Yates finally explains why he didn't trust Rowling's ending

It was quite stunning, really. 

 I have wondered for several years what could possibly have possessed screenwriter Steve Kloves and director David Yates when they decided to change J.K. Rowling's practically perfect ending to The Deathly Hallows.

David Yates: Praying for inspiration

Now, after watching the recent Harry Potter 20^th Anniversary: Return to Hogwarts special, I finally have my answer.

And it only makes me more incensed.

 

As you will recall, Rowling ends the Battle of Hogwarts in epic seventh novel with Harry and Voldemort, circling, circling, while the crowds of Hogwarts defenders and Deatheaters look on, mesmerised.

 

Molly Weasley had finally defeated Bellatrix Lestrange, the wizarding world has risen up to vanquish the Dark Forces and all that remains is for Harry to fulfill his destiny and bring down the Dark Lord once and for all.

It's a wonderfully tense and emotional scene. Harry distracts Voldemort from casting the final curse by telling him of Dumbledore's plans, both those that worked perfectly and those that didn't quite work out the way the Headmaster had intended. And then, as the sun breaks over the horizon, the two wizards cast their best spells and Voldemort, his own killing curse rebounding on him and the Elder Wand declaring its allegiance to Harry, its rightful owner, falls down dead.

Human. Finally and fully human.

All of the themes Rowling had been weaving so carefully through the books come to a point in this final scene, this final moment.

Perfect.

But not good enough for Kloves and Yates. Or, as it turns out, for Yates alone.

In the recent retrospective special, the director takes full credit (or blame, to be honest) for the ultimate filmic insult to Rowling's amazing work.

David Yates says this of the final battle between Harry and Voldemort:

Yates, fumbling the ending

When looking at the book, the final confrontation between Voldemort and Harry takes place in the Great Hall with a huge audience watching. And I really wanted something earthier and more intense and more visceral than that. Because these two adversaries were almost joined spiritually if you like in this strange Horcruxy way. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful if Dan just grabbed Raif and pulled him off this tower?

 

As they apparate, they are merged together. That deep connection that we had sort of threaded through the stories and the films you’d visualise in that moment before they tumbled into the courtyard.

 

As well as the physical challenge of making the films, there was that small pressure of thinking: you’re the one who is going to finish this. It has to go out on a high. It has to be meaningful. It has to resonate. It has to deliver.

The problem, Mr. Yates, is that the final battle as written by J.K. Rowling was meaningful, it resonates, it delivers. You should have trusted her. You should have recognised the poet and simply followed the plan she so masterfully set out for you.

In making the ridiculous changes you made, you took the soul out of the ending. You made that final confrontation mano a mano, a macho combat between two individuals rather than the final, almost anti-climactic moment where the common good, the collective society won out and the great monster that had enthralled and terrorised the world for so long was revealed as nothing more than a human being, around much had been built.

Harry didn't defeat Voldemort by himself -- he, Hermione and Ron hunted down the Horcruxes and one by one destroyed them, bringing Voldemort step by step closer to his end; Neville played a role, killing the snake, as did Hagrid, and McGonagall, and Kingsley, the House Elves, the Centaurs, the Weasleys, the families of the Hogwartians, the people of Hogsmeade and so many others.

Mr. Yates, you failed to understand what Rowling had built, so poetically, so artfully, over the course of the seven novels and, in making the final battle between Voldemort and Harry an epic battle, filled with flashes and explosions, fought in front of no one, you proved yourself an exceptional technician but no artist.

 

And you did a disservice to the stories were you entrusted to bring to the screen.

On children's stories and house elves

I know. It's been a long time since I posted a new entry to this blog, hasn't it? Don't worry, though: it's not because I've abandoned Harry Potter. Not in the least. In fact, I'm currently luxuriating in the wonder that is The Goblet of Fire, enjoying every word of it.

But more on that below. The really exciting news is that I am about to release my own book for young people. Yes indeed! No, I'm not going to claim it's on the same level as J.K.'s books, don't worry. But I am very proud of the writing and of the work my sister has done to design and layout the book, as well as provide original illustrations for it.

The book is the first in a series of three planned volumes of short stories entitled Abigail Massey at McAdam Station. They will be self-published through an online printer (Blurb.ca) and available for sale through any outlet we can find, mostly in my home province of New Brunswick in Canada.

The books are a fund raiser to support the restoration and preservation of the beautiful and historic Railway Station and Hotel in McAdam, New Brunswick. This tiny village of 1,300 people is working hard to restore this national architectural treasure, even though the cost of restoration has been pegged as high as $10-million. As the press release I've drafted for the release of the book says, "How does a village of 1,300 raise more than $10-million to preserve a historic building for the benefit of 30-million Canadians? It gets creative."

The stories are set in 1941, when the McAdam Railway Station was the gateway to the East Coast for Canada's war effort. They feature a group of teenage girls, led by Abigail Massey herself, who live and work at the Station, I've tried for a Nancy-Drew-like feel to the writing so they're very innocent but also, I hope, quite exciting. Several of the stories involve events or personalities drawn from the history of the Station, including the Canadian Prime Minister of the time and famed skater Barbara Ann Scott.

If you want more information, please visit the project website at www.abigailmassey.ca.

OK, enough with the advertisement. On with the Potter discussion. Let's talk a minute about Hermione's efforts to emancipate the House Elves: S.P.E.W.

I'm interested in this project for a number of reasons, most importantly because it raises the discussion of slavery and self-determination. Are the House Elves enslaved, as Hermione seems to suggest? Is it appropriate for her to attempt to force them into a more "emancipated" state?

Is the decision to remain enslaved an acceptable decision?

What is J.K. trying to say with this whole subplot?

The way I'm reading it, the House Elves are in fact enslaved (they cannot decide of their own volition to leave their masters) and, as a result, they can be treated quite brutally. But, even when they are given the choice (as Dobby and Winky are), they appear to wish to choose to remain in their enslaved position rather than be free.

Should not that decision be respected? Is Hermione not wrong to try to convince them to be unhappy with their lot?

It's an interesting question.

On one side, we could argue that, even though the House Elves themselves appear to argue in favour of their own continued enslavement, to claim that they like it, they wish it, it's in their natures to be enslaved, their decision is in fact coerced both by their own history (they have never known what it is like to be free and therefore fear it; their parents and grandparents always served a master so it appears to be the natural, appropriate state for them) and their legitimate fear (as proven by Dobby's own experience when he attempted to find paying employment) that they will be rejected by society if they don't continue their enslavement.

On the other side, we could find numerous examples in our own society where individuals (or even groups of individuals) subsume their own personal needs and personal fulfillment (at least as most of society would define those terms) to the needs of another person, group or cause in an almost slave-like manner. Does the fact that one receives wages and some time off really make that much of a difference for a person in a low paying job who absolutely has to keep the job to feed herself and her family? Is that kind of a situation that far from slavery?

Does that person really have a choice? Can she really, honestly choose to quit her job, if the town or city where she lives has high unemployment and no open positions?

I know... deep deep subjects. My problem is, I'm not sure I agree with Hermione in this case. I think she completely misreads the situation and projects her own "stuff" (the social and cultural beliefs that she's learned from her middle class Muggle parents) onto a race of beings she doesn't seem to wish to take the time to understand. Or even listen to.

In attempting to fight for their right to self-determination, Hermione herself makes the massive error of thinking she has the right to speak for the House Elves, to determine what is best for them without taking into consideration their opinions on the issues.

In fighting for their rights, she seems to me to be trampling them herself.

Jedusor explained and questions on House Elf magic

First, if you haven't read the excellent comment just posted on my blog entry, "Tom Jedusor, give me a break" (posted August 31, 2011), please go back and read it. It's chalk full of really helpful information on the French translation of Voldemort's original name. Thanks so much, Ananse, for sharing this with us.

Second, I've been thinking a little bit about House Elf magic. I'm starting to read The Chamber of Secrets again, the book which introduces not only Dobby, our favourite house Elf, but also House Elves in general. Harry has certainly never heard of them before Dobby appears in his bedroom and, as this novel progresses, we learn more and more about them. Our understanding of House Elves is even further developed in later novels, culminating in Dobby's death and Kreacher's emergence as an ally in Book Seven.

We learn in The Chamber of Secrets that House Elves have a set of magical capabilities that are very powerful and greatly different from those of wizards and witches. In later books, we learn that House Elves, for example, can apparate in and out of Hogwarts, something no wand carrier can do. Further, we see that Kreacher is capable of escaping the Inferi in the lake in Voldemort's cave, an eventuality not even the Dark Lord himself had anticipated.

And Dobby holds his own in a battle against such powerful witches and wizards as Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy and Draco himself.

So my question at this point is this. As fascinating and different as the magic of House Elves seems to be, how is it that the Ministry of Magic mistakes Dobby's hover charm in the Dursley kitchen for an act of magic performed by Harry. As you will recall, Harry receives a letter of warning from the Ministry for performing an illegal charm outside of school.

We learn later, of course, that the Ministry's ability to sense illegal magical acts performed by underage students is quite limited, that a child can probably get away with performing magic outside of school if he is surrounded by adult witches and wizards at the time he casts his spell because the Ministry will naturally assume that one of the adults cast the spell.

So, when a hover charm is used in the Dursley kitchen, and the only wand carrier in the vicinity is an underage wizard, the Ministry assumes that the magic was performed by that underage wizard.

I get all that. But wouldn't House Elf magic be different enough for the Ministry to recognise that no wizard could have performed that particular charm? Or are there some spells and charms that are shared by both races such that they are indistinguishable to the Ministry?

Here's what I'm getting at: Dobby must have performed at least one other act of magic to get into Harry's bedroom in the first place (an apparition, perhaps) but the Ministry doesn't notice or address that. The hover charm, however, is noticed by the Ministry and attributed to Harry. How did they miss Dobby's apparition?

In order for this all to make sense, I guess, the following must be true:
1. House Elves enjoy completely different magical powers than do wand carriers, such that the Ministry does not track them;
2. Despite that, however, House Elves and wand carriers do share some spells and charms and, when such spells and charms are performed by a House Elf, the Ministry is unable to tell that an Elf, not a wand carrier, performed that bit of magic;
3. Either apparition is not a trackable magical act under normal circumstances (though the Ministry proves later that it can control the use of apparition as a means of travel) or, more likely, the form of apparition performed by House Elves is fundamentally different from a wand carrier's apparition.

What do you think? And, if all of this is true, how do you explain the fact that, in Book Seven, Kreacher leads the House Elves out of the Hogwarts kitchens to fight the Death Eaters with knives, rather than employing their own very powerful form of magic against the evil doers?

Nagging thoughts and Free Elves

Two things:

First, in re-reading The Philospher's Stone this weekend, I came across a funny bit of dialogue between Ron and Hermione that gains some resonance when we know they're bound to get married. When Hermione reminds Ron how to cast the Leg Locker spell ("Locomotor Mortis") prior to Harry's second Quidditch match, Ron says to her: "I know... Don't nag." Hmmmmm... a taste of things to come for Ron?

Second, after making a reasoned argument in my last post about why the hero trio can't call on Dobby to help them more often in The Deathly Hallows (he's a Free Elf so they can't simply summon him; he's able to come to them only once he's heard from Aberforth where Harry is and that he needs help), I watched the film version of Part 1 on TV. In the movie, Harry simply pulls out Sirius' mirror, sees Aberforth's eye and says, "Help us." Then Dobby appears.

In the movie world, Dobby apparently can apparate to Harry even when he does not know where Harry is. So why doesn't he do it sooner?

Every time I turn around, I find another piece of evidence that the magical world of the books is very different from the magical world of the films. Different rules apply in each and they are not consistent. Too bad.

Solving the House Elf mystery

A couple of days ago, I posted some thoughts on House Elves. In particular, I wondered why our hero trio didn't summon Kreacher or perhaps Dobby while they were on the run in The Deathly Hallows.

Special thanks to reader WilliamBurr who pointed me in the right direction for the answer and confirmed my own thought that, somewhere in the book, J.K. had given explanation for their failure to use the House Elves to help them more.

WB has helped me locate a useful passage in Chapter 15 ("The Thief") of the seventh book. Harry, Hermione and Ron have just escaped the Ministry with the locket but, in getting rid of Yaxley, they've been forced to abandon Grimmauld Place and flee to the wilderness. In the process, Ron has gotten splinched.

J.K. writes: Harry "and Hermione had already decided against trying to summon [Kreacher]; what if someone from the Ministry came too? They could not count on elfish Apparition being free from the same flaw that had taken Yaxley to Grimmauld Place on the hem of Hermione's sleeve."

A helpful passage, to be sure, and yet more proof that Rowling really thought things through and covered all her bases when she planned and wrote these books. But is it a complete answer to my question?

I think it answers the question with regard to Kreacher for certain. They didn't summon him because to do so would risk bringing trouble directly to them. But what about Dobby? He was safe in Hogwarts' kitchen. Surely he was safe.

Here's my answer to that question: they couldn't summon Dobby because Dobby is a free Elf. Harry doesn't own him so he can't summon him.

The connection between House Elf and Master is such that it makes summoning possible: the Master simply says the name of the Elf and the Elf then apparates directly to the Master, no matter where he or she is and even if the Elf doesn't know where the Master is.

We see this happen at the start of Book Six when Dumbledore decides to find out if ownership of Grimmauld Place has truly passed to Harry by telling Harry to summon Kreacher. Harry says Kreacher's name and Kreacher appears, apparently against his own will.

So, for Harry to call Dobby, he would have to have some way to communicate with him directly and to tell Dobby where Harry is. When Harry, trapped in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, sees Aberforth's blue eye in Sirius' mirror, Harry tells Aberforth that he's in the cellar at Malfoy Manor. Aberforth communicates this information to Dobby and Dobby then apparates to Harry.

I think, based on this reasoning, that we have a complete answer to my question. Harry and Hermione decide it's too risky to summon Kreacher and they can't summon Dobby because Harry doesn't own him. It's only when Harry can communicate (through Aberforth) to Dobby his own location that Dobby can come to help him.

Cool. I like resolving mysteries. And thanks WB!

Thinking about House Elves

I've been thinking about house elves lately, for some crazy reason. If my memory serves, we've met four of them directly in the Harry Potter novels: Dobby, Winky, Kreacher and Hokey (the House Elf owned by Hepzibah Smith, the woman who introduced Tom Riddle to Hufflepuff's Cup). We met several others in the kitchens of Hogwarts when Harry, Ron and Hermione went down to visit to see Dobby but they play little or no part in the stories.

And we've seen some of their powers:
1. they have magical powers that they can use without a wand;
2. those magical powers include the ability to apparate, even in places where witches and wizards cannot (such as Hogwarts, Voldermort's cave, and Malfoy Manor);
3. when they apparate, they can take a number of other people with them;
4. they are able to disarm witches and wizards at short distances;
5. they can hear their masters calling to them no matter where they are and immediately go to their masters;
6. they appear to be good at tracking people and are remarkably strong for their size.

Although it has never been directly discussed, I believe, however, that the magical powers of the House Elf are limited in many ways. They certainly have never been able to escape the servitude to wand carriers in which they have been placed. Although they seem to be able to combat wand carriers fairly effectively in brief encounters, it does not appear that they could openly revolt against them. They do not carry wands and do not appear to have made any attempt to expand their powers to include wand use or to rival the powers of the wand carriers.

Okay so far, right? So my question is this: if a House Elf's powers are limited but still very useful (note, Harry has Kreacher track down Mundungus, Regulus Black uses Kreacher to help steal the locket from Voldemort's cave, the hero trio certainly do owe their lives to Dobby, who saved them from Malfoy Manor), why does Harry not make more use of Dobby and Kreacher in Book Seven?

I will have to research the question because I think Harry makes some mention of the possibility of using the House Elves somewhere in the middle of The Deathly Hallows but I'm not sure. I would think, however, that they could at least have solved their hunger problems by having Dobby bring them food every day from Hogwarts.

I must be missing something.

What does Rowling really think of the plight of house elves?

It's interesting to meet Dobby once again, for the very first time. I'm reading The Chamber of Secrets, this time in French, and I'm finding it really fascinating to have this little house elf introduced to me at this point, when I already know so much about his future fate.

I can't say I ever liked Dobby. I found him irritating in the books and even more so in the films but he does play a more and more important role as the series goes on. I'm also not sure how J.K. really feels about him: certainly she gives him a hero's role and a hero's death but she also pulls no punches in showing that the rest of the house-elf community sees him as an embarrassment, an elf without shame, so to speak.

His relationship with Winky is also interesting. While both have been freed from their service, Winky responds to this emancipation with shame and humiliation. She worries about her former master and would no doubt accept her enslavement back were it to be offered to her.

Is Rowling sympathetic to Winky? Does she believe that house elves have the right to choose to be enslaved (if that makes any sense)? Would she support Hermione's campaign for house-elf rights, even when the house elves Rowling herself created seem to reject it?

When I think about questions like that, I can't help but go back to the scene where Dobby, having accepted a paid position in the kitchens of Hogwarts, brags about how he argued Dumbledore down to a lower salary and fewer holidays.

To me, the house-elf issue is one of the more interesting philosophical questions that emerge from the novels: is the plight of house elves truly enslavement, such that all right thinking witches and wizards should oppose it, or does it represent a happily symbiotic relationship between the elves and their masters, where both benefit? And what does J.K. have to say about all that?

The film sacrifices depth of meaning for cheap thrills

My first major issue with Part 2 is this: whereas J.K. was very careful to make sure that it was absolutely clear that most of the wizarding community was against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, the filmmakers took great pains to make us believe that it was only Harry, Hermione and Ron plus a small group of others who opposed the Dark Lord in the end.

In fact, in the novel, Harry's final duel with Voldemort occurs only after the Centaurs, House Elves and hundreds of witches and wizards from outside Hogwarts had arrived to turn the tide of the battle decisively against Voldemort's followers. The Death Eaters were losing badly when Molly Weasley killed Bellatrix Lestrange and Harry finally revealed that he was alive and ready to take on Voldemort personally.

And I think that this was a central theme throughout the novels and especially in the final two books: this was not just Harry's fight. The majority of witches and wizards opposed the Death Eaters but were forced by fear and intimidation to keep quiet. Once open warfare was declared, they came forward to join the fight.

It was important that Harry duel Voldemort on his own, true. That was his fight. But the rest of the magical world was right there with him and, in fact, had already won the battle before Voldemort finally died.

Filmmakers Stephen Kloves and David Yates clearly made a decision that the ending would be much more dramatic if the odds were stacked heavily against our heroes, right to the very end. So the film has no assault by the Centaurs, no rampage by hundreds of wand-carriers from Hogsmeade and beyond, no joyous entrance of House Elves, led by Kreacher, joining the fray.

It was just Harry, Hermione and Ron, plus a small group of students and staff from the school and an even smaller group of members of the Order of the Phoenix, taking on the massive army Voldemort had at his command.

Dramatic, sure. And the filmmakers did gesture toward a weakening of Voldemort's support by having a number of Death Eaters disapparate when Harry re-appeared, alive and well, outside the school.

But, in my opinion, the movie undermined one of the main and most important themes J.K. incorporated so carefully into her novels: that in the battle against evil, we are never alone.

They sacrificed a deep and meaningful message for cheap thrills. Not worth it, I say. Not worth it at all.

Ten days to go and ten things I like about The Deathly Hallows

Just ten more days to wait. And here is a list of ten small things I particularly like about J.K. Rowling's final novel:

1. I like the fact that Hedwig dies in an early scene, not because I have it in for the lovely owl but because her meaningless death sent a shiver through me when I first read the book as I understood fully that J.K. wasn't going to pull any punches in her final epic;
2. I like the fact that Harry, Hermione and Ron take off on their own for most of the book, giving us a chance to get to know them better, both individually and as a trio of courageous friends;
3. I like the fact that Neville keeps fighting at Hogwarts, at first with Ginny and Luna, and then after they are forced to leave;
4. I like the reception the trio gets when they enter the Room of Requirement near the end;
5. I like that Ron takes a bow when all of their classmates cheer them for escaping Gringott's on a dragon;
6. I like the fact that all of the other students refuse to let Harry keep them out of the fight;
7. I like J.K.'s description of the "Snape-shaped hole" in the window after Severus flees and the fact that she has McGonagall tell the school that Snape has "done a bunk";
8. I like how J.K. manages to make Voldemort's inability to recognise the value in others (like House Elves, for example) work against him in the end;
9. I like the redemption of Kreacher; and
10. I like the fact that J.K. slows the pace down and really makes us live Harry's experience of walking into the Forbidden Forest to die.