Movie Monday: The Hunger Games

Contains spoilers

As I'm sure I don't need to tell you, The Hunger Games has been one of the year's most eagerly-anticipated films, and is surely the biggest book-to-film adaptation since the final installment of the Harry Potter series. (Breaking Dawn, part 1, by contrast barely registered on my radar.) I'm probably the last blogger to write about the film. The blogosphere has been buzzing since the first casting, with countdowns galore and every bit of news examined under microscopes. We've all been holding our breath for this film - but with such hype, could it possibly live up to expectations?

I'm going to come out and possibly make myself very unpopular, but for me, no it didn't. It was a good film. Some parts were very good indeed. But the book had taken such a hold of my imagination that the film just could not match up.

The casting was flawless - well, nearly flawless (Donald Sutherland as President Snow was good, but not how I imagined him.) I had no complaint with any of the actors. Even, perhaps especially, the youngest members of the main cast, were many times better in their small roles than the stars of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Leading the cast was Jennifer Lawrence, who was Katniss Everdeen. Considering how much of the book is made up of her internal monologue, Lawrence was able to convey much of this without saying a word. Her eyes! I could not fault her for a moment, expressing just the right amounts of toughness, tenderness and attitude.

I loved Cinna: the sole calm, sane, genuine person to see
through the hysteria of the Hunger Games.

My favourite parts of the film were the scenes shot in the Capitol. It was fascinating to see it visualised, with the weird costumes, and the mixture of science-fiction city and Hollywood. The film highlighted the jarring contrast with the cruel reality of what lay in wait for the tributes with the way it was being presented to the audience, which made me think of the endless adverts for the London 2012 Olympics we had to sit through beforehand. This is sick, I thought. The fact that we, too, were sitting here watching, for entertainment, a film about people watching kids killing each other for their entertaiment, brought me one stage closer to the reality of Panem. It was fascinating, and very well done, but uncomfortable viewing. I think it it hadn't been uncomfortable it would have failed.

I won't spoil the effect for you.

I loved the Girl On Fire dresses. The first was awesome, though rather what I had expected. The second, on Caesar Flickerman's show, I was not expecting. I had seen clips and photos of Katniss in her red dress, but had managed to be unspoiled for her big twirl, with her skirt looking like flames. That was stunning, breathtaking.

My favourite scenes were the assessment, in which Katniss, disgusted that the gamemakers weren't even watching her, fires an arrow straight at their table. I loved Effie Trinket's horrified reaction afterwards, and worry about her "bad manners."

I had been sure, reading the book, that I would lose interest during the games themselves. Great, long scenes of Katniss, alone, with little interaction with any others, surviving in the woods, shouldn't interest me, but I kept my attention. During the film, on the other hand, I did find my mind wandering. Maybe it was because I knew exactly what was going to happen, or perhaps action scenes just don't interest me much. Without Katniss' narration, I felt disconnected from what was going on. We were watching as spectators, rather than as tributes. One way we did benefit from the lack of first-person-narration was that we were shown behind the scenes of the Hunger Games, watching the Gamemakers at work, the President discussing with Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane the politics of the Games, and the commentary by TV host Caesar Flickerman - useful for exposition.

Rue. Sweet, wonderful little Rue. 

I had wondered how on earth they would keep this true to the book and yet keep it as a 12A certificate (PG-13 in the USA.*) The violence was shown very fast, with jittery camerawork, so that although you get a rush of images, they are too much of a blur to take in anything graphic. Still, with the relentless killing, the cast numbers ever decreasing, I felt heartsick. When I had sat through the tracker-jackers - without throwing up or running from the cinema (I am terrified of wasps) - Rue's death, Cato's murder of the boy who let him down as well as the occasion offscreen scream or thump of the cannons, and realised there were still 5 tributes left, I thought enough. 

So much is made of the "romance" between Katniss and Peeta, but in the movie, it seemed tacked on unnecessarily. Of course it was necessary to the plot, but because they spend so little time apart, I wasn't convinced in the slightest. It all seemed to come from nowhere, with the pair showing no sign that they even liked each other very much. They'd say the right words but I didn't see them as anything other than strangers who had recently become acquaintances. Katniss spent so much time alone in the arena that when she was reunited with Peeta, it seemed like they were meeting for the first time all over again. They hadn't a steady interaction to build up to attraction, even faked. Their task for Catching Fire? "Convince me."

Seneca Crane's beard. Come on!

As I felt when I first read the book, the ending was bittersweet. Katniss and Peeta's victory was a hollow one. They had survived, but nothing had changed and the world was as heavy and oppressive as ever. If this were a stand-alone movie, I would find it a very depressing ending indeed. Weirdly, the fact that the last scenes foreshadowed even worse to come were what saved it from being irredeemably gloomy. Things must get worse before they get better, after all.  I was very impressed by the added scene that showed the eventual fate of Seneca Crane (and his incredible beard!) It seemed so fitting considering how this futuristic, science-fictional world evokes the ancient civilisations. Clever.

Overall, The Hunger Games was a very faithful adaptation of the novels, but perhaps it was too faithful. I think that a film needs to complement its original material rather than copying it, in order to give it more depth and dimensions. Still, it was a well-made and thought-provoking movie. To actually see the youth of the tributes and hear the jubilant cheers of the Capitol citizens helped to bring the story to life. It was a dark, rather sombre film, even more so than I had expected from reading the books, but I think it had to be. This is not a story to be treated lightly, and the Hunger Games movie was intelligent and respectful of its source material, as well as a decent film in its own right.

*Apparently 7 seconds were cut from the UK edition. Those 7 seconds were apparently suitable for a 13-year-old to watch unaccompanied, but not a 12-year-old.

Movie Monday: Anne of Green Gables (1934 film)

Marilla, walking home one late April evening from an Aid meeting, realised that the winter was over and gone with the thrill of delight that spring never fails to bring to the oldest and saddest as well as to the youngest and merriest.

As in 1880 Prince Edward Island, so in 2012 on the Isle of Wight, spring begins to show itself. As the days grow longer, the sun becomes more visible and I find raspberry cordial for sale in Marks and Spencer, I realise it is time to be reacquainted with Anne of Green Gables. After a stressful week at work, my DVD and book came off the shelves almost of their own accord, and I took refuge with my oldest, most faithful literary friend.

Browsing Youtube, I found to my gratitude that someone had uploaded a much older Anne of Green Gables film, back from 1934. This is the film starring the actress who loved the character so much that she changed her stage name to Anne Shirley. Of course I had to watch it!

Being quite a short film, I felt that it was more "scenes from Anne of Green Gables" than a smoothly-run story,   though, at least to start with, it is pretty faithful. About the first half of the film is straight from the book, the dialogue lifted right off the pages. Mrs Lynde becomes Mrs Rachel Barry, and Diana's mother, which shocks the mind a bit when your mind knows the context inside out, knows the next word is "Lynde" and instead you hear "Barry." But it is a prudent choice for a film with a small cast and makes sense - or would do, if there were any reason to include Diana at all. In this film, Anne and Diana's friendship, which is much the heart of the book as the turbulent relationship between Anne and Gilbert, or Anne and the Cuthbert siblings, exists only to draw attention to how it is neglected. It would be less conspicuous if Diana were omitted entirely, as so many other characters are.

Anne Shirley (the actress) is sweet as Anne, and entirely convincing - part of the time. When Anne is caught up in her vivid imaginings and dreamworlds, "pretty nearly perfectly happy," she is as Anneish as anyone other than the Anne in my head could be (let's face it, as Anneish as anyone other than I could, if I had red hair, a Canadian accent and a pretty nose.) However, Anne Shirley (the character) spans a huge emotional range, from ecstatic joy to "the depths of despair," from intelligent, dreamy tranquility to a fiery temper, and Anne Shirley (the actress) only convinced me in the happy end of this scale. She was Anne, but not the whole Anne, the starry-eyed dreamer, but not the neglected, unloved orphan child. Anne was aged up to fourteen when Marilla and Matthew adopted her, but this didn't work for me. Much of Anne's appeal comes from the incongruity of having such a little girl with such a big vocabulary, and where I could expect an eleven-year-old or even thirteen-year-old Anne to break slates over Gilbert Blythe's head, or need to ask how to say her prayers, it did not quite ring true in this self-assured fourteen-year-old Anne.

But the most unconvincing part of this Anne was when Mrs Lynde - sorry, Barry - observed that "They didn't pick you for your looks" and called her "skinny and ugly."

Well, just look at her!

Matthew was quite adorable, all doleful-looking in dungarees and big puppy-dog eyes, shy but stubborn in his own way, and full of heart and a little more awareness of a sense of humour than Book-Matthew. He needs it - because by contrast, Marilla lacks the subtleties of the real Marilla, and comes across as usually, but inconsistantly angry, instead of merely repressed and strict. I felt that the filmmakers had looked at the words of the Marilla of the book, but failed to see the depths of a very complex character, taking all her words at face value and portraying the character thus. If this was all there was to Marilla, I didn't see that Anne would be much better off at Green Gables than at Mrs Blewitt's.

After the slate-breaking incident, however, the film goes off at a tangent, bending and rewriting the story to fit around the relationship with Gilbert and only the relationship with Gilbert, a Gilbert who, though kind of cute, is not Anne's match, a bit yokelly and telling her she reads too much.

Still, it's not a bad film, especially when you consider how old a film it is - older than The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind - with a tiny cast and running at less than an hour and a half. Curiously, I recognised some little moments in this film that were not in the book which must have influenced the makers of the later TV serial - notably when Anne attempts to "wrap Gilbert around her little finger," and get him to pay attention to her. Considering that Anne hated Gilbert at this point in the TV serial, it jarred with me as out of character (I ranted a bit about that in my review in 2009) but made a bit more sense if you include the earlier film in the Green Gables canon.

I missed many of the beloved scenes - the hair-dying, the raspberry cordial escapade, the story club - but the filmmakers had to pick and choose which story they were going to tell, and they went with the romance. And I'll admit it, I succumbed to the warm fuzzies, despite the omissions and changes to the plot.

It is Anne of Green Gables, after all.*

*which is more than I can say for the later installments of the Kevin Sullivan series. I refuse to recognise anything past Anne of Green Gables: The Sequel.

Movie Monday: Sweeney Todd

The Demon Barber of Fleet Street


Ah, don’t you love a good musical? Jolly-jolly, feel-good fun-and games, full of cheery cockneys bursting into song at the slightest provocation; fun for all the family! No? Perhaps not. In 2007, Tim Burton took on the challenge of adapting Stephen Sondheim’s classic tale of madness, revenge and pies; a bleak and blood-soaked, yet darkly comic masterpiece, with murders you can really hum.*

I confess, my initial reaction to hearing about this film was to groan and roll my eyes at the casting. Nothing against either Johnny Depp or Helena Bonham Carter, both of whom I have a great respect for, but I felt that the Burton/Depp/Bonham-Carter collaborations were getting a bit beyond a joke. There are other actors in the world, you know. And the trailer didn’t help matters. Depp’s mockney accent was disconcertingly reminiscent of his role as Captain Jack Sparrow. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to shake the loveable rogue from my mind, but his first appearance allayed my fears. The characters may share the accent and cheekbones, but there the resemblance ends. The hatred and sarcasm that infuses every word as he sneers, “There’s no place like London!” is as far from the irrepressible pirate as you can get. In fact, when I saw a clip of a Pirates film recently, it took me a moment to remind myself that it actually was the same actor. Todd’s mind is a dark, bitter place, seen through dead-looking eyes occasionally animated by a crazed spark.

Yet Sondheim’s version of Sweeney Todd is more than just a pantomime psychopath, but a man driven over the edge by injustice, grief and an obsession with revenge. His backstory helps the viewer to understand his motivation and not quite disapprove as much as one might expect. After all: “It’s man devouring man, my dear/and who are we to deny it in here?” I have to say, I agree with Discworld's Sam Vimes, and can't see why anyone would want someone else waving a sharp blade anywhere near their neck in the first place. Especially if one is a creep and a villain who makes enemies like Mrs Lovett makes pies.


There is a stellar cast featuring many Harry Potter veterans – perhaps not surprising as most British actors have featured in that series – all Death Eaters, former Death Eaters or other Dark Wizards. As well as Helena Bonham Carter, we have a gloriously disturbing performance from Alan Rickman as the evil Judge Turpin, and Timothy “Wormtail” Spall as the crawling yes-man Beadle Bamford. Finally, newcomer Jamie Campbell Bower (Gellert Grindelwald) appears as the young romantic hero, whose name refuses to stick in my head and so therefore will be called Pretty Boy forever and always. Campbell Bower had a lovely tenor singing voice, but his facial acting was, shall we say, not quite there yet. I discussed this with my sister during the scenes in which he was caught “gandering” at Sweeney’s daughter by her guardian Judge Turpin.

Me: If Alan Rickman’s Voice was doing that to me, I wouldn’t be looking mildly curious. I wouldn’t need to act; I’d actually be terrified.

Jen: I don’t know; I think this is his "”I’m peeing myself and trying not to look cold and damp” look.

Maybe my heart is as black as Sweeney’s, but I found the love story between Johanna and Pretty Boy rather silly, if not downright Twilight-creepy. Either Pretty Boy is lacking some of his wits, or has a misplaced sense of chivalry, but after being beaten and thrown from the house, he’s promising to “steal you/Johanna!” One wonders whether Johanna is fated to exchange a creepy stalker of sixty for one of sixteen…
Apparently Johnny Depp was nervous about taking a singing role, but he does an admirable job. His singing voice is unpolished, a bit harsh, but full of emotion and always true to the character. He is, after all, an actor first and foremost. Depp leads the cast well, and his voice contrasts nicely with Jamie Campbell Bower’s pure, soaring tenor, and Alan Rickman’s menacing bass.

Helena Bonham Carter playing a messy-haired madwoman might sound very familiar to Harry Potter fans, but her Mrs Lovett is a much more subtle character than Bellatrix Lestrange, motherly and down-to-earth, darkly comic in her deadpan, practical manner after her initial shock at discovering that her lodger has just killed a man. “Seems an awful waste//I mean, with the price of meat what it is when you get it/if you get it…” “Ah!” “Good, you’ve got it…!”

Yes, Sweeney Todd is gory and gruesome, but what can you expect with the subject matter? Despite preparing myself I was quite horrified on my first viewing, but after the first murder, one seems to become somewhat desensitised to most of the blood, right until the final murders which become shocking again. But Sweeney Todd is more than an unashamed splatter-fest, and even the messy moments are quite emotional in their way. Musically, my favourite part is the reprise of “Johanna,” when Sweeney and the Pretty Boy are singing two separate melodies. This song charts Sweeney’s descent into madness, and if you listen to the lyrics – wow, they are heartrending! While he mechanically slashes his way through his clients, he seems to be aware that he is becoming disconnected and out of control, vaguely conscious of his loss of self and purpose and his inevitable fate.

“I think we shall not meet again/my little dove/my sweet/Johanna”

“And though I’ll think of you, I guess, until the day I die/I think I miss you less and less as every day goes by/Johanna!”

Curse you, Stephen Sondheim, we’re not supposed to feel sorry for a barber who murders his clients and turns them into pies!

I’m off to see the stage show in Chichester this week. No Death Eaters in this version, but another Harry Potter veteran whose character was actually even more unpleasant! This version will star Michael Ball as Sweeney Todd and Imelda Staunton playing Mrs Lovett. I can’t wait.



*Maskerade, Terry Pratchett

Movie Monday: Robin Hood on Big and Small Screen

There are some stories that don’t wear out, and the Robin Hood legend is possibly one of the most popular. Today I’m going to share my thoughts on just a few of the screen adaptations: good, bad and ugly.

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. (1991)

My goodness, this film is cheesy! Was it supposed to be, I wonder? There seems to be a strange balance between an epic score, a rather melodramatic script being acted by some actors who seem to take their roles very seriously, alongside BRIAN BLESSED (albeit in a tiny role) and Alan Rickman hamming it up as the deliciously evil Sheriff of Nottingham.

“LOCKSLEY! I’M GOING TO CUT YOUR HEART OUT WITH A SPOON!!!”

And let’s not even get started on the accents. (I’ll leave that job up to Mel Brooks and Cary Elwes, see below.) I’m not quite sure of its reception when it first came out, and I’m sure the first time I saw it, when I was a kid of about 11, I found it pretty grim viewing. I don’t even remember watching very far into it, put off by the horrors of the prisons where the story begins. If I’d seen a bit more of Rickman, perhaps I’d have changed my mind somewhat; he is an absolute joy to watch. The film as a whole is all good fun, using some of the best-known traditions of the legend, and helping to cement newer plot additions into the Robin Hood canon, but somehow it seems as though this film isn’t quite sure whether it wants to be adventurous and gritty, or tongue-in-cheek. Maybe it was always a little confused, maybe it hasn’t aged very gracefully, or perhaps I’ve been ruined forever by watching the hilarious Mel Brooks parody Robin Hood: Men in Tights, which just highlighted all that was ridiculous about Prince of Thieves.


Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

“Unlike some other Robin Hoods, I can speak with an English accent!”

If Prince of Thieves is a little confused about what genre it is, Men in Tights has no such troubles. A slapstickish comedy full of bad puns, deliberate anachronisms and the complete destruction of the Fourth Wall, somehow Men in Tights is closer to what I think of as the “real” Robin Hood story than the film it is most directly taking the mickey out of. Cary Elwes – “Westley” from the cult classic film The Princess Bride – smirks his way through scenes very reminiscent of Prince of Thieves, with Robin’s escape from prison in Jerusalem (swimming home to the tune of “Row, row, row your boat, kissing the sand, and promptly spitting it out again!) and his tragic homecoming.

Robin Hood: Blinkin, listen to me. They've taken the castle!
Blinkin: I thought it felt a bit drafty. Cor, this never would have happened if your father was alive.
Robin Hood: He's dead?
Blinkin: Yes.
Robin Hood: And my mother?
Blinkin: She died of pneumonia while... oh, you were away...
Robin Hood: My brothers?
Blinkin: There were all killed by the plague.
Robin Hood: My dog, Pongo?
Blinkin: Run over by a carriage.
Robin Hood: My goldfish, Goldie?
Blinkin: Eaten by the cat.
Robin Hood: My cat?
Blinkin: Choked on the goldfish.
Blinkin: Oh, it's good to be home, ain't it, Master Robin?

Then, of course there is the ghastly concoction brewed up by the hideous Latrine, while she tells Prince John all she knows about Robin of Locksley. (“You want certain, hire yourself a witch! I’m just your cook.”) This whole film ensures that I can no longer take Prince of Thieves seriously at all, though there are moments taken from other versions of the tale, such as the trap to catch Robin by luring him to an archery tournament, Prince John’s presence, and of course the green tights.


Robin Hood: BBC TV series (2006-2009)

After the first few episodes of what has become known as “Robin Hoodie” due to its costume choice, I wrote this review:

All right, there is no way that this series can be taken seriously, but it is enjoyable enough to allow me to suspend my disbelief. The cheese factor is bearable, though I could not believe the cheek of some of the lines: "I am your father;" "I shot the sheriff..." "No, you shot the deputy" to name just a couple. Minghella et al have plagiarised shamelessly, but in a tongue-in-cheek way. However, it is left to the supporting characters to give the programme the charisma it needs: what is with Robin Hood being reincarnated as an emo pacifist? Sam Troughton as Much is adorable and grows as a character through the series. Keith Allen hams it up as the Sheriff of Nottingham, and let's not forget Richard Armitage as the brooding villain with a bit of a heart. Marion is gorgeous and manages to avoid the stereotypes that are a danger for females in adventure stories: she is neither a doormat who spends her time working on her embroidery, nor a man's character in a dress, but a strong, feminine woman trapped in a seemingly impossible situation.
I look forward to series two, but I hope for some more bow action and less sulking from Robin next time around.

Perhaps it was Isle of Wight loyalty – the man behind this reinvention of the Robin Hood legend was the brother of the late Anthony Minghella. Looking back now, I feel I was too generous – especially after the plot developments of seasons two and three. There is something wrong when you’re secretly hoping that Guy of Gisbourne will polish off Robin Hood in any confrontation! And this is the version where the writers decided it was a good idea to kill off Maid Marian and introduce their own potential love interest character in her place. It wasn’t a good idea, and by all accounts Maid Marian’s replacement was what fanfiction writers dismiss as a “Mary Sue.” I say “by all accounts” because after series one I only dipped in and out of this series. Even in the first season, most of my enjoyment of this programme came from shouting abuse at the TV screen at either the corny scripts or the actions of our designated heroes, such as Robin failing to follow through on his threats, and generally wimping about.


Robin Hood – 2010 film

Despite, or perhaps because of, my love for the Robin Hood legend, I never went to see the latest film in the cinemas, from Ridley Scott and starring Russell Crowe. By all accounts it was a “darker, grittier” retelling of the legend, and the fact that these two were the pairing for Gladiator, which I disliked, made me suspicious. But was it darker? Well, yes, the light was poor in the opening scene, and there’s a fair bit of blood. But I was hasty to judge.

Over the past century, the Robin Hood tale has evolved, each filmmaker adding new elements to the legend, which the next assumes has always been there, and so the story has mutated. Of course, this has always been the case – the tale has been changing since the early ballads, the old folk plays, literature – Ivanhoe – then later film and television. Ridley Scott has taken the story back a bit, so that the basic plot points remain recognisable, but the details are different.

Lady Marion is older and more worldly than usual,  no longer “Maid,” but widow of Sir Robert Locksley – who is not Robin Hood. The man we know by that name is a humble archer who, for tax reasons, has taken on the identity of Locksley. This version takes place at the very end of King Richard Coeur de Lion’s life – he dies early on – and the wicked Prince John of legend is now the wicked King John by rights. This story is set against the backdrop of treachery and the threat of invasion from France, and turns into a war film, concluding with Robin Hood being declared outlaw – which is where most stories pick up.

But despite the differences, I thought that this film had a greater Robin Hood feel to it than some of the aforementioned, with a good historical setting – though I am quite sure many liberties have been taken with accuracy. And if Russell Crowe’s accent takes a bit of a wander around the British Isles and beyond, at least he tries, bless him. *ahemKevinCostnerahem*


Robin Hood (Disney) – 1973

I suspect that a lot of what I’ve referred to throughout this post as the “familiar” Robin Hood story comes from the Disney classic, which stars a strange mixture of anthropomorphic animals with a strange mixture of accents. Historically, geographically or realistically accurate, this is not – talking animals aside. But no matter. It’s a kids’ version, an introduction to the old tales whose only purpose is to tell a good story. And, after all, we are told right from the start that this is the animals’ version of the legends of old, not the British version, or even the human version. So I have no problem accepting a wolf who plays the kind of Sheriff you’d find in an old Western, rather than in medieval Naadinghayem – sorry, Nottingham, or a Friar Tuck who I didn’t even realise was supposed to be a badger, even though it says so in the credits. It doesn’t matter. It’s all good fun, though things take a sombre turn and I confess the song, “Not in Nottingham,” which is sung when our heroes are at their lowest point, still makes me feel a little choked up.

Other notable adaptations include:


The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938, Errol Flynn)
Robin of Sherwood (ITV, 1984-86)
Maid Marion and her Merry Men (BBC, 1989-1994, Tony Robinson)

Movie Monday: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2

Well, there was only going to be one choice of film for today's Movie Monday review, wasn't there? 


It's been eleven years since I first started reading the Harry Potter series. When Goblet of Fire was first published, I was the same age as Harry at that point in the series, 14 years old. Seems incredible now. With the hype around the books being unprecedented, and then the film adaptations, Harry Potter has played a huge part in the lives of so many people who came of age alongside the boy wizard. After rereading the books in preparation for the final part of the final film, I decided against my usual habits, and allowed myself to be swept up in the general excitement, going to see the midnight premiere among other like-minded nutters, including one dressed as Bellatrix Lestrange, many in wizard's robes and school uniform, and one with a T-shirt bearing the sign of the Deathly Hallows. There was a great buzz of excitement and anticipation, and I hadn't felt as excited about a film since Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King was released in 2003. 


WARNING: THIS REVIEW IS FULL OF SPOILERS. IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU WATCH THE FILM BEFORE READING ON.

I think by now that most Harry Potter fans will have read all of the books, but to a casual viewer I would recommend that they remind themselves of the story so far, because Deathly Hallows part 2 does not give much chance to play catch-up, repeating just the final moments of the last half before plunging us back into the story where we left off. Not many franchises could get away with that trick, but Harry Potter makes its own rules. Part 2 doesn't feel like a whole film, but is the second half of a very long one. The break-in at Gringotts Bank would ordinarily be a big, climactic scene but launching into the scene in minutes without any preamble or build-up it felt a bit rushed. Helena Bonham Carter (with Emma Watson's voice) does a great Hermione-disguised-as-Bellatrix, and her attempts at walking in Bellatrix's boots reminded me of myself wobbling on high heels.

We haven't seen Gringotts since the first film, and with its rows of smart, suited goblin clerks, I found myself reminded of Mary Poppins. Warwick Davies, who has always been present in the background as Professor Flitwick, got a moment in the spotlight - albeit under heavy prosthetics - as the goblin Griphook. Griphook was civil, polite and quietly-spoken, which coupled with the black eyes and pointy teeth was more unsettling than any cackling Labyrinth goblins one might be more likely to expect. The ride down to the vaults was a great piece of filming that was obviously designed to make the most of the 3D effects, a bumpy rollercoaster ride that hearkened back to the descriptions of Harry's first trip with Hagrid in Philosopher's Stone. The special effects continued with the replicating gold, and of course the breakout on the dragon which smashed up Gringotts and half of Diagon Alley with it. I did wonder, for a moment, how Harry located the next horcrux so easily under the circumstances, especially as he had never seen it before in the film version.

And then, all of a sudden, Harry, Ron and Hermione were headed back to Hogwarts. Already? I thought. After all the time spent on finding and destroying the locket horcrux, it seemed very sudden, and even in the book it crashes on me quicker than I expect. And we are at the three-quarter mark, with all the best bits still to come.

Back at Hogwarts, it was wonderful to see nearly everyone back from the previous films, even just in the background: Dean and Seamus, Cho, Lav-Lav (I beg her pardon, Lavender Brown) and possible Percy Weasley. But there's no time to get soppy, as the school prepares for battle, two horcruxes still left unfound. The cost of protecting one teenage boy was astounding. Of course, the good guys are fighting for more than just Harry Potter, but the fact that all Voldemort sees as standing between him and absolute power is this one young man, and the lengths he's willing to go to in order to eliminate that one threat - wow! As the battle commences, and Hogwarts turns to chaos, Professor McGonagall takes control and is awesome, raising a few laughs ("Boom!") Someone's gotta do it. It looks like certain death for all, as our heroes muster all the courage they can to face Voldemort and his masses of Death Eaters. Remus Lupin and his wife Tonks (What do we call her now? Tonks-Lupin? Nymphadora?) reach for each other's hands, and the formerly uncrushable comic relief, Fred and George Weasley, can only manage wobbly, watery smiles. Ouch.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione have destroyed the next horcrux - and finally kissed! (And everybody says "Awww," "Hooray!" or "At last!") Harry has located another with astonishing ease, with the help of Luna Lovegood and the beautiful ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, before Malfoy and his cronies corner him in the Room of Requirement. I had a bit of a giggle as I saw some of the props stuffed in the Room of Requirement - including a cage of blue pixies from Chamber of Secrets. But the giggles didn't last long. Goyle's (Crabbe in the book) Fiendfyre spell goes wrong, and that's another horcrux down. One more to go - then Voldemort himself! It could be such a victory, but the enormity of everything they've been through hits our central trio and they break down for a moment in a powerful, very believable scene.

There was one part of the story that fans would never have forgiven the filmmakers if they had not done it justice: the chapter called "The Prince's Tale." Thankfully, there is nothing to forgive. The scene is perfect. Alan Rickman, always outstanding as Snape, excels himself in this film and though he is only in a few scenes, is the real star of this movie. His performance as Headmaster of Hogwarts is deliciously sinister, terrifying even when one knows his true allegiances. Even I felt myself wondering briefly whether or not he could be trusted, and I knew the whole story. His death was inevitable; such a great character was never going to survive the series, I think I've always known that. The snake attack was shocking and violent, viewed from behind a blood-smeared window, and then so very, very sad! At least in the film, I got the feeling that Snape was at peace in the end, not struggling against death but facing it with courage - which is one of the main themes of the story. Then, at last, we learn Snape's story, in a heartbreaking montage of scenes from his life, the final thoughts of a dying man twisting and merging together. Key moments from his childhood spliced together with Dumbledore's revelation of his ultimate plan, clips from all the previous films and an additional, devastating scene of Snape being first on the scene of James and Lily's murder. I always found Rickman's Snape to be a much more restrained character than Book-Snape, always cold and calm and contemptuous, unreadable. At the time of Half-Blood Prince, I was disappointed by the lack of the "DON'T - CALL - ME - COWARD!" line, but that complete control throughout the series makes it all the more powerful when now, at last, he bares his soul. Rickman's portrayal of Snape's grief and undying love is perfect, beautiful, heartbreaking. Oh, Severus! 


I have to confess that when the first couple of Harry Potter films came out, I wasn't overly impressed by Daniel Radcliffe's acting, finding him awkward and wooden at times. Well, he was eleven. Not any more. He has improved steadily throughout this series, and his performance as Harry courageously walks through the forest towards his fate is flawless. He conveys just the right mix of shock, courage and determination, fear and acceptance, and the scene is perfect.

I've been using that word a lot, haven't I? I won't say the entire film was perfect, though it was a very satisfying conclusion to the series that has been enchanting children and adults alike for over ten years, and very true to the source material. If I have a complaint, it's that I felt that the filmmakers sometimes skimped on the story to devote more time to epic battle scenes. I would have preferred more of Dumbledore's backstory, and there were a couple of times where plot holes were patched over, where minor plot points were omitted from previous adaptations which would later be needed - Sirius's mirror, and Harry mentioning Lupin's son that non-readers wouldn't have known he had. As I've always said, these films are great companions to the books, but don't always flow seamlessly on their own.

Dumbledore told Harry at "King's Cross" that words are the most powerful kind of magic, which seemed to be a comment on the story itself. J. K. Rowling has certainly proved the power of words with her storytelling.

Back in Hogwarts in the battle, two characters got their moments of glory, and they were well worth the wait. I'm referring, of course, to Molly Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Dear old Neville, who started off as a squishy, inept junior wizard in Philosopher's Stone, has grown over the last few films and turned into a brave, confident hero. I've always had a soft spot for Neville, so it's wonderful to see how his character turns out. I salute you, Longbottom! He also got a lovely warming moment, not from the books but that I'm sure many people wished would happen, the pairing up of our favourite outcasts. I know I approved.

I loved the epilogue, giggling at the appearance of Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and Draco Malfoy in their mid-thirties. Albus Severus is a very good-looking kiddy who I'm sure will grow up to break many hearts, and the family relationship was lovely. Some of the other children on the train bore a remarkable similarity to Harry and co.'s classmates - I wonder whether that was deliberate.  I broke into a grin watching the Hogwarts Express chugging a new generation off to Hogwarts, a safe Hogwarts which brings us full circle, back to the magical innocence from the beginning of Philosopher's Stone. 


I left the cinema with a warm feeling of contentment and happiness. Although Deathly Hallows Part 2 won't overwrite the movie in my head, I'm very happy for the two to coexist. Congratulations to all of the cast and crew for bringing these beloved books to life. You should be very proud of yourselves.

Movie Monday: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 1

Contains spoilers

With the final installment of the Harry Potter film series released this Friday, it is only right that this week's Movie Monday brings us up-to-date with the story so far. I'm not going to recap the story here, as I've written fairly lengthy book reviews already. The film itself makes no allowances for newcomers - it's probably a safe assumption that most viewers know what's going to happen anyway, and that those who don't, have at least watched the films to date. After a brief speech from the Minister for Magic, we are plunged without any further ado into the seventeen-year-old heroes' lives as they prepare to leave their homes and venture out into a terrifying world unprotected. This is the only film to reduce me to a blubbering wreck in the first two minutes, before the title card.

As I said, this film is not very newbie-friendly, reuniting Harry and the audience with a flurry of old faces, some not seen for three or more films (Fleur, Dobby) and other characters are introduced briefly, with little to-do, and you are left to work out for yourself quite where they all fit into the equation (Bill Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher and others.) Still, I was very pleased to be introduced to the eldest Weasley boy, a tertiary character for whom I have quite a fondness, but who could conceivably have been rewritten. When I first heard that Deathly Hallows was to be split into two films, I wondered whether it was strictly necessary, but now I am very grateful for the fact. This is probably the most faithful adaptation since Chamber of Secrets, but is a far superior film, in part because the actors have come a long way, in part because there was enough imagination in the translation process from one medium to another. When reading the book, there were a couple of subplots I hadn't remembered being included in the film, but there was enough to suggest that these have not been forgotten, just probably shuffled into part 2. Just a few more days and I will know.

The previous film, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince opened with a shot of the Millennium Bridge being destroyed, showing how even the muggle world was affected by the wizards' wars. Deathly Hallows Part 1 shows the continued effect, which I found the more chilling because it was more casual: a headline announcing the murder of a muggle family, the battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters - and Voldemort - taking place over a busy motorway and bringing down power lines,  the burnt-out caravans in the scenery without any mention of what happened.

After about half a film full of fantasy action: a discovery, the infiltration of the Ministry of Magic - but alas, no one answered my plea to assassinate Umbridge after her first giggle -  and a One Ring-like Horcrux spreading  discord between the central trio, more terror comes after a moving scene at Harry's parents' grave, when Harry and Hermione - Ron having temporarily scarpered in a huff - meet what they think is magical historian Bathilda Bagshot. Background music and the preknowledge of what is to come, but not how, build up a creepy suspense, and the gruesome horror is more implied than shown, with the buzzing in the background and a few blood spatters. There is a strange moment when, after the scenes in a gloomy old house, the wall is smashed open to reveal a bright, airy nursery for a moment or two, before returning to darkness. This uncanny, unexpected shot just heighten the chaos and panic of the scene.

 In Chamber of Secrets, when Harry discovers that he can speak the language of the snakes - without realising it! - the filmmakers were left with a dilemma: do they show the scenes as Harry sees them - implying he speaks English and then revealing that wasn't the case at all - or as they really are - alerting the audience to his uncommon skills before Harry himself finds out. They went with the latter option, and I remember thinking "that ruined it!" Somehow, this time - at least on this viewing - I thought they did a better job. It seemed that "Bathilda" was saying something I couldn't quite make out, but somehow it seemed like it wasn't clear why, whether my ears or brain weren't working properly for a moment. But maybe that was just me and just this time.

The Harry Potter actors and filmmakers have come a long way since the twinkly, magical children's film that was Philosopher's Stone, and particular credit goes to the central trio, who must have spent half their lives so far playing these roles. Emma Watson as Hermione deserves a particular mention in this film; it was thanks to her performance that I was reaching for the tissues in the first two minutes.

Oh, and of course Dobby, not seen since Chamber of Secrets, and generally disliked then, Dobby put a smile on my face when he reappeared in all his joy to see Harry Potter, his pride at being A Free Elf and general cheerful, matter-of-fact demeanor in a film so full of darkness and fear. Of course, this makes his final scenes all the more heartrending. I never would have thought nine years ago that I would shed a tear for that irritating house-elf!

I've now bought my ticket for the midnight showing - ten past midnight, if that makes any difference! - of part 2 on Thursday night/ Friday morning, and am itching to see the final part. Reading all of the books in a row recently has left me more caught up in the Pottermania than I otherwise would be, and I am particularly looking forward to seeing Neville and Mrs Weasley's greatest moments, Alan Rickman as Snape - a character sadly missing from most of the previous film - and his backstory, and of course the final showdown(s) between Harry and Voldemort. But I am in no doubt about the fact that tissues will be needed.

Movie Monday: Never Let Me Go

I read the novel Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro just before the film was released and all the publicity was coming out. As it happened, I was non-stop busy when the film hit the cinemas, and had to leave it a couple of weeks. That's OK, I thought, I can see it later - except it had left the cinema within about two weeks! After all the publicity, and the casting of Keira Knightley and Carey Mulligan, I had expected it to be much more popular. But now the film's on DVD I've been able to rent it from Blockbuster to see how it translates to the screen.

Kathy (Mulligan), Ruth (Knightley) and Tommy (Andrew Garfield) grew up at Hailsham school, a seemingly ordinary English boarding school, but one that when examined closely, seems a little odd. The children of Hailsham are being raised for a very specific purpose, which is revealed to them gradually, before they are too old to quite understand, until they are grown up knowing everything which is too deeply ingrained in them for them to expect any other life.

It's not very easy to compare the reading experience of Never Let Me Go with watching the film. There can only be one first time, and to watch the film knowing what is to come makes seemingly insignificant little scenes become heartbreaking. To me, it seemed that the Big Reveal was made more obvious in the film, but perhaps that was because I already knew it. It also seemed to come a lot earlier. The book seemed to dwell on the Hailsham years for a lot longer, but it might be that I was just reading it slowly.

The film certainly emphasised the not-quite-rightness of Hailsham in a more definite way than the book. When I read things that seemed a little out of place, I couldn't be sure if it was my interpretation of Ishiguro's choice of language that made things seem skewed, or if they really were. The book is narrated by Kathy H, which gives the reader a personal view of the story from within. Although Kathy narrates part of the film too, the visual medium distanced me and made me see the friends' situation as an outsider. The new  Hailsham Guardian, Miss Lucy (Sally Hawkins), is a more relatable character, as she comes to Hailsham as an adult and is plunged into a situation that doesn't seem natural to her, whereas the children know no other life.

The Hailsham students, even as grown-ups, are visibly different from people of the outside world. Even after leaving school, they are isolated, living in shared accommodation with other people "like them." Their attempts to act like "outsiders" are amusing but pitiful - copying cheesy American sitcom characters because they know no other way to relate, and sitting stiffly in a cafe, too afraid and overwhelmed even to know how to order lunch. These are clearly outsiders, conditioned for plot reasons to be different from non-Hailsham people, and yet it's nurture, not nature, that makes them so.

The tone of the book is subdued, pensive and moody, and the film turns this right up with the help of the sad, eerie soundtrack, the characters' drab costumes and unexcitable acting. The literary cushion is stripped away and the film really drove home the passivity of the characters. Most books set in this sort of world show the fighters, those who rebel against their lot. But not everyone is a revolutionary, and Never Let Me Go's central trio are those ordinary people who have no thoughts that life could be any different. It's a bleak world, and what is thoughtfully melancholy in the book is shown up as plain depressing here.

I'm glad I got to see this film - finally! - but I think it works better as a companion to the book than viewed on its own. Alone, it is too harsh and leaves rather an unpleasant aftertaste. Kathy ends by pondering about how everybody dies (or "completes") wondering if life could have given them more, thinking they've missed something and been left unfinished, and that was the feeling I got from the film. I don't think anything too important was omitted, but the movie wasn't quite satisfying. I felt there ought to be more - but what?