When I reviewed the first half of this two-part cinematic extravaganza, I said that most of the things that bothered me about the movie were also things that had bothered me about the first half of the book: namely, the massive amounts of angst and aimless wandering. So congratulations are due to Deathly Hallows Part II: This Time It's Personal, because I dislike it entirely on its own merits. Huzzah!
Okay, that's not entirely accurate. I didn't hate the movie—not by a long shot—but it rarely ever felt like it was rising above the level of “good enough.” The action scenes were entertaining, the special effects were at their usual level, and there were several legitimately awesome moments with some of the supporting characters (McGonagall and Snape, I'm looking at you), but it really wasn't the game-changing motion-picture event of a lifetime that it was hyped to be.
It was fun, sure, but the book was better (that damned epilogue notwithstanding)—and Deathly Hallows wasn't even my favorite book of the series. (That would be Prisoner of Azkaban because TIME TRAVEL. And because Sirius Black is awesome. And because it's wonderfully dark but the series hadn't yet started to take itself too seriously.)
But I digress.
Regardless of how good it is, Deathly Hallows is a Harry Potter movie—the last Harry Potter movie, to be precise—so the film is still going to make more money than a slender male prostitute on a six-week yacht cruise with a bunch of Republican legislators. There is literally nothing I can say that will change that, so I'm just going to spend the rest of my time nitpicking (shocking, I know). There are some spoilers, but honestly, it's a young-adult story about good versus evil—so everyone pretty much knows how it's going to end.
But yeah, you've been warned.
Here's the way I choose to remember the end of the book: Molly Weasley has her Crowning Moment of Awesome against Bellatrix, which she follows up by killing Voldemort and then also killing Harry for being such a giant douche for the last several books. Then she blows up Hogwarts (because why the hell not) and starts her own school of magic, where she teaches young witches and wizards to knit awesome sweaters and just generally not give a fuck. The school's coat of arms is a picture of Molly Weasley beating the living hell out of the Juggernaut, and its motto is “Shit just got REAL."
In short, Mrs. Weasley is made of pure, unadulterated badassery.
The movie seems to disagree, however. Rather than a Crowning Moment of Awesome, her fight with Bellatrix feels more like an Obligatory Moment of Above-Average Coolness. Mrs. Weasley gets the one-liner everyone was waiting for, but she seems more mildly annoyed than furious to the point of murder. The fight which follows is brief and not particularly spectacular, and ends with an extended death shot which leaves me with a couple questions—namely, how is a quick, instant-kill spell like Avada Kedavra on the list of Unforgivable Curses when another spell that makes you literally shrivel up and peel apart somehow isn't? That's kinda like saying “We can't execute this prisoner with a guillotine because it's too inhumane, so we're gonna flay him alive instead!"
Wizards, man. They're messed up.
Similarly, Neville Longbottom's display of gigantic brass balls in the face of insurmountable odds is greatly toned down for the movie (it's a Grudging Moment of Competence at best) so that the run-time can be padded with an extended Harry/Voldemort showdown and more shots of Ron and Hermione trying to kill the giant snake. I mean, I know that the filmmakers don't want the main characters to be overshadowed, but let's face it—Harry just isn't that interesting, and he's also not a great wizard. The only reason he's survived this long is because he's got friends and mentors who keep saving his dumb ass. He can cast a couple spells really well, but he's also gotten special treatment his entire time at Hogwarts because he's the magical Chosen One. Neville, on the other hand, started off as a laughably incompetent bumbler and has grown in confidence and skill to the point where he leads the resistance at school while Harry is busy wandering through the wilderness and being a dick to his best friends. Neville is the freaking Michael Collins of Hogwarts, and he has the stones to stand up to Voldemort himself when no one else will—and not only does he survive, he also pulls off one of the most awesome (and vital) kills of the entire book. The boy deserves his moment in the spotlight, dammit.
Or he could just get knocked out like a little bitch. That's cool too.
That being said, the confrontation with Snape in the Great Hall might be my favorite moment of the film series so far. I wish that the scene could have been a bit longer—not because it diminishes anything from the book, but because it was so damn cool that I wanted more time to enjoy it. Alan Rickman and Maggie Smith are just plain awesome, and it's nice to see such great actors step front and center for once. The whole scene pretty much screams “Sit back and take some notes, child actors: this is how we do it in the 'hood.” Furthermore, I really liked most of the flashback scenes which flesh out Snape's motivations; that sequence is probably as close to heartbreaking as anything in the movies can get (Dobby be damned). However, I'm sure that much of my reaction to those scenes is due to my previously-mentioned love of Alan Rickman.
Seriously. If he propositioned me, I would say yes in a heartbeat. That man's voice is like sex wrapped in velvet.
Ahem. Moving on.
There were a few other problems, like the fact that Harry's trusty wand never gets fixed—I guess that means he just keeps using Draco's wand from Deathly Hallows Part I for the rest of his life. No more “the wand chooses the wizard,” I guess. Does that count as magical-polyamory?
The one thing that I really remembered having a problem with in the book as well as the movie is the treatment of Slytherin students. Under normal circumstances, the administration at Hogwarts is apparently fine with having an entire house populated by sociopaths, douchebags, and pureblood supremacists at their school—but as soon as the shit hits the fan, they get sent off to the internment camp in the dungeons! And nobody seems to have a problem with this. In fact, everyone cheers. So here's the thing: if that's how it's going to be, why the fuck would the administration bother to keep Slytherin house around at all? Maybe instead of accepting students with violent antisocial tendencies, they should train the Sorting Hat to say “GET THE FUCK OUT” instead of “SLYTHERIN!”
But then at the end, one of the characters also tells his son that it's okay to be a Slytherin because OH HEY there can be brave and noble people in Slytherin too. But apparently you can be brave and noble and still get thrown in the dungeon for no reason other than your magically assigned house. Because that's justice.
Seriously, J. K. Rowling. What the hell.
Long story short, the movie is good but not great. It looks cool, the writing and acting are on par with the last several installments, and none of my problems with it were large enough to make me actively dislike it. Honestly, if you're a Harry Potter fan, you should see it at some point: it's the last part of an eight-film series which kept the same central cast (almost) through the whole damn run. That's pretty amazing, when you think about it.
Oh, yeah, and there was an audible groan from the audience when the “19 Years Later” title appeared onscreen at the end. Don't worry, though; it's more tolerable on film than it was in the book.
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