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Harry Potter friends confront wanted killer Sirius Black in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban |
Director: Alfonso Cuarón
Cast: Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter), Rupert Grint (Ron
Weasley), Emma Watson (Hermione Granger), Julie Christie (Madam Rosmerta),
Robbie Coltrane (Rubeus Hagrid), Michael Gambon (Albus Dumbledore), Richard
Griffiths (Vernon Dusley), Gary Oldman (Sirius Black), Alan Rickman (Severus
Snape), Fiona Shaw (Petrunia Dursley), Maggie Smith (Minerva McGonagall),
Timothy Spall (Peter Pettigrew), David Thewlis (Remus Lupin), Emma Thompson (Sybill
Trewlawney), Julie Walters (Molly Weasley), Mark Williams (Arthur Weasley), Tom
Felton (Draco Malfoy), David Bradley (Argus Filch), Robert Hardy (Cornelius
Fudge), Pam Ferris (Marge Dursley)
Well this is more like it. The first two films set the tone
and established the universe. But Prisoner
of Azkaban – filmed after a year’s break from the back-to-back filming of
the first two films – is such a notable step-up in quality from the previous
films, it completely stands alone as a marvellous piece of cinematic
storytelling, not just as part of a franchise.
Why is this? Well I think the answer is pretty clear. After
the solid, but unspectacular, direction from Chris Columbus, the reins were
handed to a gifted filmmaker in Alfonso Cuarón. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban has all the visual
invention and dynamism the first two films lacked. Alongside that, Cuarón tells
the story with a brilliant mixture of light and dark. For the first time, the
adaptation also escaped the need to dramatise everything in the book onto the
screen – this film is a good 20 minutes shorter than Chamber of Secrets but immeasurably superior.
Prisoner of Azkaban
looks fantastically gorgeous, and is brilliantly shot. The production and costume
design has been spruced up, to give the film a sort of steam-punk 1950s look,
as if the wizarding world had slightly arrested a few decades behind the rest
of the world. Cuarón was also one of the first directors in the series who
seemed relaxed enough to let the children act like children – so we get scenes
of them mucking around in the dormitory or dressed with a teenage coolness.
Hogwarts becomes a castle of shadows and gloom, in a magical, wintry whiteness
and Scottish Highlands shades of greens and blues. More than any of the previous films, its a world that feels 'real' and lived in. It’s a style that would
dominate all the remaining films: Cuarón essentially set the tone for the rest
of the series to come.
It also helps that Cuarón was blessed with perhaps the strongest
of Rowling’s stand-alone stories, a tight and taut thriller that reaches a
surprising conclusion and features playful use of things like time travel and illicit
magic. Cuarón, however, really embraces the emotional core of that story, and
allows all these characters to expand in richness and depth. Harry faces real
torment and anger when confronted with the story of the death of his parents,
and his desperate yearning to have some sort of connection with them is a key
thread that runs through almost every scene.
The film highlights the growing flirtation and connection
between Ron and Hermione. Hermione herself is increasingly shown as a level-headed,
empathetic young woman, who really understands the feelings of her friends.
Several other characters are allowed to show depths: don’t forget this is the
film where we see Snape’s first reaction when confronted with a werewolf is to
put himself between it and the children. Rickman, by the way, is brilliant in
this film, giving us the first hints of the deep and abiding feelings Snape held
for Harry’s mother in his bitter anger at Sirius.
As always the film introduces some fantastic new characters
into the mix. Gary Oldman is simply superb as Sirius Black, bringing to life
his torment and rage, but most especially Blacks warmth and generosity (as well
as his boyish enthusiasm). It was a major change of pace for Oldman, who has
credited the film with changing his image in Hollywood away from one-note
villain. Emma Thompson is very funny as (possibly) delusional divination teacher Sybil Trelawney. David Thewlis though waltzes off with the movie as a sad-eyed Remus
Lupin, a man who clearly has known great losses. Thewlis plays Lupin with a
caring, scruffy charm, an ideal teacher and mentor – generous but also firm
when needed. It’s impossible not to end the film caring deeply for him. He’s
terrific – it’s a real shame he never got another real showpiece scene in the
rest of the franchise.
This is also our first introduction to Michael Gambon as
Dumbledore – a replacement for the late Richard Harris. Gambon plays the part
with a curious twinkly cheekiness, and a greater physical robustness, along
with a faint Irish twang which feels like a homage to Harris. It’s a slightly
uncertain start, but Gambon’s unusual, slightly-faded-hippie take on the part
stands out from Harris’ austere wise-man very nicely. His lightness makes the
moments of power all the more awe-inspiring. It also rather fits in with the
tone of Cuarón’s slightly off-beat style.
Cuarón has a real eye for the offbeat gag – from a cleaner
almost being blown away by a monster’s howl in the Leaky Cauldron, to the kids
eating animal sweets in their dormitory, to Dumbledore’s off-camera delay
tactics with Fudge (“Well it is a very long name minister” he says when asked
to sign something), there are many delightful sight and sound gags throughout
the film to make it a joy to discover. His balance of this with the heart of
the story is brilliant: the inflation of Pam Ferris’ vile Aunt Marge is both
brilliantly funny, but also clearly motivated by the revolting things she
openly says to Harry about his parents. It’s a great balance the film pulls off
time and time again.
The film is wonderfully structured and beautifully paced.
It’s got a very clear five act structure, and thematic thread running through
the whole film of grief and needing friends to help cope with this. The parts
of the book that don’t contribute to this have been skilfully trimmed down.
Cuarón then brilliantly interweaves set-piece moments, many of them introduced
with an off-the-wall inventiveness, such as the umbrella dancing in the wind
before the storm-swept Quiddich match (is there any health and safety in this
school at all by the way?).
By the time you hit the final sequences, thanks to the
film’s structure, you’ve no doubt about the revolting dangers of the Dementors.
These spectral creatures are returned to again and again by Cuarón’s careful
editing, as we see them drifting around the borders of Hogwarts, killing
flowers and freezing lakes by their very presence. These terrifying creatures are
the creepy stuff of nightmares – and Cuarón doesn’t flinch from this. It also
makes Harry’s successful conjuring of a Patronus at the film’s conclusion a
stirring and triumphant moment, a suitable triumphal ending to the film.
Cuarón’s direction of this film re-set the table for the
entire franchise. Both Mike Newell and David Yates would follow in his
footsteps, and present the world as Cuarón imagined it: dark blacks, and muted
primary colours, as much a world of creepy, unsettling threat and danger, as it
was of delight and wonder. From this point on the films would start to stand on
their own feet, focusing on exploring the themes and emotions of Rowling’s
story, rather than covering every scene. Prisoner
of Azkaban is the best of the Harry Potter films and the most important
landmark in the series. It’s not just a great Harry Potter film, or a great
fantasy film or kids’ film. It’s a great film.
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