Erika's Review
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

For in dreams we enter a world that’s entirely our own…”
--Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (film version)

So Albus Dumbledore says, while staring knowingly over the body of supposedly slumbering Harry Potter. And so Alfonso Cuaron realizes, with his stunningly beautiful adaptation of J.K. Rowling’s smash children’s classic.

Playing around with Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is a dangerous business—after all, it has been dubbed by most fans as the most beloved of her five Harry Potter novels. But Mexican director Alfonso Cuaron, who took the reins from director Chris Columbus for this third installment of the Harry Potter film series, takes that in stride, and like Dumbledore sagely notes, maker her world entirely his own.

For seasoned fans of the books (like those who understand the Quibbler!) Prisoner of Azkaban is pretty much an all-or-nothing movie. Meaning, you either love it, or you hate it. If you want a page per page version of the book, you’re going to be disappointed—so much has changed from Rowling’s literary world that the movie really is nothing more than a cut and paste skeleton of her enchanting book. But for fans seeking not a literary adaptation, but a good adaptation, there is no way you can be disappointed with Cuaron’s dreamlike world.

The movie quickly rushes through the Dursleys and the Knight Bus; the director is obviously pushing to get Harry to Hogwarts. Not surprising, perhaps, for anyone can see that when he first sets foot on the train is when the story really begins. From the moment the Hogwarts Express lurches to an uncomfortable, frigid stop, Cuaron launches the audience into an incessantly moving story, guiding them through rhythmic plot sequences—some fast paced and exciting, others slow, soft, and endearing. He never loses control, even in the most mind whirling of parts; though the dialogue might be rushed, and one will have to see the story again to completely understand it, the movie is never too fast not to be enjoyed.

Of course, one might expect that an adaptation of so enjoyable a book as Prisoner of Azkaban would end up being good; after all, the first two movie adaptations were quite enjoyable within themselves. But Azkaban rises above its predecessors for two reasons: for one, the cast has matured significantly, and secondly, the director cares about the little details—and it is in those that the difference is really made.

The casting of Daniel Radcliffe as Harry raised eyebrows among Harry Potter fans in 2000. For one thing, he didn’t look the part, and for a second, his wide-eyed, though adorable, version of Harry never quite captured the darker, more complex feelings that book Harry possessed. He tried, but could never quite get there.

In Prisoner of Azkaban, he finally lets go of the stigma of being Harry, and is free to just be Harry.

And he’s absolutely smashing at it.

It is he, and not the graphics, or the Quidditch CGI, or the werewolves or animagi or hippogriffs, that make up the heart of this movie. This film’s core is all about Harry, not his enchanted world, and Dan embraces that wholeheartedly, showing a range of emotion that is not only believable, but moving. He cries, he faints, he gets angry—all feelings that Harry has experienced, performed in the way Harry experienced them.

Cuaron knew of Dan’s potential—he knew it from the start, apparently—and takes full advantage of it. There are beautiful close ups of Dan’s eyes, face and movements—shots that really weren’t present in the first two films. It is as though director, camera and actor are working in sync to tell Harry’s story beyond the dialogue and sets—to delve into Harry’s heart and soul.

Because the film begins with this intention, everything else seems to fall into place. Emma Watson and Rupert Grint are exactly where they should be, as Harry’s best friends, not entities unto themselves. While, of the two, this is definitely Watson’s movie—Hermione’s greatest developments, character wise, are in Prisoner of Azkaban (book and movie), after all—she does not steal the story away from Harry. Rather, her friendship with him is strengthened and redefined to a more mature level. No, she is not the frazzled Hermione that is capable of exploding into fits at Professor Trelawney or Draco Malfoy--but in the long run, the script has maintained the Hermione yet to come, the motherly, still bookish girl who becomes Harry's emotional stability in book number five. Grint's exposition is just as good as Watson’s, though the Ron he’s given remains an incredibly flat, comedic character who really has yet to develop his emotional wings.

Enhancing Radcliffe’s character performance is the stunning cast of secondary characters, some returning, like Robbie Coltrane as the ever loveable Hagrid (who, along with the Knight Bus's Stan Shunpike, is the most perfect example of book-to-movie casting), Maggie Smith as Professor McGonagall, and Alan Rickman (a personal favorite) as the severe Professor Snape. But the new additions bring out the best in him too: David Thewlis as a difficult-to-picture but perfect-to-watch Professor Lupin, Michael Gambon as a Dumbledore finally in possession of the “odd” part of his personality, and Gary Oldman as escaped convict Sirius Black, whose range and depth are breathtaking (remember as you watch him in the end of the story how you reacted to his posters in the beginning).

But while the casting IS superb, it really is the small details of the story that make this movie a step above the rest. What captures your delight, from beginning to end, are the little things that one might not notice the first, second, even third time she sees the film. The boys eating candy in the dormitory. The Whomping Willow shaking snow into the camera lens. Harry’s almost sinister expression from the clock tower as he watches his friends journey into Hogsmeade without him. The beautiful CGI of the Marauders Map. The swell of the music as Harry rides Buckbeak across the lake. Hermione’s pained expression as she pulls the invisibility cloak from a weeping best friend.

There are hundreds of these moments within the movie, all filmed magnificently with a variety of shots: aerials, ceilings, revealing close ups, wide lenses, time lapses. Small attentions to detail that were not present in the first two films. These things aren’t just a new directing style, they’re a new story style: one that finally captures the magic that makes Harry Potter such an enchanting series to read. After all, what would Harry be if it weren’t for the wizarding trading cards, pensieves, Comet broomsticks and S.P.E.W badges that are forever around him, but never outshine him? Their cinematic equivalent lies in the filmmaking choices Cuaron has incorporated into his world--the close-ups, the transitions between important scenes, the haunting musical score--even the high, rolling hills Hogwarts now sits upon, as though the land itself is a metaphor for the depth Cuaron has given the story.

J.K. Rowling’s imagination is immeasurable, and Cuaron is her filmmaking counterpart. He takes her world and fashions it into his own, giving it a darker quality, a more sinister quality, but a magical quality as well that the previous two films, though enjoyable and quite good cinematically, lack.

Of course, as with every movie adaptation, this movie has its faults; most importantly, perhaps, the lack of Ron Weasley. The bits of him you do get are mere comedic relief, and the script really denys him any opportunity to develop in this movie, though Grint certainly tries to move him past the humorous fodder with a few well placed and endearing looks. But Ron's true spirit, his scrappy "I can insult my friends but you can't" personality has been brushed aside (I will certainly not forgive his reply to Snape's "insufferable know-it-all" attack on Hermione--Ron, agreeing with SNAPE? Fie on screenwriter Steven Kloves!) His lack of development is a frightening turn, for book readers in particular, who will have to deal with a slow decline in Ron's dynamicism through stories four and five. Here's hoping director Mike Newell is at least smart enough to incorporate the important fight between Harry and Ron in the next film.

Also, and this might be the book lover in me being picky, but not enough explanation was given some of the more important plot points—the Marauders, for example, and Harry’s Patronus, which is actually a reflection of the animagi form his father took. And there was no Harry/Hermione squabble over the Firebolt, or major Ron/Hermione fallout over Crookshanks and Scabbers--both of which helps to explain exactly why Hermione develops into a stronger, more demanding character. She was left alone, without her friends--which she never is in the film. All simply reasons why the books will forever outshine the movies.

But the movies are only supposed to be the gloss on what is already a fantastic story series, and Alfonso Cuaron respects that fact by ushering in what is hopefully a new look at the saga--an artistic version that takes the core of what she's given, develops it, and molds it into an enjoyable version that doesn't take on the momentous task of competing with her fervent and unequalled imagination. Instead, it develops and enhances what it can tell well. And as the forerunner (hopefully) of this new way of presenting Potter, Prisoner of Azkaban will always be one of my favorites.