage awkwardness from Azkaban returns here, as Harry and Ron try on ill-fitting formal attire and attempt to ask the opposite sex out on a date. And in true high school fashion, everyone ends up going out with people they don't really want to. One of my favourite scenes in the film is Harry and Ron, down in the dumps and not happy with the situation they are in. The whole 20-minute sequence is handled well, from the playful montage of preparing for the ball (and an awkward dance with McGonagall) to the rock band playing at the end of a night (watch out for cameos from Jarvis Cocker and Johnny Greenwood from Radiohead). They actually feel like .. students! Now that said, I don't think all the teen angst elements work, in particular Ron's forced conflict with Harry. Friends sometimes misunderstand other friend's motives and great angry at each other - that's fine. Ron being a bit peed off at Harry for somehow being able to place his name in the goblet without telling him (spoilers - Harry didn't do it) could be the source of some frustration but after all the things these two have been through together, you'd have thought some kind of understanding would be reached sooner. You could put it down to the hormones but .. I just don't buy it. The flipside though is that the love ... triangle ... square...octagon (?) does work well. I'll admit it - I am a bit of a sucker for this kind of thing. I think the difference with Goblet when compared to other YA stories is that it does build up correctly. There's no more perfect image than Hermione at the end crying on the main staircase in her ball gown as her hormones and feelings for Ron explode. 

All my little story issues aside, the final 30 minutes are pitched perfectly. After reaching the end of the maze for the third task, Harry is faced with a situation for the first time that he can't win. There's no last minute magical something to save him or a Back To The Future style time-travelling shenanigans. Just a dead friend. And the way that it happens is quick and cruel. Voldemort's return is handled very well and Ralph Fiennes makes an instant impact as comically over-the-top villain. I think he's a bit better in Goblet then in subsequent films, as he seems to switch between emotions seemingly on a whim. The crazy plot twist, the ritual, the death of Cedric, Voldemort's duel with Harry - it happens all so quickly, that it is disorientating. Whether through intention or not, I think this really works. We're feel like Harry - hurt and very confused. 

So I have a lot less to say about Goblet of Fire than Azkaban. It's a solid two-and-a-half hours that has plenty of great moments even if the main story doesn't really come together. It's a perfectly serviceable family fantasy film that is held up by some great performances and a confident visual style. However, upon a re-watch there are a number of issues that simply get in the way of my overall enjoyment. The main plot is very messy and the emotional arc only really comes into play in the final section of the film. Outside of the Yule Ball scenes, the arrival of the other schools don't really add much to the main story outside of window dressing. 

With the success of Goblet, the makers of the series were faced with their biggest challenge yet - adapting The Order of the Phoenix, the infamously long and bloated fifth novel. However, somehow, they pulled it off with one of the leanest and entertaining Potter films. Then watch as they fall back into bad habits with film six, Half-Blood Prince. Both of these films will be explored in part three - The Art of the Adaptation. 

Side-Note

So it took me a while to publish this one for several reasons. This entry was being composed just as I was moving home from Huddersfield to Manchester. It was a manic time but Part Two of my Potter retrospective was just about done for moving date. But I was unsatisfied. It felt unfinished. And as boxes began to empty and we made our new home feel like our home I couldn't put my finger on what it needed. Then several months passed. Doh. I re-read it today though and I'm actually mostly happy with it, in particular the Azkaban section, so I thought "what hey, why not publish it". Hopefully, I can get this rounded off this year. The Ghibli Retrospectives have been on a short hiatus, as the Princess Mononoke article has proven to be a massive undertaking. Hopefully, I will be able to publish both parts this week and get moving onto the next films in the back catalogue.