| Cho Chang (Katie Leung) revels in the movie's prettiest shot. © 2005 Warner Bros. Pictures |
Goblet of Fire review: Continued/Concluded.
The thing is -- oh, what is the thing? -- the thing is, there's a whole lot of build-up and spectacle, but precious little
pay-off or heightened stakes. The Challenge in The Black Lake, for instance -- first of all, it's supposed to be Dobby who
helps Harry discover the miracle of "Gillyweed" (I have been revelling in notions of Gillyweed all week, thanks), but
whatever, that of course has changed. From the towering platforms above the water to the mer-maids themselves (sadly,
I detected no hostile mer-men), the visuals are extraordinary! But something about the pacing really confounds what the
viewer is expected to feel. Naturally, right behind Neville on the platform, we have a thrilled TBE beaming for the hero
who is Harry Potter, but then we're forced through the underwater bits, as with everything else, with a troubling haste.
It's all played out with great visual expertise, but only upon the second viewing did I feel like it was really happening. I
think what snapped me to attention was when Emma Watson shouted out a line about "grindylows" as if anyone in the
audience who hasn't read the book could possibly have any idea what that could mean. I got a nice laugh and realized that
the movie's hyper pacing pretty much takes it into the realm of the abstract, and perhaps we should enjoy it as such.
It's around this point in the movie that one starts questioning Moody's motives a bit, too, as he is frequently seen to be
sneaking gulps from his hip-flask, and here he engages the vaguely Hitler-looking Minister of Magic, Barty Crouch
(Roger Lloyd-Pack) in an unpleasant manner. In the book, this involves a rather frightening mystery which concerns
Hermione and Krum and Harry and the chief Wizards of Hogwarts and, especially, Crouch emerging, raving, from the
Forbidden Forest -- only to vanish quite terribly shortly thereafter. Here the whole thing is a toss-off. We don't even get
the Marauder's Map. It's also pretty weird that Crouch's troubled son (David Tennant), who is revealed gradually in the
book, is here transplanted to the movie's opening scene (which, happily, arrives truncated but largely undamaged, parallel
to its literary counterpart).
Hey, why not mention this now: I can't help but wonder if Warner Bros. hasn't kept a thoroughly brilliant Ace up their
sleeve, as far as marketing is concerned. Having learnt from their subsidiary New Line how much people are willing to
pay for extended DVD cuts of fave movies (in particular, The Lord of the Rings), have they indeed stashed many "cut"
scenes from the Harry Potter series, to "surprise" us with them in the context of a hella-overproduced Harry Potter
Complete Edition Extravaganza HD-DVD Box Set (presumably sometime around Christmas, 2012)? In short, will Peeves
the Poltergeist finally be a part of the visualized Hogwarts? Has Rik Mayall made any money yet? Does his accountant
know? Hello?
Indeed, it was a fool's errand to try to adapt a book -- even a children's book -- with this many setups into a
comprehensible feature film. The movie's introduction (literally ten chapters squeezed into ten minutes!) is hilariously
hyper-paced, verging on totally incomprehensible absurdity. Viewers who have not read the book may have no idea what
to make of all the sudden dashing from Weasley house to some old magical, "manky old boot" on a hillside to a wizardly
campground to a massive mega-CG-enhanced Quidditch World Cup tournament to what suddenly appear to be curiously
black-hooded Klansman (you know, those "Death Eaters") torching everything. Still, I asked a total Pro at the second
screening what he thought of this opening sequence, and although he joked that it was such a long time ago he could
barely remember it (the movie is an obstacle course of episodes stretched out over 2 2/3 hours), he did mention that he
found it all very exciting and that it got him right into the movie. Perhaps there's something to be said for spectacle (and
for Ron right away uttering "Bloody hell!" -- his first of a few amusing profanities uttered throughout).
What were other people thinking? Well, at the second screening, one woman dressed up as a witch, complete with tall,
pointy hat, prompting all of those sitting behind her to discuss rather loudly whether or not she'd be removing the silly
thing (which she did, whew, right when the lights went down and the scary skulls appeared); obviously, she was pretty
into it. I overheard a younger woman standing behind me in the queue outside saying the following: "I like the books
because, they're, like, imaginative!" -- that was pretty sweet. Meanwhile, inside, another woman practically shouted, "I
love the tapes," (sic) "-- the guy that reads them is fabulous!" (Honey, if only you knew how fabulous.) I was also
secretly amused when two overweight girls sat next to me, and one loudly announced her dissatisfaction with the size of
her chair, thusly: "God forbid you're, like, a larger person; you're fucked!" (italics hers; semicolon mine). Meanwhile, a
few days earlier at the first screening, a very enjoyable woman named Debbie was sitting next to me, and she gave me
chocolate, and she and her daughter were having a wonderful time during the movie, and she kept holding her daughter's
hand during the scary parts. I really enjoyed knowing they were there throughout the duration, having fun.
Oh, except for this: There's a shot in the Yule Ball sequence in which everybody is pairing up (Dumbledore and
McGonegall, Moody and his flask, etc.), and the crotchety old Hogwarts caretaker, Filch (David Bradley) is shown, very
briefly, swaying back and forth with his ugly old cat, Mrs. Norris. At both screenings, both times, like Pavlovian dogs,
the women in the theatre were heard to cry out: "Awwwwww!!!!" Which prompts one of my Eternal Questions: Why
are females so utterly messed up over cats? (Have fun sending me hate-mail, incidentally.)
Oh, and when Harry eventually lands in this movie's primary Spooky Place, a woman sitting behind me was heard to say,
"Ooh, I hate this part!" -- even though she had never seen the movie before. The miracle of reading.
Worth noting: Everybody applauded a lot when the movie began, and when it ended.
Let us now very briefly address The Third Challenge: It's a bit of a let-down, frankly. A lot of noise and mean-spirited
hedges. No Skrewt. No Sphinx. Sure as heck no Labyrinth. Just something totally incomprehensible about Krum being
suddenly "bewitched" (which means, I suppose, that he's suddenly seen wearing milky contacts and acting really mean).
There's some visual excitement to the whole shebang, but, again, no sense of timing, no hints about what we're supposed
to be feeling. Noise instead of suspense.
It's very strange to find myself criticizing director Mike Newell in this manner, because I was generally okay with Four
Weddings and a Funeral, and I really liked Into the West -- a rollicking yarn about two Irish lads who gallop away from
their tenement on a semi-mythic horse, which came out around the last time I can remember being happy. Something
about the Harry Potter mythos has eluded him, though. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is a great movie, and yet,
much more than with any of the other movies in the franchise, I felt very, very jerked around by it, as though the
director were doing all he could to put his distinctive stamp on the material -- except he couldn't figure out exactly what
that stamp was supposed to be. The result is more of a crazy dash through Potterworld than a dreamy wander -- and I
happen to be a dreamy wanderer by nature.
In a way, this movie suffers a malady which I'd like to call "Hook-ism", wherein the suffering project forces noise,
chaos and more noise upon an audience, rather than seducing us with charms and magic. Several years ago, Spielberg's
Hook failed because it contained only about fifteen minutes (or less) of actual charm and whimsy, with the rest
composed of loud banter and obnoxious shenanigans, plus of course that often not-so-great actor Dustin Hoffman
mumbling incomprehensible (yet presumably bad) dialogue. Sadly, although not nearly as badly afflicted, Harry Potter
and the Goblet of Fire suffers a bit from the same sickness, underestimating the imaginative capacities of its audience,
and ripping us off in terms of magical seduction. It is often glorious to behold, but I wish it had been daring.
At which point we wend our way to the home stretch of this reviewing process: Why is the Harry Potter franchise so
important? Why does it prompt such extravagant behavior in so many, many, many people? Well, for one, I sincerely
believe that the world has no real use for the James Bond franchise anymore: a product of the past, the Cold War ended a
long time ago, throw it out (yet condolences to Mr. Brosnan for being robbed of his proper exit; who is Daniel Craig and
why should we care?) By contrast, the Harry Potter franchise helps to carry us into the increasingly techno-crazy future
with a vital sense of homely wonder. For another, the characterisations in the Harry Potter franchise are truly wondrous,
the work of an artist with stunning abilities for pinpointing archetypes and bringing them straight to our doorsteps. For
yet another, Ms. Rowling -- for all the slagging off she takes for having money exploding out of her arse -- knows her
mythology and how to use it, probably more than even the machine supporting her can comprehend. Then there's the
increasing globalisation of the whole deal -- The Many Colours of Hogwarts, if you will: Obviously producer David
Heyman runs the show (and is invited to toss money back into the World Kitty, which is sorely needing it), but whether
or not the machinations of Hollywood Types are behind this wonderful illusion, something beautiful and -- yes -- magical
is happening up there on that screen -- something the world gets. Not a gun in sight. No endless repetitions of war
motifs. No coked-up self-mockery. Something much more inspiring, something lyrical and lovely no matter how it's
edited together, something involving natural energies and self-confidence and harmonics beyond the comprehension of
humans -- Muggle, Wizard, Witch or otherwise. Crazy religious people can get their panties in a bunch over whether or
not it's "Say-tonic" (Ha!), because it isn't and that's ridiculous. The Harry Potter franchise is, rather, concerned with
finding Beauty and Joy amidst terrible sadness -- for without that sadness, there is no story here. It's infinitely relatable.
It's thrilling. And, for anyone who had to suffer through years of school being a terrible, fluorescent-lit prison (en route
to worse, fluorescent-lit prisons), the thought of someplace like Hogwarts existing, even in dreams, is a great comfort.
This hideous modern world without Harry Potter?
Unthinkable!
(With great thanks to Leonard Maltin, one of the nicest and most brilliant cinéastes one ever could encounter.)
(And to Warner Bros. -- for being the grooviest of the studios.)
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Entertainment Value: 11/13
Style: 9/13
Philosophical Insight: 10/13
- Gregory Weinkauf, 15 November, 2005
Happy Birthday to Me,
And Some Kind of Farewell.
The thing is -- oh, what is the thing? -- the thing is, there's a whole lot of build-up and spectacle, but precious little
pay-off or heightened stakes. The Challenge in The Black Lake, for instance -- first of all, it's supposed to be Dobby who
helps Harry discover the miracle of "Gillyweed" (I have been revelling in notions of Gillyweed all week, thanks), but
whatever, that of course has changed. From the towering platforms above the water to the mer-maids themselves (sadly,
I detected no hostile mer-men), the visuals are extraordinary! But something about the pacing really confounds what the
viewer is expected to feel. Naturally, right behind Neville on the platform, we have a thrilled TBE beaming for the hero
who is Harry Potter, but then we're forced through the underwater bits, as with everything else, with a troubling haste.
It's all played out with great visual expertise, but only upon the second viewing did I feel like it was really happening. I
think what snapped me to attention was when Emma Watson shouted out a line about "grindylows" as if anyone in the
audience who hasn't read the book could possibly have any idea what that could mean. I got a nice laugh and realized that
the movie's hyper pacing pretty much takes it into the realm of the abstract, and perhaps we should enjoy it as such.
It's around this point in the movie that one starts questioning Moody's motives a bit, too, as he is frequently seen to be
sneaking gulps from his hip-flask, and here he engages the vaguely Hitler-looking Minister of Magic, Barty Crouch
(Roger Lloyd-Pack) in an unpleasant manner. In the book, this involves a rather frightening mystery which concerns
Hermione and Krum and Harry and the chief Wizards of Hogwarts and, especially, Crouch emerging, raving, from the
Forbidden Forest -- only to vanish quite terribly shortly thereafter. Here the whole thing is a toss-off. We don't even get
the Marauder's Map. It's also pretty weird that Crouch's troubled son (David Tennant), who is revealed gradually in the
book, is here transplanted to the movie's opening scene (which, happily, arrives truncated but largely undamaged, parallel
to its literary counterpart).
Hey, why not mention this now: I can't help but wonder if Warner Bros. hasn't kept a thoroughly brilliant Ace up their
sleeve, as far as marketing is concerned. Having learnt from their subsidiary New Line how much people are willing to
pay for extended DVD cuts of fave movies (in particular, The Lord of the Rings), have they indeed stashed many "cut"
scenes from the Harry Potter series, to "surprise" us with them in the context of a hella-overproduced Harry Potter
Complete Edition Extravaganza HD-DVD Box Set (presumably sometime around Christmas, 2012)? In short, will Peeves
the Poltergeist finally be a part of the visualized Hogwarts? Has Rik Mayall made any money yet? Does his accountant
know? Hello?
Indeed, it was a fool's errand to try to adapt a book -- even a children's book -- with this many setups into a
comprehensible feature film. The movie's introduction (literally ten chapters squeezed into ten minutes!) is hilariously
hyper-paced, verging on totally incomprehensible absurdity. Viewers who have not read the book may have no idea what
to make of all the sudden dashing from Weasley house to some old magical, "manky old boot" on a hillside to a wizardly
campground to a massive mega-CG-enhanced Quidditch World Cup tournament to what suddenly appear to be curiously
black-hooded Klansman (you know, those "Death Eaters") torching everything. Still, I asked a total Pro at the second
screening what he thought of this opening sequence, and although he joked that it was such a long time ago he could
barely remember it (the movie is an obstacle course of episodes stretched out over 2 2/3 hours), he did mention that he
found it all very exciting and that it got him right into the movie. Perhaps there's something to be said for spectacle (and
for Ron right away uttering "Bloody hell!" -- his first of a few amusing profanities uttered throughout).
What were other people thinking? Well, at the second screening, one woman dressed up as a witch, complete with tall,
pointy hat, prompting all of those sitting behind her to discuss rather loudly whether or not she'd be removing the silly
thing (which she did, whew, right when the lights went down and the scary skulls appeared); obviously, she was pretty
into it. I overheard a younger woman standing behind me in the queue outside saying the following: "I like the books
because, they're, like, imaginative!" -- that was pretty sweet. Meanwhile, inside, another woman practically shouted, "I
love the tapes," (sic) "-- the guy that reads them is fabulous!" (Honey, if only you knew how fabulous.) I was also
secretly amused when two overweight girls sat next to me, and one loudly announced her dissatisfaction with the size of
her chair, thusly: "God forbid you're, like, a larger person; you're fucked!" (italics hers; semicolon mine). Meanwhile, a
few days earlier at the first screening, a very enjoyable woman named Debbie was sitting next to me, and she gave me
chocolate, and she and her daughter were having a wonderful time during the movie, and she kept holding her daughter's
hand during the scary parts. I really enjoyed knowing they were there throughout the duration, having fun.
Oh, except for this: There's a shot in the Yule Ball sequence in which everybody is pairing up (Dumbledore and
McGonegall, Moody and his flask, etc.), and the crotchety old Hogwarts caretaker, Filch (David Bradley) is shown, very
briefly, swaying back and forth with his ugly old cat, Mrs. Norris. At both screenings, both times, like Pavlovian dogs,
the women in the theatre were heard to cry out: "Awwwwww!!!!" Which prompts one of my Eternal Questions: Why
are females so utterly messed up over cats? (Have fun sending me hate-mail, incidentally.)
Oh, and when Harry eventually lands in this movie's primary Spooky Place, a woman sitting behind me was heard to say,
"Ooh, I hate this part!" -- even though she had never seen the movie before. The miracle of reading.
Worth noting: Everybody applauded a lot when the movie began, and when it ended.
Let us now very briefly address The Third Challenge: It's a bit of a let-down, frankly. A lot of noise and mean-spirited
hedges. No Skrewt. No Sphinx. Sure as heck no Labyrinth. Just something totally incomprehensible about Krum being
suddenly "bewitched" (which means, I suppose, that he's suddenly seen wearing milky contacts and acting really mean).
There's some visual excitement to the whole shebang, but, again, no sense of timing, no hints about what we're supposed
to be feeling. Noise instead of suspense.
It's very strange to find myself criticizing director Mike Newell in this manner, because I was generally okay with Four
Weddings and a Funeral, and I really liked Into the West -- a rollicking yarn about two Irish lads who gallop away from
their tenement on a semi-mythic horse, which came out around the last time I can remember being happy. Something
about the Harry Potter mythos has eluded him, though. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is a great movie, and yet,
much more than with any of the other movies in the franchise, I felt very, very jerked around by it, as though the
director were doing all he could to put his distinctive stamp on the material -- except he couldn't figure out exactly what
that stamp was supposed to be. The result is more of a crazy dash through Potterworld than a dreamy wander -- and I
happen to be a dreamy wanderer by nature.
In a way, this movie suffers a malady which I'd like to call "Hook-ism", wherein the suffering project forces noise,
chaos and more noise upon an audience, rather than seducing us with charms and magic. Several years ago, Spielberg's
Hook failed because it contained only about fifteen minutes (or less) of actual charm and whimsy, with the rest
composed of loud banter and obnoxious shenanigans, plus of course that often not-so-great actor Dustin Hoffman
mumbling incomprehensible (yet presumably bad) dialogue. Sadly, although not nearly as badly afflicted, Harry Potter
and the Goblet of Fire suffers a bit from the same sickness, underestimating the imaginative capacities of its audience,
and ripping us off in terms of magical seduction. It is often glorious to behold, but I wish it had been daring.
At which point we wend our way to the home stretch of this reviewing process: Why is the Harry Potter franchise so
important? Why does it prompt such extravagant behavior in so many, many, many people? Well, for one, I sincerely
believe that the world has no real use for the James Bond franchise anymore: a product of the past, the Cold War ended a
long time ago, throw it out (yet condolences to Mr. Brosnan for being robbed of his proper exit; who is Daniel Craig and
why should we care?) By contrast, the Harry Potter franchise helps to carry us into the increasingly techno-crazy future
with a vital sense of homely wonder. For another, the characterisations in the Harry Potter franchise are truly wondrous,
the work of an artist with stunning abilities for pinpointing archetypes and bringing them straight to our doorsteps. For
yet another, Ms. Rowling -- for all the slagging off she takes for having money exploding out of her arse -- knows her
mythology and how to use it, probably more than even the machine supporting her can comprehend. Then there's the
increasing globalisation of the whole deal -- The Many Colours of Hogwarts, if you will: Obviously producer David
Heyman runs the show (and is invited to toss money back into the World Kitty, which is sorely needing it), but whether
or not the machinations of Hollywood Types are behind this wonderful illusion, something beautiful and -- yes -- magical
is happening up there on that screen -- something the world gets. Not a gun in sight. No endless repetitions of war
motifs. No coked-up self-mockery. Something much more inspiring, something lyrical and lovely no matter how it's
edited together, something involving natural energies and self-confidence and harmonics beyond the comprehension of
humans -- Muggle, Wizard, Witch or otherwise. Crazy religious people can get their panties in a bunch over whether or
not it's "Say-tonic" (Ha!), because it isn't and that's ridiculous. The Harry Potter franchise is, rather, concerned with
finding Beauty and Joy amidst terrible sadness -- for without that sadness, there is no story here. It's infinitely relatable.
It's thrilling. And, for anyone who had to suffer through years of school being a terrible, fluorescent-lit prison (en route
to worse, fluorescent-lit prisons), the thought of someplace like Hogwarts existing, even in dreams, is a great comfort.
This hideous modern world without Harry Potter?
Unthinkable!
(With great thanks to Leonard Maltin, one of the nicest and most brilliant cinéastes one ever could encounter.)
(And to Warner Bros. -- for being the grooviest of the studios.)
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Entertainment Value: 11/13
Style: 9/13
Philosophical Insight: 10/13
- Gregory Weinkauf, 15 November, 2005
Happy Birthday to Me,
And Some Kind of Farewell.
| REVIEWS |
| ÜberCiné |
™
| All Material Here © ÜberCiné (unless otherwise noted) - All Rights Reserved. |
 | |  |
| The Cinéma Critic In Action. © 2005 Warner Bros. Pictures |