By Abby Garnett
By Amy Nicholson
By Alan Scherstuhl
By Inkoo Kang
By Alan Scherstuhl
By Amy Nicholson
By Mood Indigo, reviewed
By Stephanie Zacharek
If you believe in magic, you'll love Harry Potter and the Sorcerer¹s Stone. And if you don't, you will, and you will. True, the hype has been a bit much. And, yes, a mad, desperate world choked with reproduction and reprobation could hardly be expected to resist such a high-concept commercial incantation. Why, even if the overzealous executives at AOL Time Warner had scrawled their ads on weathered cardboard and waved them at passing motorists, we'd still be deafened by this franchise's echoing global ka-ching! Nonetheless, for all the marketing mayhem, it's impossible to dislike this movie, so today is a cynic's holiday.
First of all, children will love Harry Potter. While this is as much a media mandate as a seat-filling shoo-in, the movie's target audience is very well served here, with blithe whimsy to spare balanced by some sinister elements lurking beneath the trap door of a nightmare. For every talking hat or zooming broomstick, there's a gruesome specter or vicious beastie, and they're all good. Since many parents these days seem hell-bent on bowdlerizing their kids' cultural experience -- inadvertently depriving them of the emotional fortification of intelligent storytelling -- it's refreshing to take in an old-fashioned yarn that's wise enough to match its estimable light with edifying shadow.
Meanwhile, most adult viewers may not help but apprehend Harry Potter as part of a gentle juggernaut, a formidable worldwide literary movement, a massive phenomenon the full impact of which remains to be seen. (Sorry, John, but this may be bigger than the Beatles.) Children are celebrating these books all over the place, but young Mr. Potter is also making the rounds of libraries, universities and car stereos on long rides. Mothers are reading Harry to their kids and sharing the books with their mothers. For legions of fans, this cinematic adaptation represents the culmination of countless shared dreams.
Happily, then, the first movie of the Harry Potter series casts a splendid spell, as screenwriter Steve Kloves has transcribed J.K. Rowling's novel nearly to a T, with precious little tweaked or trimmed. Even better, director Chris Columbus (Home Alone, Mrs. Doubtfire) strides beyond his established predilection for syrup and pratfalls, finally challenging himself in the field of awe and beauty. Surely, purist detractors will lodge myriad complaints, but in their two and a half hours, Columbus and editor Richard Francis-Bruce have struck an ideal compromise between practical duration and supernatural atmosphere.
For the remaining three or four residents of Earth who don't yet know the story, the titular Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) is a bespectacled English boy enduring life with his painfully prissy relatives, the Dursleys (Fiona Shaw, Harry Melling and the lovably horrid Richard Griffiths, of Withnail and I). On Harry's eleventh birthday -- much to the family's ire -- he is invited to enroll at the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and shepherded there by a friendly giant named Hagrid (Robbie Coltrane, of Nuns on the Run), who reveals Harry's true identity as a wizard.
During a shopping spree for supernatural school supplies (where he meets John Hurt in a poofy wig, plus Warwick Davis [Willow] and Vern Troyer as goblin bankers), Harry learns about the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Hagrid reveals that an evil wizard named Voldemort killed Harry's true parents (whom the Dursleys told him perished in a car crash) and that Harry, as a baby, narrowly escaped. Soon thereafter, on a northbound steamer called the Hogwarts Express, Harry learns from two new friends, humble Ron (Rupert Grint) and not-so-humble Hermione (Emma Watson), that his wizardly fame precedes him.
What follows is a wonderful yearlong adventure at Hogwarts, wherein Harry's destiny is gradually revealed via various professors and classmates. The ever-transforming Warwick Davis shows up again as Charms instructor Professor Flitwick, and Zoë Wanamaker is the cat-eyed Madame Hooch, who teaches the children to fly on their brooms. There's also quirky Professor Quirrell (Ian Hart), who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the feline Professor McGonagall (a sublime Maggie Smith), who specializes in Transfiguration. At the helm is the venerable Professor Albus Dumbledore (a stately Richard Harris), the most powerful and enlightened wizard.
Rather than turn the palatial Hogwarts into a ghastly new-age colony, Rowling and Columbus have impregnated it with malevolence, with corridors leading to certain death and a forbidden forest filled with sinister creatures. There are also agents of darkness about the grounds, particularly Professor Snape (Alan Rickman). Although allegedly specializing in Potions, the rather dubious Snape is obviously spearheading some clandestine mission, as Harry, Ron and Hermione learn from inopportune sightings and clumsy Hagrid's loose lips. Fun may be had, but danger is afoot.
Among the few complaints is that the story moves too hastily from one glorious setpiece to the next, with intimacy among the characters sometimes playing second fiddle to spectacle. Fortunately, this quibble is minor, and the visuals are indeed stunning. Hogwarts itself is a Gothic marvel, its foreboding exterior housing a miraculous great hall, ever-shifting staircases and the greatest dorm rooms ever designed. The famed Quidditch match (aerial broomstick rugby, sort of) summons memories of Speederbikes and Podraces, and this may be due to Lucasfilm's Industrial Light & Magic being one of eight effects companies contributing to this miraculous endeavor. (It bears noting that Harry Potter is about the value of filmmaking family, in addition to the normal kind.)
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