Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
(2002)
(SPOILERS) More of the same really, continuing Chris
Columbus’ unswerving mode of following Steve Kloves’ sticking like glue to JK
Rowling’s early structural template. Another mystery on the Hogwarts premises
(you’d have thought the teachers would try to keep the kids clear of mortal
peril until they’d at least graduated) that inevitably ties in to Voldermort. It’s
marginally more honed this time, though, which means that when Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets –
even the title is eminently resistible – finally knuckles down, it flows
better. Unfortunately, it also has several major red flags to contend with.
Dobby. Sure, he’s supposed
to be annoying, I know. Gollum by way of Jar Jar Binks. But did he have to be
so wretchedly designed (not remedied by house elves of later instalments)? Some
of the CG in this film is pretty good (the Basilisk, for one, and the flying
car for another), but Dobby is never more than Smeagol-lite in attributes. Toby
Jones voices him with duly pathetic dedication, but a fitting end would have
been to have the elf’s head shoved in a blender, rather than being granted release
from service to Lucius Malfoy.
It’s also a considerable problem how unwarrantedly long this
movie is. Does it need to be pushing towards three hours, particularly when you
could happily lose most of the first 40 minutes and barely notice? Doubtless
Harry will be redone as a Netflix TV show at some point and at such a time this
will seem positively spry, but as it is, the only verdict can be guilty as
charged of indulgence in the first degree.
Exhibit C is Gilderoy Lockhart, the Frank Spencer of the
wizarding world. It’s a decent performance from Sir Ken, much breezier and
possessed of a light comedy touch than his recent Poirot, but the character beggars
belief. Are we really to believe that a narcissist celebrity wizard is
venerated by other wizards despite being patently inept at every turn? Why does
he continually volunteer to perform spells in front of his peers if he knows
he’s terrible at them? JK must have at least considered this point, as at one
point Gilderoy imparts that the only thing he is (conveniently) any cop at is
memory charms (by means of which he stole credit for others’ achievements).
Unless he was intending to perform one on the entirety of Hogwarts, though, it
doesn’t really wash.
Countering that are several sterling additions, though. Jason Isaacs is magnificently composed in his malevolence as Lucius, and there’s an
enjoyable scene (relatively) early on where he and Mark Williams’ Arthur
Weasely cross paths. Very different characters and performers, but it’s a treat
to see them bring that into play (likewise, it would have been nice to see more
between Lockhart and Snape, so evident is the latter’s disdain for the former).
Shirley Henderson’s Moaning Myrtle is also memorable. Nice
to see Robert Hardy as the Minister for Magic too, who instantly seems like
he’s always been there. I have to say, however, I find Robbie Coltrane’s “ever
so ‘umble” giant-of-the-people serf irritating for the assumption we’re
supposed to love him. That’s the class system for you.
As with its predecessor, elements of the novel’s plot are
rather lost in translation. The gist of the opening of the Chamber of Secrets
is explanatory enough, and the reveal regarding Tom Riddle is reasonably sound;
that, through the awesome power of anagrams, he’s a younger version of
Voldermort attempting to manifest. But it entirely escaped me that Lucius (at
least in the books) didn’t realise the diary’s properties when he stowed it in
Ginny Weasely’s cauldron (apparently to rid himself of an incriminating dark
object and bring Arthur into disrepute – which all seems bit thin). Perhaps
Voldermort should have been a touch clearer in his instructions.
By and large, Chamber
of Secrets is amiable but very forgettable; it’s never a good sign when the
most annoying elements (Dobby, Gilderoy) are the ones that stick in the mind.
There is, fair’s fair, an amusing sequence in which Harry and Ron transform
themselves into Slytherin boys in order to find out what Draco knows, but
there’s also another of those quidditch games to get confused by. And Rupert
Grint’s still streets ahead of the other juniors performance-wise at this
stage, with Emma Watson’s rather over-emphatic delivery leaving her trailing a
distant third.
So Harry Potter and
the Chamber of Secrets was Columbus’ last real involvement with the series
(he retained a nominal producer credit); after this, the results would be
universally more engaging and less sugar-coated (Columbus would try his hand at
Young Adult again with Percy Jackson,
but his directing career has been noticeably subdued since). Also Richard
Harris’ final appearance as Dumbledore, sadly. The first two entries are much
as I remembered them, undemanding, overly beholden adaptations that give non-fans
little reason to invest themselves in the material. Fortunately, that would
change in one fell swoop.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.