Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the third of eight films in the Harry Potter series, represents in a lot of ways a changing of the guard:  Alfonso Cuarón takes the directorial reins from Chris Columbus, Michael Gambon assumes the role of Albus Dumbledore, and a general mood of darkness falls over the franchise.  And really, only one of these things is less than ideal, because Azkaban feels the most accomplished of the three Harry Potter films thus far.

Though the wizarding world at large is content to conceal the truth from Harry, Ron, and Hermione (Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson), the recent escape of Sirius Black (Gary Oldman) from the wizard prison Azkaban puts them all in great danger – Black was imprisoned for betraying Harry’s parents and facilitating their deaths at the hands of the dark lord Voldemort. With soul-sucking Dementors prowling Hogwarts in search of the escaped convict, Harry must confront the untold secrets of his past, while new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Remus Lupin (David Thewlis) teaches him to repel the Dementors.

Cuarón, who struck gold two years ago with the breathtaking Gravity, is perhaps an unlikely choice to take the helm on a major kid-friendly franchise; though well-known at the time for his hard-R Y tu mama también, he had already acquitted himself well with the fantastical The Little Princess (the VHS tape of which still holds fond memories for my sister and me, worn out though it may be). In fact, one might be forgiven for thinking that Azkaban was directed by Tim Burton, for Cuarón replaces Columbus’s austere candlelit corridors with dark and angular shadows, winding passageways, and a color palette more night than day.

It’s a marked difference from the style Columbus worked to cultivate, a style that fit the source material quite well, but I appreciate Cuarón’s decision to innovate visually and take Hogwarts in a moodier direction. It helps the franchise feel less like a kiddy-movie and moves it into a more mature and, I think, more interesting direction. As much as I appreciated it in the first two films, there is only so much wide-eyed wonderment that Harry Potter can be allowed before he grows up and accepts the wizarding world as his new normal. Cuarón’s play with shadows and his modified colors give us the sense of a world being lived-in, being inhabited.

The elephant in the room here is, of course, the recasting of Dumbledore after the unfortunate passing of Richard Harris. It’s important to recognize that Gambon is doing something different with Dumbledore – a more knowing, more wearied headmaster to Harris’s kinder, gentler Dumbledore – but I have to concede that it is not to my liking. I’d have preferred Peter O’Toole inherit the role (as, I understand, Harris’s family lobbied), for there is something about Gambon’s temperament that strikes a false chord for me, something almost perplexingly youthful in a character who shouldn’t be. Gambon isn’t patently bad as Dumbledore, and for that reason the revolt will have to wait for now.

I’d also like to levy a modest complaint about the underuse of the always commendable Gary Oldman, whose turn as Sirius Black amounts to little more than a cameo. This is a minor grievance, a clash of the role’s smallness in the book juxtaposed with the screen presence of Oldman. He is, of course, cast as a guarantee for future films, but one can’t help but wish Prisoner of Azkaban had just a bit more of said prisoner in the film.

These are, though, as I’ve said, small nits to pick in a film which is otherwise highly enjoyable. My personal favorite of the series (at least, on memory – I’ve only seen the next five films once each), Prisoner of Azkaban is well-crafted and engaging, with a central mystery that holds up on rewatch and a visual style that sells the film even without the ever-capable score by John Williams. On the whole, I’m feeling rather good about reviewing the Harry Potter series.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is rated PG for “frightening moments, creature violence and mild language.” There are some jump scenes in this one, including an attack from a wolf-like creature and an enormous dog, to say nothing of the appearance of the Dementors (ghostly, soul-devouring prison guards) in a few scenes. The film also includes a hippogriff (half eagle, half horse) which is meant to be gentle once one sees past the gruff exterior, the threat of execution, and an escaped demented prisoner.

Gravity (2013)

If Alfonso Cuarón isn’t a name you already know (most recently, see also Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Children of Men), I truly hope that Gravity is the movie that changes that for you.  Although I’m willing to chock up some of my exuberance to the giddy breathlessness that accompanies a late-night screening after an otherwise dismal Friday, I’m sure that when I wake up in the morning I’ll have similarly positive things to say about Gravity.

Sandra Bullock and George Clooney star as spacewalking astronauts Ryan Stone and Matt Kowalski on a routine space shuttle mission.  The peaceful silence of space, though, quickly gives way to devastating terror when incoming space debris sends the astronauts hurtling through the vastness of deep space.

As someone who was a little bored and more than a little underwhelmed by 2001: A Space Odyssey (though maybe I was too young to appreciate it, as was the case with The Shining), the idea of 91 minutes in scientifically accurate space seemed unexciting, the perfect recipe for tedium.  But make no mistake:  while Gravity carries a rather sparse plot, Cuarón crafts an intense film that can really only be described as an experience.  Long stretches of the film play out in near silence, protracting the crushing tension of the protagonists’ literally impossible struggle to survive in such an unforgiving environment.

Full disclosure?  The tension becomes so unbearable that I almost cried at one point.  After a mesmerizing long-take opening that introduces us to the physics of orbit, a pervading sense of inescapable danger grips the audience and really never lets go (aside from a few deflating moments that are criminal to spoil because of how well they work).  Cuarón deftly keeps the anxiety just under boiling, turning your knuckles white without cracking the armrest onto which you’re gripping for dear life.  It’s riveting, connecting us to characters so simply and so effectively that their hopeless struggle gets us right in the most primal places – either slackjawed breathlessness or the tears of inescapable doom.

Though the star of the film is clearly and rightly Cuarón’s directorial skill, Bullock and Clooney are solid supports for the movie magic; having attained reputations as Hollywood’s everywoman and –man, they bring instant relatability without sacrificing any of the thespianic skill you’d lose with a cast of unknowns.  At the same time, they don’t rest on their recognizable laurels and allow the visual effects to carry the film; aside from a few forgivable moments of mildly ham-handed character development, Bullock and Clooney are in top form, playing distilled versions of their respective personae (Bullock as the career-driven single mom, Clooney as the gregarious professional).

Having said that, I doubt that Gravity will win any new converts to the Bullock or Clooney Clubs, nor do I anticipate much love in those departments come awards season.  I can’t, however, imagine that Cuarón will emerge unhonored; rather, the smart money goes toward Cuarón taking home a few statues, either for his taut and edgy script or for his directorial aplomb.  I really can’t stress enough – nor can I do justice in mere prose – how effective Gravity is at quickly engaging the viewer and then buckling them in for the closest approximation of weightlessness and all its perils.  Cuarón, pardon the cliché, really shows how it’s done by setting what I’m predicting is a gold standard in science fiction film (between this and Nolan’s Interstellar:  good luck, Star Wars), and it’s unfathomable to suppose that he won’t gain some wider attention outside of the “auteur” (read: indie) box into which he’s often unfairly placed.  How appropriate, then, if this is the film that launches Cuarón into the big leagues.

As an October release, Gravity is somewhat hidden, sandwiched between summer blockbusters and winter Oscar bait.  But I’m confident that I’m not alone in positioning Gravity as easily one of the top ten films I’ve seen this year, a real breathless tour de force that’s at once exhausting and exhilarating.

Gravity is rated PG-13 “for intense perilous sequences, some disturbing images and brief strong language.”  We see the grisly aftereffects of exposure to deep space in the form of a few lifeless bodies; the potential for an awful suffocating death dogs our protagonists’ every step/float, and at times the tension is nearly unbearable.  One F-bomb gets dropped, a welcome relief from the crushing silence.