Five things Atoli liked about HP6 (and one she didn't)
In an effort to be a bit less nitpicky and negative about the latest Harry Potter movie, here's me, going on record to list the movie's high points and successes (in true fanfic burning spirit). It wasn't all craziness and loose canon, and for the things it got so very right, I salute this movie.
Five things Atoli liked about Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince:
1. The depiction of Draco Malfoy. Previous films have not made Draco a serious threat, and when you think about it, he never was a serious threat till book five, anyway, when he joined the Inquisitorial Squad and aided Umbridge. In book six, he becomes a serious contender and more than a fly in Harry's ear after all this time of suspicion. In movie six, he develops from the sneering bratling who snipped, "Scared, Potter?" way back in Chamber of Secrets, and becomes a real threat not only to Dumbledore, but to Hogwarts as a whole. Let's not forget who lets the Death Eaters into the castle and instigates the first Battle of Hogwarts (one of the important events that does not appear in the movie). Let's not forget that Draco has enough malice in him in that bathroom to prepare to throw the Cruciatus Curse at Harry - and we know from Bellatrix that you have to mean it when you go tossing Crucio at someone. It's one thing to cast it on a spider in front of a bunch of fourteen-year-olds and another entirely to attempt to cast it on another boy who has up till that point avoided using serious magic. Yes, Draco and his tractability are dangerous. And we see it. And the movie makes sure we know it. There's a scene in which a white bird reappears in the Vanishing Cabinet, dead, and we know immediately that some White Hats are going to die as a direct result of Draco's actions. He's not a passive villain, approving of everything Voldemort does. He has the Mark, and he's mortally afraid to use it - but he will, if he must. Tom Felton played his role brilliantly, and some of his expressions throughout the movie were heart-wrenching to see because I could read everything I needed to about this boy's life.
2. Professor Horace Slughorn. He may lack his walrus moustache, but he lacks none of the bald-faced, unapologetic ambition that clearly marked Slughorn as the perfect Slytherin in the book, and marks him as such once again in the movie, though it never comes up that he was a Slytherin. You just have to assume. The way Jim Broadbent plays his character, you can see all of Slughorn's flaws as well as his good intentions - selfish intentions, but he never meant to hurt anybody on his climb to the top of the tower of popularity - and his cleverness is as evident as his cowardice. In the end, it's his love and admiration for his brightest students that brings him over and convinces him to give Harry his true memory. In the movie, there's a bit of dialogue added, a description of a clever and pretty bit of magic that Lily Potter did for Slughorn, and it was really touching. Slughorn tells Harry about a bowl with a flower petal in it, and how when the flower petal sank, it became a small goldfish; when Lily died, the fish vanished, and Slughorn describes life as "you go along, and then poof!" as he tries to comfort Hagrid. It's not something that happened in the book. But it illustrates the better side of the character, who can be hard to like at times (but then, how much of that is the Harry filter?); he gets some humanity. When Harry says that his mother's sacrifice will mean nothing if Slughorn doesn't give him the memory that can help defeat Voldemort, Slughorn shows that he has a heart. And the tortured, miserable expression on Jim Broadbent's face as he plays it is excellent.
3. The events of the sea cave. Though I joked to Zelly that I swore I'd seen this before in Lord of the Rings, that scene had some scary moments. Even knowing what was coming, and steeling myself, I jumped when the Inferus grasped Harry's wrist. The moment Dumbledore pleaded, "Harry, water," I knew what was about to happen, and I still felt chills and thrills rushing through me. As Harry fought off the growing army of corpses with a growing sense of desperation, I was worried for him, and though I knew the filmmakers would never decide to maim Harry right then and there, the scene still gives the impression that it's entirely possible, and you can see that Harry's life is in danger, as is Dumbledore's. Michael Gambon stands out here because of his great ability to flit between the many roles and faces of Albus Dumbledore; as Dumbledore recovers from the paralyzing effects of the Horcrux-concealing potion, he rises and in what can only be described as a blaze of glory, he surrounds the island in the cave with swirls of fire. It almost made me cheer to see it. That's when we know that help will always be given to those who need it, and that Dumbledore finds ways to reward those who are loyal to him - in ways Voldemort could never comprehend. Though the fire could be scary, there's something positive about it as it cleanses the scene. It looks fantastic and real, and Dumbledore is a triumph in this scene. It's a joy to watch the cave scenes because there's light at the end of the tunnel. We don't want Dumbledore to go to the light, but somehow, after such a display of bravery - and the compassion he shows to Draco on the astronomy tower not long later - I could stomach Dumbledore dying, because he did not go gentle into that good night. The cave proves it.
4. The underlying tone of the movie. Note that I didn't say the overall tone; there's a difference here. The underlying tone is one of lurking danger - a snake poised to strike, if you will - that becomes real and mortal. It's also one of finding happiness in the pit of despair. Harry realizes that though he ate the pomegranate seed and he's trapped in the underworld, it's not forever. The last line in the movie is, "I never realized how beautiful this place is." Harry says that as he, Ron, and Hermione look out over the countryside surrounding Hogwarts, admiring the peaceful beauty they may not have so much as a flicker of over the coming year. When Harry realizes that his task is real, and that if he does not find a way, no one will, the movie changes its tone once again to that of three friends, seeing something they may never see again. I think it's childish innocence that falls off the tower right along with Dumbledore, and at that moment, ridiculous love triangles were banished and Harry, Ron, and Hermione are thinking about what they must do to ensure that they have a future and the ability, in that future, to worry over trivial things like who's snogging who. The Pensieve scenes, and scenes in Dumbledore's office, drive the point home that this isn't a labyrinth in the bowels of the castle, trying to save the philosopher's/sorcerer's stone; this is another sort of race against time, and it's deathly real. We're talking about the fate of the world here, and every memory, every fact, must be carefully considered. That's where the visually beautiful Pensieve bits come into play, and in its depiction of the Harry-Dumbledore relationship and partnership, the movie really succeeds in bringing that underlying tone to the forefront.
5. Hogwarts, visually. Every shot that panned down on the castle, depicting the change in seasons, was glorious to me. Partly because I know that the next time we see it, Hogwarts will have changed for the worse, and that Harry and his friends won't be returning for seventh year. I've never taken the external shots for granted, and always appreciated the sweep of the camera down over a courtyard, or the glimpse of gray sky as a character trudges through fluffy snow, but this has an entirely different appeal. I mentioned it last time, in my full review of the movie: a pan that circles around a tower, showing the light beaming from the windows with a sort of warm welcome, and winds to the balcony on the other side, where Draco looks pale and tragic. It's a study in contrasts. Just like Harry being dragged from the dark waters of the lake by a roaring ring of fire is a study in contrasts, and one that looks beautiful onscreen. The Room of Requirement, filled with clutter, was a maze of oddities that merits a good pause so you can look over everything and see if that diadem is visible in the mess. The destroyed skeleton of Ollivander's, right down the street from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at its peak, is another great shot. On one hand, you have the candy-colored carnival of pranks and toys and silliness, and it's nice to have all those things in wartime, but you must also consider grave reality, and that's what the Trio does when they step into Ollivander's and see the destruction. It's hard to see the beautiful wizarding world torn apart, but we have to see it, or we'd never understand what Harry and his friends and allies are trying to protect. The movie makes everything look so good, or so bad, that it's all real and every point hits home harder than the last. The saddest, yet simplest, scene in the movie is Harry's fingers brushing over Dumbledore's face. It should be nothing, but it's everything and I started bawling all over again when I saw the anguish in that one shot. That's what a movie should do, and should strive to be.
And one she didn't:
1. You thought I was going to mention the snogging, and you're right in the sense that I'm bringing it up, but it's not my one thing. The thing I disliked most about the Half-Blood Prince movie was the lack of some critical scenes from the book. They weren't even truncated and shoved into the movie; they didn't appear, period. A handful of such scenes are those in the Gaunt hovel, which could be considered Voldemort's beginnings, if you count his beginnings as his mother's desperate, pathetic circumstances and the Gaunts' pride in their heritage. I think the orphanage scene and the conversation in Slughorn's office were tremendously important to the book and the movie. But so are scenes of Merope and Morfin, and the story behind the Gaunt ring. All we see is Voldemort fingering the ring like Gollum fingering his precious, and a flash of memory and pain as Harry touches the ring in Dumbledore's office. I thought that for such an important object that symbolizes Voldemort's obsession with bloodlines as well as with his own intelligence, the ring didn't get enough explanation. It just was. I thought that for an object that mangled Dumbledore's hand and [DH spoiler] fatally cursed him [/DH spoiler], the ring deserved the further explanation that the movie neglected. Then there's the mention of Voldemort's preoccupation with collecting trophies. The ring is part of that, but we don't hear about Hufflepuff's cup or anything of Ravenclaw's, much less the diadem, or about Gryffindor's sword, or anything about the Founders at all. And those who read the books know that Voldemort's fascination with Hogwarts was a fatal attraction, but mere moviegoers don't, and that information is critical. A man who's willing to rend asunder everything that symbolized power and freedom for him when he was younger is a terrible foe. That man is Voldemort. So I wanted some more Horcruxes, more speculation, more conversation, more worry and strife and upset. Ultimately, I wanted more explanation, period, because as Mandy mentioned in a comment to me, she didn't even see why Snape was the Half-Blood Prince. He simply was. Like the ring, like the unexplained and ignored cup and diadem and Nagini, and even Harry. They just are. No more mention of the prophecy (and we learn something quite important about Snape's relation to that in book six, something that the movie dodged entirely).
In the cold light of the day, I realize that in a movie, it's difficult to sum everything up, tie up all loose ends, and make everyone happy. However, given that die-hard fans are the ones likely to put the most money in the filmmaker's pockets by returning to see the movie again and again, you'd think they would rethink the errors made in other Harry Potter movies, like Order of the Phoenix, and try to adhere more strictly to canon. No matter what may look prettier or sound prettier, at the end of the day, canon is the books. More even than J.K.'s statements, this fan always sings: the books are our king. Some things, I'd have loved to see show up in the movie, but realistically, I knew they wouldn't. Those are things like Harry trying to run Quidditch practices, Defense Against the Dark Arts classes taught by Snape, and a thorough exploration of Riddle's beginnings. I had hoped that at least a cursory glance at the Gaunts and at Voldemort's obsessive ties to the Hogwarts Founders would make an appearance.
I don't regret, though, the way characters were portrayed. More than anything - even the beauty of the movie - I applaud that. As I've mentioned before, I think Dumbledore stole the show in more ways than one, and Hermione came more into her own in this film, establishing herself once again as magically competent but emotionally stunted in an often endearing, but sometimes frustrating, way. And Harry, our hero...what can be said about Harry except that even with Capslock of Doom and chest monsters run rampant, I love that kid, till death do us part. But to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. Or so I've been told. So maybe Harry and my obsession with him, as strong but not as terrifying as Voldemort's obsession with the Four Founders, will never die. Just like my admiration for his bravery and strength, and his ability to face up to his demons, has never faltered. There were times I wanted to wring Harry's neck in the movie, but most of the time, I wanted to pull him close and protect him from what was about to happen. The movie made me sympathize with Harry on its own merit, rather than a holdover from the books. It made me root for Slughorn, for God's sake, and wish well for Draco Malfoy of all people. You know those are strong performances when Draco Malfoy isn't a sniveling daddy's boy, but a sympathetic character whose plight is sad, if not tragic.
And once again, I have to say that revisiting these books can make me into an emotional wreck. I mean, the last two books, and particularly HBP, are hard for me to stomach. All books really affect me, as does fanfiction and writing in general, and Harry Potter is a particularly strong example of how attached I get to characters and their world. I told Dad this morning that I'm sure many fans went through what I did with book six, and that is what I call the "character death book throw." I threw Order of the Phoenix when we lost Sirius. I threw Half-Blood Prince when we lost Dumbledore. And I threw Deathly Hallows several times, though I only threw it to the other end of the couch and not on the floor or across the room as I did the other two books. The pages of my copies of HBP and DH are rumpled and misshapen from tears, and I'll always find my heart wrenched and stomped when Dumbledore dies, be it in the book or in the movie. There's just something about that pain of loss that never goes away, even for a fictional character. I hold the books and characters in such high regard that I don't ever want it to go away, either.
"People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading."
Five things Atoli liked about Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince:
1. The depiction of Draco Malfoy. Previous films have not made Draco a serious threat, and when you think about it, he never was a serious threat till book five, anyway, when he joined the Inquisitorial Squad and aided Umbridge. In book six, he becomes a serious contender and more than a fly in Harry's ear after all this time of suspicion. In movie six, he develops from the sneering bratling who snipped, "Scared, Potter?" way back in Chamber of Secrets, and becomes a real threat not only to Dumbledore, but to Hogwarts as a whole. Let's not forget who lets the Death Eaters into the castle and instigates the first Battle of Hogwarts (one of the important events that does not appear in the movie). Let's not forget that Draco has enough malice in him in that bathroom to prepare to throw the Cruciatus Curse at Harry - and we know from Bellatrix that you have to mean it when you go tossing Crucio at someone. It's one thing to cast it on a spider in front of a bunch of fourteen-year-olds and another entirely to attempt to cast it on another boy who has up till that point avoided using serious magic. Yes, Draco and his tractability are dangerous. And we see it. And the movie makes sure we know it. There's a scene in which a white bird reappears in the Vanishing Cabinet, dead, and we know immediately that some White Hats are going to die as a direct result of Draco's actions. He's not a passive villain, approving of everything Voldemort does. He has the Mark, and he's mortally afraid to use it - but he will, if he must. Tom Felton played his role brilliantly, and some of his expressions throughout the movie were heart-wrenching to see because I could read everything I needed to about this boy's life.
2. Professor Horace Slughorn. He may lack his walrus moustache, but he lacks none of the bald-faced, unapologetic ambition that clearly marked Slughorn as the perfect Slytherin in the book, and marks him as such once again in the movie, though it never comes up that he was a Slytherin. You just have to assume. The way Jim Broadbent plays his character, you can see all of Slughorn's flaws as well as his good intentions - selfish intentions, but he never meant to hurt anybody on his climb to the top of the tower of popularity - and his cleverness is as evident as his cowardice. In the end, it's his love and admiration for his brightest students that brings him over and convinces him to give Harry his true memory. In the movie, there's a bit of dialogue added, a description of a clever and pretty bit of magic that Lily Potter did for Slughorn, and it was really touching. Slughorn tells Harry about a bowl with a flower petal in it, and how when the flower petal sank, it became a small goldfish; when Lily died, the fish vanished, and Slughorn describes life as "you go along, and then poof!" as he tries to comfort Hagrid. It's not something that happened in the book. But it illustrates the better side of the character, who can be hard to like at times (but then, how much of that is the Harry filter?); he gets some humanity. When Harry says that his mother's sacrifice will mean nothing if Slughorn doesn't give him the memory that can help defeat Voldemort, Slughorn shows that he has a heart. And the tortured, miserable expression on Jim Broadbent's face as he plays it is excellent.
3. The events of the sea cave. Though I joked to Zelly that I swore I'd seen this before in Lord of the Rings, that scene had some scary moments. Even knowing what was coming, and steeling myself, I jumped when the Inferus grasped Harry's wrist. The moment Dumbledore pleaded, "Harry, water," I knew what was about to happen, and I still felt chills and thrills rushing through me. As Harry fought off the growing army of corpses with a growing sense of desperation, I was worried for him, and though I knew the filmmakers would never decide to maim Harry right then and there, the scene still gives the impression that it's entirely possible, and you can see that Harry's life is in danger, as is Dumbledore's. Michael Gambon stands out here because of his great ability to flit between the many roles and faces of Albus Dumbledore; as Dumbledore recovers from the paralyzing effects of the Horcrux-concealing potion, he rises and in what can only be described as a blaze of glory, he surrounds the island in the cave with swirls of fire. It almost made me cheer to see it. That's when we know that help will always be given to those who need it, and that Dumbledore finds ways to reward those who are loyal to him - in ways Voldemort could never comprehend. Though the fire could be scary, there's something positive about it as it cleanses the scene. It looks fantastic and real, and Dumbledore is a triumph in this scene. It's a joy to watch the cave scenes because there's light at the end of the tunnel. We don't want Dumbledore to go to the light, but somehow, after such a display of bravery - and the compassion he shows to Draco on the astronomy tower not long later - I could stomach Dumbledore dying, because he did not go gentle into that good night. The cave proves it.
4. The underlying tone of the movie. Note that I didn't say the overall tone; there's a difference here. The underlying tone is one of lurking danger - a snake poised to strike, if you will - that becomes real and mortal. It's also one of finding happiness in the pit of despair. Harry realizes that though he ate the pomegranate seed and he's trapped in the underworld, it's not forever. The last line in the movie is, "I never realized how beautiful this place is." Harry says that as he, Ron, and Hermione look out over the countryside surrounding Hogwarts, admiring the peaceful beauty they may not have so much as a flicker of over the coming year. When Harry realizes that his task is real, and that if he does not find a way, no one will, the movie changes its tone once again to that of three friends, seeing something they may never see again. I think it's childish innocence that falls off the tower right along with Dumbledore, and at that moment, ridiculous love triangles were banished and Harry, Ron, and Hermione are thinking about what they must do to ensure that they have a future and the ability, in that future, to worry over trivial things like who's snogging who. The Pensieve scenes, and scenes in Dumbledore's office, drive the point home that this isn't a labyrinth in the bowels of the castle, trying to save the philosopher's/sorcerer's stone; this is another sort of race against time, and it's deathly real. We're talking about the fate of the world here, and every memory, every fact, must be carefully considered. That's where the visually beautiful Pensieve bits come into play, and in its depiction of the Harry-Dumbledore relationship and partnership, the movie really succeeds in bringing that underlying tone to the forefront.
5. Hogwarts, visually. Every shot that panned down on the castle, depicting the change in seasons, was glorious to me. Partly because I know that the next time we see it, Hogwarts will have changed for the worse, and that Harry and his friends won't be returning for seventh year. I've never taken the external shots for granted, and always appreciated the sweep of the camera down over a courtyard, or the glimpse of gray sky as a character trudges through fluffy snow, but this has an entirely different appeal. I mentioned it last time, in my full review of the movie: a pan that circles around a tower, showing the light beaming from the windows with a sort of warm welcome, and winds to the balcony on the other side, where Draco looks pale and tragic. It's a study in contrasts. Just like Harry being dragged from the dark waters of the lake by a roaring ring of fire is a study in contrasts, and one that looks beautiful onscreen. The Room of Requirement, filled with clutter, was a maze of oddities that merits a good pause so you can look over everything and see if that diadem is visible in the mess. The destroyed skeleton of Ollivander's, right down the street from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at its peak, is another great shot. On one hand, you have the candy-colored carnival of pranks and toys and silliness, and it's nice to have all those things in wartime, but you must also consider grave reality, and that's what the Trio does when they step into Ollivander's and see the destruction. It's hard to see the beautiful wizarding world torn apart, but we have to see it, or we'd never understand what Harry and his friends and allies are trying to protect. The movie makes everything look so good, or so bad, that it's all real and every point hits home harder than the last. The saddest, yet simplest, scene in the movie is Harry's fingers brushing over Dumbledore's face. It should be nothing, but it's everything and I started bawling all over again when I saw the anguish in that one shot. That's what a movie should do, and should strive to be.
And one she didn't:
1. You thought I was going to mention the snogging, and you're right in the sense that I'm bringing it up, but it's not my one thing. The thing I disliked most about the Half-Blood Prince movie was the lack of some critical scenes from the book. They weren't even truncated and shoved into the movie; they didn't appear, period. A handful of such scenes are those in the Gaunt hovel, which could be considered Voldemort's beginnings, if you count his beginnings as his mother's desperate, pathetic circumstances and the Gaunts' pride in their heritage. I think the orphanage scene and the conversation in Slughorn's office were tremendously important to the book and the movie. But so are scenes of Merope and Morfin, and the story behind the Gaunt ring. All we see is Voldemort fingering the ring like Gollum fingering his precious, and a flash of memory and pain as Harry touches the ring in Dumbledore's office. I thought that for such an important object that symbolizes Voldemort's obsession with bloodlines as well as with his own intelligence, the ring didn't get enough explanation. It just was. I thought that for an object that mangled Dumbledore's hand and [DH spoiler] fatally cursed him [/DH spoiler], the ring deserved the further explanation that the movie neglected. Then there's the mention of Voldemort's preoccupation with collecting trophies. The ring is part of that, but we don't hear about Hufflepuff's cup or anything of Ravenclaw's, much less the diadem, or about Gryffindor's sword, or anything about the Founders at all. And those who read the books know that Voldemort's fascination with Hogwarts was a fatal attraction, but mere moviegoers don't, and that information is critical. A man who's willing to rend asunder everything that symbolized power and freedom for him when he was younger is a terrible foe. That man is Voldemort. So I wanted some more Horcruxes, more speculation, more conversation, more worry and strife and upset. Ultimately, I wanted more explanation, period, because as Mandy mentioned in a comment to me, she didn't even see why Snape was the Half-Blood Prince. He simply was. Like the ring, like the unexplained and ignored cup and diadem and Nagini, and even Harry. They just are. No more mention of the prophecy (and we learn something quite important about Snape's relation to that in book six, something that the movie dodged entirely).
In the cold light of the day, I realize that in a movie, it's difficult to sum everything up, tie up all loose ends, and make everyone happy. However, given that die-hard fans are the ones likely to put the most money in the filmmaker's pockets by returning to see the movie again and again, you'd think they would rethink the errors made in other Harry Potter movies, like Order of the Phoenix, and try to adhere more strictly to canon. No matter what may look prettier or sound prettier, at the end of the day, canon is the books. More even than J.K.'s statements, this fan always sings: the books are our king. Some things, I'd have loved to see show up in the movie, but realistically, I knew they wouldn't. Those are things like Harry trying to run Quidditch practices, Defense Against the Dark Arts classes taught by Snape, and a thorough exploration of Riddle's beginnings. I had hoped that at least a cursory glance at the Gaunts and at Voldemort's obsessive ties to the Hogwarts Founders would make an appearance.
I don't regret, though, the way characters were portrayed. More than anything - even the beauty of the movie - I applaud that. As I've mentioned before, I think Dumbledore stole the show in more ways than one, and Hermione came more into her own in this film, establishing herself once again as magically competent but emotionally stunted in an often endearing, but sometimes frustrating, way. And Harry, our hero...what can be said about Harry except that even with Capslock of Doom and chest monsters run rampant, I love that kid, till death do us part. But to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. Or so I've been told. So maybe Harry and my obsession with him, as strong but not as terrifying as Voldemort's obsession with the Four Founders, will never die. Just like my admiration for his bravery and strength, and his ability to face up to his demons, has never faltered. There were times I wanted to wring Harry's neck in the movie, but most of the time, I wanted to pull him close and protect him from what was about to happen. The movie made me sympathize with Harry on its own merit, rather than a holdover from the books. It made me root for Slughorn, for God's sake, and wish well for Draco Malfoy of all people. You know those are strong performances when Draco Malfoy isn't a sniveling daddy's boy, but a sympathetic character whose plight is sad, if not tragic.
And once again, I have to say that revisiting these books can make me into an emotional wreck. I mean, the last two books, and particularly HBP, are hard for me to stomach. All books really affect me, as does fanfiction and writing in general, and Harry Potter is a particularly strong example of how attached I get to characters and their world. I told Dad this morning that I'm sure many fans went through what I did with book six, and that is what I call the "character death book throw." I threw Order of the Phoenix when we lost Sirius. I threw Half-Blood Prince when we lost Dumbledore. And I threw Deathly Hallows several times, though I only threw it to the other end of the couch and not on the floor or across the room as I did the other two books. The pages of my copies of HBP and DH are rumpled and misshapen from tears, and I'll always find my heart wrenched and stomped when Dumbledore dies, be it in the book or in the movie. There's just something about that pain of loss that never goes away, even for a fictional character. I hold the books and characters in such high regard that I don't ever want it to go away, either.
"People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading."