Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II
(2010)
(SPOILERS) The final Harry
Potter is somewhat better than I recalled, but it still counts as a
disappointment following a significant run of quality since David Yates took
over on megaphone duties. I was put in mind at times of the Wachowski sisters’ Matrix capper, in which much of the
running time is given over to uninvolving battle action featuring characters we
wonder why we should care about. Harry
Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II’s particular saving grace is the
resolution of the Snape arc, but it isn’t enough in a movie that feels long and
bloated despite being the shortest in the series.
Adding to the The
Matrix Revolutions vibe, there are even repeats early on of other sequences
previously done better, most notably Ron and Hermione taking Polyjuice Potion
and visiting the Gringott’s for a spot of thievery; it’s a far less notable
retread of the Ministry heist in Part I.
Flying sequences continue to look less than perfect (the escape from Gringott’s
on a dragon) and cameos emphasise a disconnect that was solved by judicious pruning
hitherto (John Hurt, who appeared briefly in Part I, was last sighted in Philosopher’s
Stone).
Other characters are built up for hero moments in the
“thrilling” assault on Hogwarts, but missing out on audience investment in
their fates, they amount to little more than lip service to the idea of the
less obvious being equal in stature to the true heroes. Professor McGonagall
finally gets to do something (seeing off Snape), but I’m still none the wiser
about who she is eight films in. Julie Walters’ Molly Weasley invokes Aliens when she instructs Bellatrix to
get away from her daughter you bitch, but attempts to switch a character from
fringe comic relief doesn’t really work this way.
The worst offender is Neville Longbottom (I want to call him
Sidebottom, and Voldemort clearly found the name funny too; at least you can’t
accuse the Dark Lord of lacking a sense of humour), whose repeated bravery –
and decidedly unrallying speechifying – can’t disguise the fact that he’s an
utterly uninteresting character (again, I’m quite prepared to grant that a lot
of these things may, probably even do, work better on the page). I don’t need
to know that “Luna... I’m mad for her!”
as Rowling takes the aphrodisiac qualities of mortal peril rather too
literally; in the heat of this battle, it appears, it’s open season to be
distracted from your mission and fulfil your lusty passions (after the relative
maturity of Half-Blood Prince, this
libidinous free-for-all is a definite retrograde step).
As, of course, Ron and Hermione finally clinch, leading to a
rush of masculine protective feeling in the lad (“That’s my girlfriend, you numpties!”) There’s something vaguely
rote about most of the progressions here, including Draco not being quite as
bad as all that (indeed, in twenty years he’ll be nodding to Harry at the train
station). Rowling includes some attention-holding twists and turns, including the
true current ownership of the Elder Wand and the happy introduction of the Resurrection
Stone, but as a whole, the progression is much too linear, and some sequences
(Harry pleading with another ghost, Kelly Madonald’s Helena Ravenclaw) are
simply inert.
The dying/resurrection is appropriately positioned to yield
maximum impact, but the execution proves entirely underwhelming, these sorts of
confrontations tending to work better on the page than on screen, unless the
filmmaker is that one step beyond (and Yates is a decent filmmaker, but he
isn’t that). I’ll take a clever over spectacular finale every time, and Rowling
had the material to make it the former, but the bloat that derives from cutting
the material in halves means the latter is where the emphasis lies, and the
result is a let-down.
In contrast, the Snape Pensieve sequence is about as close
as the series gets to perfection, retracing the route of the Professor’s affiliations
and afflictions, and treatment of Harry. with different eyes and entirely
rehabilitating him in the process. Rowling’s still alive, even at this point,
to the potential for withholding, such that Dumbledore’s motivations with
regard to Harry (already trailed by a scene with Ciaran Hinds as his brother) initially
seem entirely ruthless (“You’ve kept him
alive so he can die at the proper moment… You’ve been raising him like a pig to
slaughter”). The subsequent after-realm, however, is seriously lacking in
inspiration, offering as it does the comforting glow of familiarity, safety,
nurture and benign oversight via Force ghost Dumbledore… and Voldemort resembling
a discarded Doctor design from The Last
of the Time Lords.
Running with that cosiness is the final scene, two decades
on, with the slightly chilling vision of unchanging generational repetition:
all these characters still together, now with their own kids, shepherding them
off to Hogwarts (you can see this kind of emotionally turgid resolution in other
ongoing fantasy fare, from Lost to Doctor Who, but that doesn’t make it any
more excusable). And Rowling has further indulged this, of course, with a very
popular stage play that will doubtless become a movie at some point (or, more
likely still, a new series of movies in due course, after Fantastic Beasts has expired; Rowling’s Episodes VII-IX, if you will). I’m sure the scene isn’t supposed to
be depressing, but my only consolation was they didn’t go overboard with old
age makeup. Harry Potter and the Deathly
Hallows Part II succeeds in closing the saga, but then adds that bit more,
which is symptomatic of filmmakers taking the opportunity to stuff the picture
with every little cameo they can. Sometimes less is more and enforced limits
can be their own reward.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.
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