MY MOVIE SHELF: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 63 Days to go: 43

Movie #377:  Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

I was not aware of anything to do with Harry Potter when Sorcerer’s Stone came out. It was the last winter before I became a parent, and YA literature was nowhere near my radar. I was also working full-time and had gone back to school to finish my degree. When I went to the movies around that time, it was not to see what I assumed were kids’ movies. It reached my notice, of course, that Sorcerer’s Stone was incredibly successful, but I still never saw it until the following fall, when it happened to come on HBO and I decided to give it a shot. To my utmost surprise, I really loved it.

The movie is perhaps overlong, but it serves both fans of the books and newcomers equally well. As a newcomer myself that first time, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone provided ample introduction into the world of magic — and Hogwarts, especially. Part of this is a function of the story, as Harry himself (Daniel Radcliffe) was raised in the non-magic world, so he’s learning the ropes just as the audience is. For people who came in having read the book already, however (and I eventually read the whole series), one of the greatest gifts the movie brings to the table is the cast. The casting choices on this film — which would, in a lot of cases, have to serve the entire rest of the series — were so meticulously and carefully considered, it’s like Rowling’s very words have come to life. This is true, of course, in major characters, but also in minor ones. Everyone knows how Radcliffe, Ruper Grint (as Ron) and Emma Watson (as Hermione) embodied a lot of their character’s same personality traits in their actual lives, but consider a secondary player like Neville (Matthew Lewis), who needed to be sort of dumpy and bumbling at 12, but had to grow into confident and brave at 18. (We will definitely talk about that more in the coming days.) Or Tom Felton as Draco Malfoy? For every perfectly executed eye-roll by Hermione, there’s a haughty sniff from Draco that lets you know exactly who he is. Snape (Alan Rickman) sneers just like he did in your head, and who but Maggie Smith could be as strict but also as warm as Minerva McGonagall? Robbie Coltrane towers and lumbers and also warms the heart as Hagrid, and Richard Harris is a playful, mischievous, wise and understanding Dumbledore. Every one of the Weasleys (and there are so many) and every one of the Dursleys is equally, perfectly cast. All the magical special effects in the world could hardly make the film a richer experience than that impeccable cast does.

Watching the film now, of course, is like revisiting old baby pictures, as all the children were so much younger and smaller then than they are now. And to be honest, it’s more nostalgia that I watch it with now than focus on the story. I don’t think anyone could’ve predicted back in 2001 what a successful franchise the Harry Potter films would become — not just in box office, but in execution. (Indeed, I submit that they’re so financially successful in large part because they were executed so flawlessly.) But that success started here, with this film, and even if it’s the clunkiest and most expositional of them all (in part, necessarily so), none of the other films could’ve become what they did without it. In that respect, it’s truly a marvel what Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone accomplished.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Unforgiven

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 91 Days to go: 61

Movie #349:  Unforgiven

Unforgiven won the 1992 Academy Award for Best Picture (among others) and I have been avoiding seeing it for all that time. Generally I like to see all the Best Picture nominees, but in this case I just happen to know that when it comes to Clint Eastwood, AMPAS and I simply do not see eye-to-eye.

The movie opens with some text, apropos of nothing, about a woman who married a no-good villain named William Munny (who we’ll find out later is played by Eastwood), but to the surprise of her mother, died of smallpox in 1878, instead of at the hands of her evil husband. A while later we meet up with old Munny on his pig farm. He’s raising his two children by himself, he misses his dear departed wife, and he’s not a great farmer. A kid shows up (Jaimz Woolvett), calling himself The Schofield Kid, after his preferred weapon. Despite Munny having forsaken his old ways, The Kid knows him by reputation through family, and offers him a partner opportunity to kill a couple of cowboys who cut up a prostitute in Big Whiskey, Wyoming. There’s a reward, see, being offered by the assaulted woman and her friends — led by Strawberry Alice (Frances Fisher) — of $1000 to anyone who kills the cowboys.

Before any of that happens, though, we see the assault on the woman and we see the refusal of Sheriff Little Bill (Gene Hackman) to mete out any real punishment on the cowboys. Instead of hanging them as the women insist, he intends to whip them, but winds up only “fining” them a few ponies, paid to the owner of the brothel instead of the victim. It is at this injustice that the women decide to come up with the promise of a reward. Little Bill finds out about their offer, though, and proceeds to tell people far and wide not to seek retribution on the cowboys. He publicly beats a notorious assassin named English Bob (Richard Harris) who has come to seek the bounty as a message to other criminals, and he wins the admiration of English Bob’s biographer (Saul Rubinek), who then decides to write about Little Bill’s exploits instead.

When the two narrative threads finally come together, Little Bill tries to make an example of Munny as well, but Munny gets away (along with the kid and Munny’s longtime friend and partner Ned Logan, played by Morgan Freeman). The trio track down one of the cowboys, but find that killing him isn’t as easy as they thought. Ned bows out and tries to head home, while Munny and the Kid seek out the second cowboy. However, Ned gets caught by Little Bill’s posse and winds up beaten and tortured for information before his body gives out and he dies. When Munny finds out about Ned’s fate, he has the Kid (who’s sworn off gunfighting after being sick over killing the cowboy) return the reward to Munny’s farm, while Munny goes to seek revenge on Little Bill. He does, and it’s all very macho and badass, and the biographer is probably going to write about Munny now, and that’s it.

Except there’s also an epilogue, also apropos of nothing, about how Munny’s mother-in-law came to see her daughter’s grave once after Munny and the kids moved to San Francisco, and she still couldn’t figure out why her angelic daughter would marry such a miscreant. The end.

The movie seems to be about unrealized expectations, about nothing really living up to its reputation — be it revenge or notoriety or even how badly injured the prostitute was in the first place — and honestly, that’s exactly the experience I had in watching it. Or it would’ve been, if I hadn’t gone into the thing knowing I find Clint Eastwood’s particular brand of squinty gruffness tiresome, at best. If you dig him (and the Academy obviously — OBVIOUSLY — does), and if you dig Westerns, then the movie probably satisfies. I don’t, so I’ll just have to go about my life content with that fact. Me and Clint Eastwood don’t mix. It’s just one of those things.

 

MY MOVIE SHELF: The Count of Monte Cristo

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 298  Days to go: 288

Movie #75: The Count of Monte Cristo

The Count of Monte Cristo isn’t a perfect movie any more than it’s a perfect adaptation of the original novel by Alexandre Dumas. What I really like about it, though, is that it’s a thrilling movie. Even a thin novel can be difficult to adapt it its entirety into a film (look at The Hobbit), and The Count of Monte Cristo is not a thin novel, so it’s impressive how efficient and streamlined the adaptation is to introduce the primary players and sufficiently characterize them all, take us through the betrayal of Edmond Dantes (Jim Caviezel), the years at and subsequent escape from the horrid Chateau d’If, and the full extent of Edmond’s revenge all in just over two hours. The emotional weight of the novel is retained without losing any sense of urgency or suspense.

The movie is exciting from start to finish, from the intriguing meet with Napoleon on Elba to the final showdown against Fernand (Guy Pearce), and while many people might say the crazy escape from prison is their favorite part, mine is actually all the time spent with the priest (Richard Harris) studying science, economics and languages while also learning the sword and other forms of combat. It’s not quite a montage, because there are exchanges and little bits of dialogue as we move from each mini-scene to another, but it’s a great way to show the passage of time, the progress on the tunnel, and also the education of Edmond. When he escapes, it makes sense how hardened, but also how intelligent and cunning he now is.

In true movie fashion, Edmond ends up with Mercedes (Dagmara Dominczyk) and their son Albert (baby Henry Cavill, before he really grew into his Man of Steel looks) because if a woman has loved a man her whole life, he have to end up with her and her son must really be his son as well because she would never have a son with someone else. That is the movie way. And it works here because the characters are so strongly written. Mercedes is heartbroken and desperate all of her years after Edmond’s supposed death, but because of the baby she of course married Fernand. Fernand is cocky, self-righteous and rude, sneering down at everyone he considers beneath him, especially Edmond. And Edmond is a naive and earnest young man who grows into a hardened cynical man, but who, when faced with the love of Mercedes and their child, begs to be given the chance to start over with them. Just as in the book, he learns to never give up hope.

While I’m not a vengeful person by nature (I’m far too lazy to hold a grudge that long), I do understand the impulse when faced with grave injustice and betrayal. So I really like that in this movie Edmond betters himself and exposes his enemies for the cowardly villains they are, but that when faced with a future of hope and love, he takes those instead. It’s the fantasy of getting to show up everyone who picked on you or somehow wronged you as a kid without losing the idea that you’re a good and moral person. It might not be entirely realistic, but it’s a popular fantasy all the same.