A film's disdain for subtlety and beauty

Every time I watch the films that were made out of The Deathly Hallows, I feel a little sick.

Sometimes, I want to take a bath, to wash away the gross and icky feeling the movies leave me with.

Other times, I want to sit down and read J.K.'s original novel from cover to cover immediately, just to remind myself of how great her book is, to remove the disgusting taste that horrible film adaptation left in my mouth.

Even as I watch them, feeling more and more sick, disappointed, resentful, I can recognize that there are actually some pretty good scenes in the films. Some brief moments where David Yates and Stephen Kloves actually got it right and did credit to Rowling's original.

For example, I quite like how the Part 1 opens, with brief shots of Harry at Privet Drive watching the Dursley's pack up and go, of Hermione at her home obliviating her parents and their photos to remove any trace of herself, of Ron, standing pensively with the Burrow in the background, looking out over the fields, thinking of what is to come.

I think they do some of the bigger action scenes quite well: the assault on the Ministry, for example, and the escape from Hogwarts.

Emma Watson has some nice moments, as I've written here before, such as her smirk when the freshly returned Ron "votes" to go to see Mr. Lovegood or when she tosses Harry the sword in the Estrange vault.

I quite love the artful way they render the story of the Three Brothers. It's creative and lovely.

But then I am smacked in the face again with the bigger problems of interpretation that plague these movies, with Kloves' and Yates' apparent disdain for the subtlety and beauty of Rowling's deep psychological and emotional tale.

This disdain comes out in many different ways, in numerous decisions they made as to how to present the story, both large and small.

Among the small ones: did you notice that Harry does not liberate Mad-Eye's magical eye from Umbridge's office door at the Ministry? did it bother you that Harry, Hermione and Ron don't spare a moment's feeling for Mr. Lovegood's fate after he summons the Death Eaters? did it phase you that Harry does not mend his own wand before dealing with the Elder Wand nor make the last visit to Dumbledore's portrait in the headmaster's office nor explain why he chooses to dispose of each of the Deathly Hallows in the way he does?

Does it bother you that, in the film version at least, NO ONE except the small group of fighters within Hogwarts joins the battle against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, not the parents of the students, not the people of Hogsmeade, not the Centaurs, the House Elves nor even Grawp?

Does it not drive you absolutely crazy that, while the Hogwart's fighters die simple human deaths, both Bellatrix and Voldemort evaporate into the ether when they die?

That Rowling's single most basic point -- in the end, we are all human and we all are born, live and die just like everyone else, no matter who we are and how powerful we are during our brief stay on earth -- is completely lost in the film?

Not so fond of Dolores Umbridge

If there's one character in the entire Harry Potter series who really makes me mad, it's Dolores Jane Umbridge. Even more so than Voldemort himself, to be honest. Not only is she an inherently nasty human being but she also seems infinitely adaptable.

First, she's all for Cornelius Fudge, who appoints her to Hogwarts in the first place. Then, when Fudge is ousted, she's right there with Scrimgeour, as if old Cornelius never existed.

When the lion-maned one is killed off by the Death Eaters for refusing to divulge Harry Potter's whereabouts, Umbridge merges seamless into the new regime of Pius Thicknesse which is, after all, merely a cover for the Dark Lord's takeover of the Ministry.

As long as you're in power and just a little bit sadistic, Dolores Umbridge is there with you. At least the Dark Lord is consistent. Umbridge is like an evil chameleon.

The amazing thing is, I've known people just like her. People who seem to be able to float effortlessly from one position to the next, always moving on just before the roof falls in, only to reappear unscathed in a new role, with new bosses, ready to continue their nasty lives.

Yuck.

Harry and friends walk into a trap

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna have just arrived at the Ministry to find that they've walked into a trap. Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange and a host of Death Eaters are waiting for them with wands ready.

After almost 600 pages of pure hell getting through Umbridge at Hogwarts, this fifth book has an amazingly exciting ending. It's only too bad that the film version, for all the wonder of its climactic scene, can't capture the complexity of the emotions, even of the action itself, presented in Rowling's book.

I watch the movies too often and read the books too seldom. Must rectify that mistake.

The Fifth Book's the Hardest

In preparation for the release of the eighth movie this summer, I am re-reading J.K. Rowling's seven novels, in order, from start to finish. It's a ritual I began to follow when I was anxiously awaiting the release of the sixth book several years ago. Each time a new novel or movie was scheduled for release, I'd re-read the entire series to remind myself of the magnificence of J.K.'s art.

I'm now well into the fifth novel, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I have to admit: I always approach this book with a lot of trepidation. I find it the toughest of the seven novels to read, by far.

Why? Because J.K. does such a fantastic job of depicting Harry's isolation and the claustrophobia of his life at Hogwarts during the Umbridge year. I actually find myself getting angry and upset reading this book, both for and at Harry. I have to remind myself over and over again that he's still a kid at this point, that it cannot be easy at all to be going through what he's facing.

I hate and love this book, both at the same time. I hate it because it is such an emotional trial to read. I love it because, well, it takes some fantastic writing to make a reader react so strongly to the story.