Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
(2007)
(SPOILERS) The beginning of the homogenisation of Harry Potter, assuming you didn’t think
he was a wholly homogenised product to begin with. And by that, I’m not
necessarily levelling a charge –Harry
Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is qualitatively second only to Prisoner of Azkaban at this point in the
running – but rather pointing out that David Yates has been the appointed ship’s
captain ever since, even into the new prequel quintilogy. It means you’re going
to get a reliably similar result, fine if you adore what’s on offer, so if
you’re looking for a different take, spin or insight into the source material,
your luck’s out.
My biggest criticism of Yates is probably an obvious and
oft-levelled one; that he enforces on the series a rather drab, monotone digital
colour grading in post, lending each scene an undifferentiated wash effect,
except in as much as the wash may be green, or brown or blue (often green). Some
may consider the results atmospheric, but I tend to see them as rather bland,
the sort of thing you witnessed with the Underworld
series and hoped it stayed there. This clearly isn’t down to the
cinematographer, as Yates only used Slawomir Idziak on this movie and would
work with someone different for each of his subsequent excursions (counting Deathly Hallows as one movie).
If you can get past that, and the effect is cumulative,
rather than instantaneous with Order of
the Phoenix, Yates brings to the series a tonal confidence and visual
acuity that reaps dividends, albeit David Heyman might have overstated the
value of his eye for the political, honed via TV, focussing on material that is
earnest in its intentions but no less crude for all that in its content (one
can forgive Emma Watson for interpreting Order
of the Phoenix’s message in light of the 7/7/05 attacks, as she was young
and doubtless prone to such seizures, although her comment “Facing the fact that authority is corrupted
means having a non-conformist approach to reality and power” is curious
within that context).
The political dimension is a lesson on the dangers of
groupthink and – an evergreen to those who believe it miraculously materialised
in the Trump era – fake news, as the real danger approaching fast in the rear-view
mirror is obnoxiously disdained and denied by the Ministry of Magic (a continually
marvellous Robert Hardy; his performance has been one of the resounding
pleasures of revisiting these movies, and it’s only a shame that Fudge’s
admission of error and banishment from the series at the end of this chapter is
both perfunctory and permanent), to the extent that a new totalitarian impulse
is enforced over Hogwarts at the imposition of new Defence Against the Dark
Arts professor Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton), getting her hooks in and
supplanting Dumbledore.
Honestly, Voldemort may be a vision of evil, but Umbridge,
thanks to Staunton’s Mary Whitehouse-by-way-of-Joseph Stalin prim-and-proper
nightmare performance, is possibly the most sublimely disturbing creation in
the Potter-verse. She isn’t a subtle
character, and there are still frankly unlikely crowd-pleaser moments – her running
screaming from the Weasely twins’ phantom snake – but Staunton breathes
twitchy, prissy, sadistic life into Umbridge, and that her means of detention
torture (“I must not tell lies” lines
tattooed onto the detainee’s hand) leads to her own comeuppance (Harry parrots the
instruction back at her when she asks him to explain to a mob of centaurs that
she means no harm) is satisfyingly neat.
Michael Goldenberg (Contact,
the 2003 Peter Pan, one of those
chewed up by Green Lantern) was
responsible for cutting down longest book in the series, and I can’t say I
noticed anything that felt short-changed this time. Indeed, there are areas
where there might have been further pruning (despite the running time being
relatively spruce). The picture starts off incredibly well, a hot oppressive
afternoon turning nightmarish as Harry is confronted by Dementors (disturbing,
but not quite as well envisaged as in Prisoner
of Azkaban; you notice this in other aspects too, such as Sirius in the
fire being a basic superimposition, rather than Order of the Phoenix’s CGI coals, or revisiting the series’
surprising capacity for crappy CGI, with Hagrid’s half-brother Grawp, who would
have looked at home in the first movie) and saving his blinged-up cousin from
death, leading to his trial for magicking in the presence of muggles.
Subsequent elements of mystery – why is Dumbeldore shunning
his pupil – are well-sustained, but others that are apparently significant but
turn out to be disposable. The bottled prophecy is the very definition of a
McGuffin (the reasons for attaining it are sketchy, its value nebulous, and it
ultimately amounts to nothing). Meanwhile, as indebtedness to Star Wars goes, the vision of torture
that entraps Harry is about as The Empire
Strikes Back as it gets. And, of course, there’s too little Sirius Black.
In a way, like Prisoner of Azkaban,
this is a good thing, showing that Rowling (or the adaptors) recognises the
power of a mythical hero as much as they understand the need to pull someone down
who assumes such status. Like Boba Fett, Black is cooler the less you see of
him, and killed off rather ignominiously before you can see more of him.
Besides Staunton, two new additions to the cast deserve
particular comment. Helena Bonham-Carter summons her goth-trash psycho from Fight Club as Belllatrix Lestrange, a
complete fruit loop and slayer of Sirius (another Star Wars nod, as Voldemort is willing to sacrifice her, a devoted
minion, in order to ensnare the services of a bigger fish). Evanna Lynch also
makes an impression as “Loony” Luna Lovegood, delivering in grandly dippy
fashion, with something of a junior Carol Kane air.
Which leads me to the leads. At this point, I think Watson
may have peaked with Prisoner of Azkaban,
although her scenes of banter with Grint are always highlights – “I’m sure his kissing is more than
satisfactory” she recriminates regarding Harry’s fumbling foray – while Radcliffe shows himself a merely
sufficient lead. There’s never a sense he doesn’t need to be supported by the
material, even if it would be unfair to suggest he provides other than dedicated
competence throughout.
His deficiencies are particularly pronounced in the
picture’s least successful – and seemingly endless – episode, where he’s called
to teach magic – after Umbridge has sanctioned only its theoretical use – to
his fellow pupils and the picture begins to sway listlessly on the spot, unable
to sustain itself without someone in command of the situation (even playing
someone who isn’t in command of the situation). Contrast that with his scenes opposite
Rickman’s Snape, training Potter to protect himself from Voldemort’s influence,
and it’s illustration of how a more experienced performer can elevate his
junior’s game. Radcliffe is likewise okay with Harry’s “What if I’m becoming
bad?” subplot, which only really feels like lip service (to Luke Skywalker),
and consequently there’s no chance we’re going to see it as feasible; indeed,
the most effective moment comes via his CG-enhanced, possessed visage as Voldemort’s
voice takes over.
Perhaps the best, most upturning scene in the movies results
from the Snape sessions, as the revered parent is brought crashing down to
earth when Harry gains an insight into the bullying Snape received from his
beloved departed father. (“Your father
was a swine!”) And, unlike other instalments, where a question is left
hanging that creates confusion, here I felt the lack of clarity over whether
Snape, having been trusted with vital information by Harry (“He’s got Padfoot in the place that is hidden”),
actually did anything with it (the novel makes it clear Snape contacted
Sirius), was a means to intentionally seed doubts that would become important
in the following movie.
Sirius Black: A war? It feels like it did before.
This is the first time we get a proper sense of duelling
wizards, and it’s pleasing to see Yates’ dedication to creating a choreography
of battle and movement. I’m guessing one has to accept a shorthand compared to
the novels, however, such that understanding ability and means must be assumed
and wands are effectively used to “laser zap”; we have little insight into the
strategies or accompanying spells and counter spells that might be used in an
encounter (when Harry and chums are warding off the Death Eaters in the
Ministry of Magic, before being subdued by them, it seems doubtful that they’re
able to consistently conjure without any substantial response from their more experienced
attackers). It slightly undermines the effect, as there needs to be a degree of
quantification to the rules in such altercations. There’s also a “We all stand
together” theme running through this, effectively made good on in the Ministry
sequence, but it rather crumbles to basics when Rowling rearranges the
furniture to focus on Harry and Voldemort once more (so Harry was right, and he
should have gone it alone, for all the good it did?)
Nevertheless, the fight is far and away superior to the CGI
ones in the Star Wars prequels (their
closest comparisons), while the one between Dumbeldore and Voldemort bears
similarities to both The Lord of the
Rings and Big Trouble in Little China,
of all movies (the conjuring of avatars). Again, though, following Goblet of Fire, there’s a slight sense
of also-ran with the climax appearances by He Who Must Not be Named; they needed
to go that extra step beyond the moustache-twirling villain who lives to fight
another day, and never quite get there.
David Heyman suggested the picture was thematically about “teen rebellion and the abuse of power” and
those elements are undoubtedly in the mix, but Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is at its best when it isn’t highlighting its subtext, preaching
to the choir being Rowling’s weakness. Still, if it must go for the obvious,
having someone like Staunton, who can make her character sharp, funny and unnerving, is a godsend. At the end,
Dumbledore delivers one of his accustomed trite platitudes: “Harry, it isn’t
how you’re alike. It is how you are not” One might say the same for the remainder
of the series, as we’re looking for differentiators beneath the surface
trappings from here on out. That said, the next stop would be a surprising winner…
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.