You've kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment.

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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Poor Easy Breezy.

Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood (2019)
(SPOILERS) My initial reaction to Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood was mild disbelief that Tarantino managed to hoodwink studios into coming begging to make it, so wilfully perverse is it in disregarding any standard expectations of narrative or plotting. Then I remembered that studios, or studios that aren’t Disney, are desperate for product, and more especially, product that might guarantee them a hit. Quentin’s latest appears to be that, but whether it’s a sufficient one to justify the expense of his absurd vanity project remains to be seen.

I just hope my death makes more cents than my life.

Joker (2019)
(SPOILERS) So the murder sprees didn’t happen, and a thousand puff pieces desperate to fan the flames of such events and then told-ya-so have fallen flat on their faces. The biggest takeaway from Joker is not that the movie is an event, when once that seemed plausible but not a given, but that any mainstream press perspective on the picture appears unable to divorce its quality from its alleged or actual politics. Joker may be zeitgeisty, but isn’t another Taxi Driver in terms of cultural import, in the sense that Taxi Driver didn’t have a Taxi Driver in mind when Paul Schrader wrote it. It is, if you like, faux-incendiary, and can only ever play out on that level. It might be more accurately described as a grubbier, grimier (but still polished and glossy) The Talented Ripley, the tale of developing psychopathy, only tailored for a cinemagoing audience with few options left outside of comic book fare.

So you want me to be half-monk, half-hitman.

Casino Royale (2006)
(SPOILERS) Despite the doubts and trepidation from devotees (too blonde, uncouth etc.) that greeted Daniel Craig’s casting as Bond, and the highly cynical and low-inspiration route taken by Eon in looking to Jason Bourne's example to reboot a series that had reached a nadir with Die Another Day, Casino Royale ends up getting an enormous amount right. If anything, its failure is that it doesn’t push far enough, so successful is it in disarming itself of the overblown set pieces and perfunctory plotting that characterise the series (even at its best), elements that would resurge with unabated gusto in subsequent Craig excursions.

For the majority of its first two hours, Casino Royale is top-flight entertainment, with returning director Martin Campbell managing to exceed his excellent work reformatting Bond for the ‘90s. That the weakest sequence (still good, mind) prior to the finale is a traditional “big” (but not too big) action set piece involving an attempt to…

They literally call themselves “Decepticons”. That doesn’t set off any red flags?

Bumblebee (2018)
(SPOILERS) Bumblebee is by some distance the best Transformers movie, simply by dint of having a smattering of heart (one might argue the first Shia LaBeouf one also does, and it’s certainly significantly better than the others, but it’s still a soulless Michael Bay “machine”). Laika VP and director Travis Knight brings personality to a series that has traditionally consisted of shamelessly selling product, by way of a nostalgia piece that nods to the likes of Herbie (the original), The Iron Giant and even Robocop.

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

Welcome to the future. Life is good. But it can be better.

20 to See in 2020
Not all of these movies may find a release date in 2020, given Hollywood’s propensity for shunting around in the schedules along with the vagaries of post-production. Of my 21 to See in 2019, there’s still Fonzo, Benedetta, You Should Have Left, Boss Level and the scared-from-its-alloted-date The Hunt yet to see the light of day. I’ve re-included The French Dispatch here, however. I've yet to see Serenity and The Dead Don’t Die. Of the rest, none were wholly rewarding. Netflix gave us some disappointments, both low profile (Velvet Buzzsaw, In the Shadow of the Moon) and high (The Irishman), and a number of blockbusters underwhelmed to a greater or lesser extent (Captain Marvel, Spider-Man: Far From Home, Terminator: Dark Fate, Gemini Man, Star Wars: The Rise of the Skywalker). Others (Knives Out, Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood, John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum) were interesting but flawed. Even the more potentially out there (Joker, Us, Glass, Rocketman) couldn…

It’s like an angry white man’s basement in here.

Bad Boys for Life (2020)
(SPOILERS) The reviews for Bad Boys for Life have, perhaps surprisingly, skewed positive, given that it seemed exactly the kind of beleaguered sequel to get slaughtered by critics. Particularly so since, while it’s a pleasure to see Will Smith and Martin Lawrence back together as Mike and Marcus, the attempts to validate this third outing as a more mature, reflective take on their buddy cops is somewhat overstated. Indeed, those moments of reflection or taking stock arguably tend to make the movie as a whole that much glibber, swiftly succeeded as they are by lashings of gleeful ultra-violence or humorous shtick. Under Michael Bay, who didn’t know the definition of a lull, these pictures scorned any opportunity to pause long enough to assess the damage, and were healthier, so to speak, for that. Without him, Bad Boys for Life’s beats often skew closer to standard 90s action fare.

I'm reliable, I'm a very good listener, and I'm extremely funny.

Terminator: Dark Fate (2019)
(SPOILERS) When I wrote my 23 to see in 2019, I speculated that James Cameron might be purposefully giving his hand-me-downs to lesser talents because he hubristically didn’t want anyone making a movie that was within a spit of the proficiency we’ve come to expect from him. Certainly, Robert Rodriguez and Tim Miller are leagues beneath Kathryn Bigelow, Jimbo’s former spouse and director of his Strange Days screenplay. Miller’s no slouch when it comes to action – which is what these movies are all about, let’s face it – but neither is he a craftsman, so all those reviews attesting that Terminator: Dark Fate is the best in the franchise since Terminator 2: Judgment Day may be right, but there’s a considerable gulf between the first sequel (which I’m not that big a fan of) and this retcon sequel to that sequel.

To defeat the darkness out there, you must defeat the darkness inside yourself.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010)
Easily the best of the Narnia films, which is maybe damning it with faint praise.

Michael Apted does a competent job directing (certainly compared to his Bond film - maybe he talked to his second unit this time), Dante Spinotti's cinematography is stunning and the CGI mostly well-integrated with the action.

Performance-wise, Will Poulter is a stand-out as a tremendously obnoxious little toff, so charismatic you're almost rooting for him. Simon Pegg replaces Eddie Izzard as the voice of Reepicheep and delivers a touching performance.
***

You’re a slut with a snake in your mouth. Die!

Mickey One (1965)
(SPOILERS) Apparently this early – as in, two years before the one that made them both highly sought-after trailblazers of “New Hollywood” – teaming between Warren Beatty and Arthur Penn has undergone a re-evaluation since its initial commercial and critical drubbing. I’m not sure about all that. Mickey One still seems fatally half-cocked to me, with Penn making a meal of imitating the stylistic qualities that came relatively naturally – or at least, Gallically – to the New Wave.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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