Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, Subsection 5, p III,

Chapter 28, Act iv.

Written by Nathalie Magri

*Contains mild spoilers if you haven’t read the book*

Here is a brief review of the movie that I saw last night, and the reason why my bitternessfor humanity has eeked up a little. Like all written opinions, everyone will jump downmy throat and call me Hitler. But keep in mind that I AM WRITING THIS ONLINE,WHICH MAKES ME A GOD. Imagine a thin, reedy Liverpudlian accent telling you thatI’m bigger than Jesus.

And so, with the latest and final movie installation, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2, comes the close to an era that we twenty-somethings grew up with.People dressed up like wizards for book openings so that spoilers could be screamed atthem from passing cars. Quidditch became an outdoors sport, encouraged so that those people could get out of their basements and cat-shrines.

I only read the first five books, leaving off at Order of the Phoenix, in which Harrydiscovers his menstrual cycle for 800 pages. I’ve seen all of the movies, however, butkeep in mind that my judgment of  Deathly Hallows is based only on the movie, not the book (which I hear was crap anyway, in the sense that author Just Kidding Rowling losther whimsical train of thought and killed 400 commuters in the process).

We pick right up where we left off with the last movie, which came out last December,and already I’m confused. I’m trying to decide which dwarf Wharwick Davies has beencourt-ordered to appear as. We get some cool establishing shots of Hogwarts Castle’sgrounds, surrounded by dementors, which looks great if you ponied up the $35 to see it in3-D. Alan Rickman reprises his role as Trent Reznor, and a Pink Floyd music video istaking place below in the castle. Ron’s hair is worse than ever, Harry still hasn’t bathed,and Hermione is cute as a button in her little denim jacket and knit gloves.

Let’s fast forward to the action, which may have been the best advice for the editor of  Deathly Hallows part 1. For those of us who have been struggling to come to terms withour attraction to Emma Watson, the movie offers a nice, unhindered cleavage shot earlyin. Helena Bonham Carter plays herself, with husband/agent Tim Burton as the dragon.J.K. Rowling, who had apparently been watching Raiders of the Lost Ark while penningsome action scenes for her book, gives us some gratuitous goblin-charring and double-crossing betrayal which went over my head because I was still trying to figure out whichone was Warwick Davies. Luckily, Harry escapes out the door and still manages to grabhis fedora.

The visuals in this movie are praise-worthy, the 3-D was actually present in the movie,and the set designs and antique thingamabob props were creative. That said, I don’t

 

understand why the hell Lord of the Rings was in this movie. Set in present-day England,giant trolls with John Goodman’s face wreaked havoc on the fighting suits of armor from Bedknobs and Broomsticks, all taking place on the grounds of Hogwarts-Tirith. Rondonned a pair of green tights and scaled a mumakil , shooting it in the head with an arrowto fell it and then surfing down the stairs on an Uruk-hai’s shield.

But this movie isn’t just for insufferable cat-lovers, we have to give emo kids somethingto watch while knitting their Slytherin scarves. Since Draco Malfoy and his seven poundsof pomade are now basically out of the picture, we get Snape, whose fierce death is pansified into Harry collecting his tears in a bottle so that he can rig up an Evanescencemusic video in Dumbledore’s penseive (see what she did there? Oh, J.K, you rogue!You veritable linguist , you!) Here we find out that Snape was actually EdwardScissorhands (alternately, a Culkin kid) when he was younger, and has been stalkerishlycrushing on Harry’s mom all these years, even while his face was CG. They even havematching patronuses and stuff. And Harry’s okay with that because he has his mother’seyes, something which has been creepily said at him roughly a thousand times before.And speaking of roughly a thousand times before, how about those pep-talks from ghostsscenes, huh? Or ethereally speaking in riddles, or learning about the strength within your friends and your own heart, right? They were packing in the Care Bear crap with an icecream scoop of fuzzy goodness and unicorn farts. There was also a charming homage tothe Scott Pilgrim 1-up death scene, this time including Dumbledore, who was clearly lostand had forgotten his meds. And, what would have been an impressive moment betweenVoldemort and Harry is reduced to a mental snigger when Voldemort utters a sound fromhis creepy noseless face (modeled after the late Anna Nicole Smith) similar to Lion-O’scall to the Thundercats (if you are unfamiliar with this, it goes, “OOOOOOOOOOOOO!”Or, in Voldemort’s case, “OOOOOOOOVADA KEDAVRA!” Or, in Steve Miller Band’s case, “Abra, Abracadabra.” Or, in Pokemon’s case, “Abra, who evolves intoKadabra after level 16”).

At this point, J.K. had run out of things to steal from, so she reverts to her usual method:Harry’s friends and teachers save the day! Yes, that’s right, after hours/pages of Harrycrying into his pillow, getting migraines, and running around looking for stuff, someoneelse saves his ass! Truly a remarkable wizard, who is deserving of what I’m sure will become a catchphrase hit, “Lightning has struck! I repeat, lightning has struck!”

 Now, it wasn’t enough punishment that we had to see Ron with his shirt off (again). No,the movie rubs our noses in our own excrement by including the filmed version of theepilogue, which, as everyone knows, involves Harry bidding a long, tearful farewell tohis friends and sailing off to the Gray Havens with Bilbo and Gandalf Dumbledore. Other than the girls’ hair being frump-ified, we are now supposed to believe that these 20 year-olds are the mothers and fathers of 10-year-olds. Harry’s son, Albus Severus Panera TonyStark Fezzgig Potter, serves only to encourage impressionable Harry Potter fans that it’ssocially acceptable, nay, “quirky,” to name your infant “Albus.”

The very last image we are given includes Ron and Hermione’s disturbingly mop-hairedoffspring, foiling my brain that there can be worse hair than Ron’s. I had only just

 

finished mentally sorting out the fact that the Weasely twins now 80 percent resemble aCharlie MacCarthy doll, and the fact that Helena Bonham Carter’s anti-climatic deathscene was coupled with a Terminator -esque catchphrase (which I was horrified to learnwas actually a line in the book). Undulating through all of these thoughts was thefrustration of how arbitrary the magic in this world is. You can turn goblets into animals but you can’t mend a damn wound. EVERYONE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE and J.K.wouldn’t have to resort to George R.R. Martin’s tactic of indiscriminate character deathto look like a good writer.

It will be interesting to see where these actors go now that the franchise is over. So far,Harry has been naked on Broadway, Neville is now hot, Ron presumably has bad hair somewhere, and Hermione got her bajingo photographed while getting out of a car.Sounds like we’re off to a good start! As for me, I’ll just be sitting back, anticipating therelease of a normal, plausible series like Twilight: Breaking Dawn.