Enola Holmes 3 (2026)

 "There are two paths you can take, Enola. Yours, or the path others choose for you."

This sequel, with the same ensemble cast and the same writer in oft-rumoured future Doctor Who showrunner Jack Thorne, is exactly what we might expect, from the rollicking adventure to the nicely plotted mystery to the in media res beginning. This is, of course, no bad thing. This film is bloody good, giving us exactly what we expect and exactly what we want as far as the characters are concerned, with a satisfying whodunit to provide the mystery.

Yes, the film is full of anachronistic social attitudes to things like colonialism, gender roles, marriage and social class, especially with regards to a happy ending that could never fly in the actual 1880s. But this, again, is no bad thing. There are films where one can legitimately be demanding in terms of historical accuracy, yes indeed. This is not one of them. A family friendly romp should not concern itself with (SPOILERS!) the impossibility of a peer disclaiming his peerage eighty years before Tony Benn, or the even greater impossibility of the concluding ceremony being accepted as any kind of marriage at the time. Such things do not matter- a modern audience, with modern (and much more enlightened) values, must be entertained.

This film is, quite simply, fun. The cast is magnificent, the feminine contingent especially. Sharon Duncan-Brewster is extraordinary as a Moriarty with a surprising amount of depth. Helena Bonham Carter is, well, Helena Bonham Carter. And Millie Bobby Brown, with her charisma and her delicious fourth wall moments, carries the whole thing. Little Miss Llamastrangler (who called the film "peak") give this film our thorough endorsement.

Enola Holmes 2 (2022)

 "You really are a nincompoop!"

It's been a while, but I've finally got round to seeing the sequel, in large part due to the pleasure of some truly exquisite company last night! And not only was it a thoroughly enjoyable experience, but I noticed in the credits that the writer was one Jack Thorne, whose distinguished career has included Adolescence among other things (must get round to that!) and who is, rather interestingly, rumoured as a possible new showrunner for Doctor Who... but we'll see.

The script is superb, working perfectly both as a murder mystery with twists and turns which all makes perfec sense at the end but also as a fun, watchable drama with a light touch, lots of fun and lots of wit. It's also, as last night's exquisite company remarked last night, based on the match girls' strike, a very real historical event, and the scandal with white phosphorus was a very real thing.

But Millie Bobby Brown yet again carries the whole thing with aplomb, a truly talented leading lady despite her youth, carrying the whole thing with wit, charisma and those delightfully quirky asides to the camera. To say that she carries the whole thing means a lot given the cast we have here- Henry Cavill as Sherlock Holmes and Helena Bonham Carter as their mother Eudoxia, in particular. I love the little Sherlockian moments, and it's clear from fairly early on that the film will end with Holmes meeting Watson.

In the end, then, a splendid film. A pedant may observe that the film is set in 1885, too late for Holmes meeting Watson and too early for the match girls' strike (Sarah Chapman is a historical figure), but I'm learning to be better with my pedantry. A hugely enjoyable film.

Enola Holmes (2020)

 “

This is, incredibly, the first and only film I’ve seen and blogged from the current decade. I suppose this isn’t really much of a surprise, with relatively few films being released in 2020. The times we’re living in remind me of the time of Shakespeare where plague closed the playhouses.

I enjoyed this little Netflix film, though. It’s an adaptation of a series of “Young Adult” novels by Nancy Springer, and it’s a revelation. Clever, fun, fourth wall-breaking to the point of our eponymous heroine frequently addressing the audience, this is a rather marvellous little film.

It helps that Millie Bobby Brown is such a charismatic and compelling lead- there's clearly a lot more to her than Eleven. Helena Bonham Cater s, inevitably, delightfully barmy. Henry Cavill is a bit wooden but you can't have everything, and it's good to see Burn Gorman as a solid baddie.

The conceit is bloody good; Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes have a much younger sister who is being raised in a solidly feminist way by their wonderfully radical mother- and there's a nice underlying subtext of electoral reform, including votes for women. The real-life Representation of the People Act of 1884 plays a big role in the plot. It's a shame Mycroft has to be retconned as the less clever sibling, and actively reactionary to boot, but you can see why this is necessary.

This is a yoyful, wonderful, metataxtual film which has much fun with the fourth wall, is enormously funy and has some rollicking adventure to boot. Superb stuff.

The Crown: Season 4, Episode 7- The Hereditary Principle

 "Idiocy and imbecility..."

Another strong episode here, and the first Margaret episode for ages (will there be many more?) as she hits her mid-life crisis with the realisation that her life has been unhappy and there isn't much time left to put things right, certainly not if the lung operation she's just had is an indicator.

There is, of course, a wider theme here of mental health and stigma, as Margaret discovers a family secret in the treatment of some insttutionalised members of the Queen Mum's family- and the first scenes of Katherine and Nerissa give us some juxtapositions characteristic of The Crown as they watch the Royal Variety Performance on telly (is this the one where Tommy Cooper died?) in their institution, and Katherine's birthday is contrasted with that of Prince Edward.

We hear the reasoning, and the voice of a royal generation, from the Queen Mum; when the Abdication propelled the Bowes-Lyons from minor Scottish aristocrats to toyalty by marriage, those within the family seen as suggesting a bloodline that as not "pure" needed to be hidden away. It was, as Margaret says, cruel, inhuman and reprehensible. Genetically, it seems, the royal family cannot have inherited the gene- but that has no bearing on the matter. If the hereditary principle depends on this sort of thing, the hereditary principle must go.

But the episode is also about Margaret, doomed to a life of heartache, emptiness and self-conscious usefulness, where potential lovers turn out to be "friends of Dorothy" and she feels threatened by Diana. I'm not sure she needs the Queen to give her purpose- she's rich and famous; there are plenty of things she could do to make the world a better place. But she is a paradox- a terrible snob who rails against her position as a "spare" whose proximity to the crown grows further apart with each royal birth and, as Gore Vidal said, far too intelligent for her station. And yet, especially as played by Helena Bonham Carter, she's a perversely likeable bitch. 

The Crown: Season 4, Episode 6- Terra Nullius

 “Some countries are too important to send out the understudy...”

This is another clever episode, examining the serious fault lines in Charles and Di’s marriage, and making it clear how appallingly Diana was treated, against a series of breathtaking Australian locations. Yet it’s also the episode that makes it clear, I think, that while we can’t assume Peter Morgan is a republican it’s clear he is unsentimental about that peculiar institution. 

The press are, as I write, full of royalists moaning about The Crown making bits up, and this is an episode where such concerns will loom large.  I’ve addressed this before so let me simply make the point that this is drama, not documentary. That it is fictionalised is implicit in the format, and that should be obvious.

That facts, and memory, are unreliable is even lampshades early on as Elizabeth and Philip describe their 1954 tour of Australia in very different terms to what we saw on screen two seasons ago, claiming that it brought them together. But memory is not all that separates the generations. Elizabeth and Philip thought nothing of leaving their children in the UK for four months; Diana has quite sanely insisted on taking baby William. Yet she’s still expected to leave him alone for two weeks at the start of the tour, something that only she seems to realise would be utterly insane.

And that’s the thing; the royals are not just “tough”, as the Queen mentions at the family conference at the end just after her shocking failure to provide any support or understanding to a desperate Diana: they are a symptom of an elite culture that raises children to be emotionally stunted, damaged individuals. 

Charles, on one level, is the villain here- he shows no chemistry or real affection for his wife, yet he rings Camilla every day. Yet he himself is a victim of his upbringing, and did not meaningfully consent to the marriage any more than Diana.

We are left to ruminate on the irony of man-child Charles and arch-republican Bob Hawke connecting over the fact that both of them, for very different reasons, have their purposes thwarted by Diana. Yet all three of them can be seen as victims of what is, I think, very much presented as a toxic institution.

The Crown: Season 4, Episode 4- Favourites

 "Our children are lost..."

Hmm. There’s a lot to admire about this episode and much that is interesting- not least our first glimpses of how they’re going with the characterisation Princes Andrew and Edward. But I think, structurally and thematically, it’s a bit of a misfire and doesn’t really work overall, despite some impressive character scenes.

This series is, of course, drama and not documentary, and therefore entitled to balance factual accuracy with dramatic licence, as we’ve often discussed. It’s not unusual, in The Crown, for the chronology of events to be altered a bit so that events coincide where this was not the case in reality, generally as a way of making a character point. This is generally fine. But, in this episode, it’s so obviously done that you can see the joins.

There are three separate threads to this episode- the Queen realising she doesn’t know her four children as well as she probably should; the useless Mark Thatcher getting lost in the Sahara; and the early stages of the Falklands crisis.

Still, the relationship between Elizabeth and Philip is dealt with well, as is the weirdness of Charles, his self-centredness and Diana’s very worrying depression. There’s also Anne’s unhappy marriage and jealousy of Diana’s popularity, and we learn that Edward is an arrogant, entitled git and Andrew a charming pervert, at least the versions we see here.

Most interestingly, though, we see how blatantly Thatcher favouritises her son over her daughter out of probable preference fir the opposite sex, essentially because she worshipped her father and had issues with her mother. This is fascinating.

And yet, good though the character development is here, the structure is just too artificial to hang together. It’s a good execution of a flawed concept.

The Crown: Season 4, Episode 3- Fairytale

 "Whatever love means..."

I need to be careful with this episode. One of the side effects of watching and blogging a Netflix series that is actually current is that one cannot avoid comment on The Crown in the media. Because, I suspect, the fourth season is moving closer to the present, there's a lot more uproar over the fact that the series can be quite damning in its portrayal of (mostly) living royals, and we should remember that this is not documentary but fiction, based on fact but with much artistic licence. We should remember this.

However, Peter Morgan has been quoted as saying words to the effect that, while individual scenes may be fictionalised, the overall effect is "true".

Well... if what this episode shows us about the treatment of Diana is "true" on either level- if- we should set up an, er, new New Model Army, wage war against the Royalists and raise the standard of Parliament. Perhaps Marcus Rashford would make a good Lord Protector of a Second British Commonwealth? 

 This is all, quite rightly, shown from Diana's perspective, as she's forced to live in Buck House while Charles buggers off on a long jaunt. A teenager, a child, an innocent virgin (the royals seemed to insist on that) for sacrifice, whose youth and innocence is nicely shown through snippets of early '80s hits and that nicely conceived cene where she roller skates through those long, wide Buck House corridors with her Walkman, just to remind us that this is 1981 and apparently not some awful feudal past. The bulimia is hardly surprising.

Worse, the pressure of a nation, and beyond, reaches fever pitch. The only person she's able to meet is the worst person possible, Camilla Parker Bowles, in a scene that makes clear that "Gladys" knows "Fred" intimately well and she knows her future husband hardly at all. A sacrificial virgin, indeed.

Her attempts to back out are futile. She has been captured, and the helpless virgin will be sacrificed. Even after she sees that Charles is still seeing Camilla there is no way out.

And she's bored. Alone. Incommunicado with royals out of reach and Bagpuss her only comfort, given lessons in royal flummery by her bitch of a grandmother. Bullied and humiliated as she enters the presence of the royals, embarrassed and degraded as she deperately tried to curtsey to the right arrogant, entitled bastards in the right order. It's enough to awaken anyone's inner Robespierre.

Charles himself does not look at all good here. Yet he himself is unhappy, and himself has no real agency, trapped by what he is into an unwanted marriage to an unworldly child. The Queen's words to him near the end are horrible, about how her grandmother Queen Mary was unable to marry the charming Prince Albert Victor (he of the Ripper rumours, incidentally) after his sudden death, and was then forced to marry his younger brother, the notoriously charmless George V, and endure forty-two years of unhappiness. Christ.

This is gripping, superb telly, and Emma Corrin is extraordinary. It's also utterly horrifying. I've said before that, although I'm a republican in principle, I balk at the practicalities of actually doing it. In 1981, I would have said sod the practicalities. If this is anything like how the monarchy actually was in 1981, its continued existence would not have been acceptable.

The Crown: Season 4, Episode 2- The Balmoral Test

 "Well, I think we failed that test..."

That was a fascinating episode, and my fears about potential cosiness from the last instalment are starting to seem unfounded. The metaphor here with the stag- it innocently wanders across a stream into the land of the Royals, is stalked and ultimately shot- is not exactly subtle, but it's clever how the metaphor can be taken in different ways for Diana- enticed into their clutches and captured, and Thatcher- humiliated, and hurries off to symbolically shoot her Cabinet.

Thatcher and Denis are roundly humiliated at Balmoral, with the royals in genetal- Margaret especially- being inconsiderate and rude. Yet there's nuance to their snobbery. Thatcher is unable to relax, have fun, or do anything but work. She's stuffy, resentful, over-serious. One suspects that, tests or not, someone like Harold Wilson, who was most certainly non-U, would have charmed the lot of them. Yes, the snobbery is real, and the way this episode depicts the Thatchers' treatment (the accuracy of this is much-disputed, I believe, but this is television drama, not documentary) is both uncomfortable and hilarious to watch. But it's more complicated than that. 

More broadly, we see clearly how the very non-U Thatcher resents the aristocratic "wets" in her Cabinet, but she isn't necessarily in the right here. The "wets" stand for a time when Conservatives were actually conservative, and more concerned with running things than breaking them. I'm on the Queen's side during their spiky meeting towards the end. But one has to admire the way the script avoids didacticism.

Diana is young, innocent, only eighteen to Charles' thirty-three. Christ. And she's being manipulated throughout, very uncomfortably, into an arranged marriage in which she imagines she could ever be happy. She may pass the "test" with flying colours, being both U and fun-loving, but she's prey. Even Camilla is in on the whole thing. Philip, and pretty much the whole firm, are keen to rush Charles into a marriage he isn't sure he wants with a girl he hardly knows. The scene towards the end, as Diana gets papped for the first time, makes us shudder at where the next seventeen years are leading.

The Crown: Season 3, Episode 10- Cri de Coeur

 "War is our love..."

It's an interesting choice to end the season on such a downbeat note. This is a Margaret episode and a desperately unhappy one, yes, in which she makes a thankfully unsuccessful suicide attempt, yes, but everything seems to be falling apart. The country seems to be at rock bottom, leading the Queen to question exactly what it is she's supposed to have achieved as she faces her Silver Jubilee. It appears, perhaps, as though there's no future, and England's dreaming.

With a bit of sleight of hand this episode covers three and a bit years, from Harold Wilson becoming PM again in the wake of the February 1974 election to the Jubilee itself. There's a lovely little valedictory scene as Wilson resigns, calmly teling the Queen of his Alzheimers diagnosis which, after sixty years of public duty, it now poised to rob him of his retirement like the bastard it is. It's lovely to see how close they've become over the years, in that very British way, with him confessing he's always seen her as a "leftie at heart" and her accepting an invitation to dine at Downing Street, an honour only previously given to Churchill.

But, for Margaret, there is true despair. Her marriage is failing, but worse than that. Tony is humiliating her, again and again, with affair after affair while simultaneously managing to charm everyone- the Queen Mum, Philip, even the Queen who shows him obvious affection- into forgiving his little dalliances. Yet when Margaret has her own little fling with an obliging toy boy she faces tabloid humiliation and appalling double standards as her own affair- just the one, after years of being cuckqueaned- faces consequences very different from those faced by her husband. At least Tony is now faced with having to potentially marry his latest fling.

It’s a fascinating way to end a superb season. Roll on Season Four in a couple of days...

The Crown: Season 3, Episode 4- Bubbikins

 "Bubbikins...?"

 This is, again, a cleverly constructed episode, dealing with two seemingly separate- and thematically contrasting- threads, and drawing them together very neatly at the end. It's also the episode where Princess Anne appears for the first time as a more-or-less adult, and where I perhaps begin to warm a little to Tobias Menzies as Prince Philip. He's no Matt Smith though.

On the one hand, Prince Philip is whingeing about real terms cuts to the Civil List. He, husband to the richest woman in the world, may be forced to sell a palace or two or even give up polo. This is contrasted with his mother, Princess Alice, a humble nun in Athens, casually selling her priceless jewellery so she can continue her charity work. These themes interwtwine throughout. Philip tries to savage his public relations faux pas with a documentary on the royals so we can see how they're good value for money, and it goes so badly that the Queen orders it buried after a single broadcast. Meanwhile, the fascist coup of the colonels in Greece exiles Princess Alice to London... and Philip just avoids his mother, as an embarrassment and, worse, a mother who abandoned him.

The threads are drawn together where it is the publicity from Princess Alice, and her hard life of suffering and service, that gives the royals some positive publicity- and leads Philip finally to reconnect with his mother before it is too late.

Most importantly, perhaps, we are shown that Philip's mother didn't abandon him out of callousness, but of genuine and serious mental health issues, for which she suffered barbaric tortures and, just as bad, Freudian psychiatry. Mental health is an issue that can affect us all, eincluding royalty.

This doesn't, of course, stand comparison with its exceptional predecessor, but shows nevertheless the high watermark of this series. Good stuff.

The Crown: Season 3, Episode 2- Margaretology

 "There was a young lady from Dallas, who used a dynamite stick as a phallus. They found her vagina in North Carolina, and her arsehole in Buckingham Palace."

It’s surprising, I suppose, that The Crown has focused so relatively heavily on Margaret. And yet it can’t be denied that they keep finding new and interesting angles to take on Bertie’s second born. This episode manages to be fascinating as a study not only of Margaret but of the contrast and rivalry between the two sisters.

Importantly, the episode begins and ends with a coda, a flashback in 1943, where Tommy Lascelles starts to prepare young Elizabeth for a role for which the more outgoing Margaret would seem to be more suited. Yet Elizabeth is very firmly told, in spite of the fact that both sisters are happy for Margaret to be queen, that that’s not how it works.

In the present day, we are introduced to a fun little turn from an excellent Clancy Brown, who may not resemble LBJ but manages to be damned convincing as the old Texan arm-twister. And the whole episode centres on the UK being in the desperate position of needing an economic ball out from the USA-but we are not LBJ’s favourite country because Wilson won’t touch Vietnam, quite rightly, with a bargepole.

Enter Margaret, to save the day with charm, emotional intelligence, bawdiness and limericks. Helena Bonham Carter is superb here, as Margaret achieves things the Queen could never achieve, in an episode constantly seething with sibling rivalry.

We also see the cracks in Margaret’s marriage getting deeper, and Elizabeth getting fonder of Wilson. But it all ends, nicely, with Philip channelling a theory of Lascelles from when they got drunk together last season- there are the dull Windsor’s and the dazzling ones, and they always come in pairs. For every Bertie there’s a David, for every Elizabeth, a Margaret.

It’s a masterfully crafted and paced piece of telly. I’m not sure it’s particularly deep but the craftsmanship is superb.

The Crown: Season 3, Episode 1- Olding

 “What you see is what you get..."

A new season and... well, let’s face the elephant in the room, a new cast. I like the opening, introducing us to Olivia Colman’s new Queen and I must admit, although Claire Foy was magnificent, that she’s won me over. Helena Bonham Carter is superb as Margaret, of course. But Tobias Menzies, as a suddenly charisma-free Prince Philip, is certainly no Matt Smith, and on the face of this episode the character is set to become a lot less nuanced.

Fortunately we have a nicely nuanced performance from Jason Watkins as the deceptively straightforward Harold Wilson, alongside a superb turn from Samuel West as the vile traitor Anthony Blunt. And through the episode runs a lice line of misdirection. It’s out with the old, as the Tories are out and Elizabeth faces the first Labour Government of her reign just as the much-missed Winston Churchill (still the wonderful John Lithgow) is dying... and we hear constant rumours that Wilson is a Soviet spy until we discover the true culprit, who ends the episode threatening to blackmail Philip. I loved the Queen’s double-edged speech with Blunt, who seems to go unpunished.

And yet... this episode doesn’t have the depths of earlier seasons, in spite of its clever conceit. Perhaps it’s just the need to introduce a new status quo and a new cast. I hope so. Let’s hope that turns out to be the case.

Terminator Salvation (2009)

“If you’re listening to this, you are the resistance.”

This is it, then: the moment the Terminator franchise leaps headlong over a large carnivorous fish of the genus carcharhinus.

So what’s so awful about it? After all, it’s inoressive the way they briefly manage to get a T-800 looking like Arbus for a few seconds later on, and there’s a nice little fourth-wall breaking moment later on where Marcus uses a song as terminator bait, and it’s You Could Be Mine by Guns ‘n’ Roses, straight from the T2 soundtrack. Indeed, the first scene, with Marcus signing away his body in return for a kiss an hour before his judicial killing,  is dramatic and interesting.

And yet the film is a crashing disappointment, a generic action film with no time travel and bland CGI terminators that look like nothing special. Even the various air, sea and giant terminators don’t manage to excite; it’s all just a soup of bland CGI dullness.

There’s a glimmer on interest in the decision to set the film in 2018(!), Much earlier than the usual 2029 (although the year Skynet assumes control, after all the times-windy ness of earlier films, is kept wisely vague) so we get a John Connor who is not yet in charge and a young Kyle Reese, played charismatically by the sadly late Anton Yelchin. Trouble is, the part of John Connor absolutely requires a charismatic actor... and they cast Christian Bloody Bale.

Annoyingly, this is a film you probably need to see if you’re a Terminator completist. It won’t be much fun, though. Full, full, full.

Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016)

"Curiouser and curiouser..."

Alice in Wonderland was a very Tim Burton film, and Tim Burton is a director with a very distinctive individual style. It's extremely odd, then, that this sequel should have gone ahead without being directed by him. It seems somewhat humiliating to ask a director (James Bobin is best known for the recent Muppets films) to adopt the style of someone else. The result is perfectly diverting but not entirely successful.

Like its predecessor, this film is entirely original, with only nods to the source material in scenes involving chessboards, Humpty Dumpty and the love me while essentially telling a tale about Alice travelling back in time to save the Mad shatter, who's feeling a bit down. It's a visually arresting film, as you'd expect, but it tends to drag somewhat. Johnny Depp's relative lack of screen time doesn't help, and nor does it help that in those scenes where he does appear the plot doesn't really allow him to be entertaining. Still, Mia Wasikowska is again superb as a splendidly feminist Alice, and the moral of the film is that women can indeed be sea captains, patriarchy be damned.

Highlights are Sacha Baron Cohen as Father Time, a rare example of his playing a character not created by himself, and Andrew Scott as a sinister Victorian doctor obsessed with locking women away because of "female hysteria", reminding us of the dark realities of the time. But best of all is Helena Bonham Carter as the gloriously mad Red Queen. Her eventual reconciliation with the White Queen may be absurd and corny, but it's supposed to be.

This film is uneven, mildly disappointing and nowhere as good as its predecessor. But in spite of this it remains a glorious visual spectacle with a splendid cast and is worth watching in spite of it all.

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1994)

"You gave me life, and then you left me to die."

This is a very different cinematic version of Frankenstein. The point is not that it follows the broad outline of Mary Shelley's novel- which, not splitting hairs, it more or less does, including the Arctic bits- but that it is quite self-consciously made as part of a different genre. This doesn't have the trappings of a horror film and, unlike every other version I've seen, isn't a melodrama. Instead, this is presented simply as an adaptation of s classic novel, owing more to Merchant Ivory than to James Whale or Terence Fisher. The very presence of Helena Bonham Carter would signify that, we're it not for the fact that she would go on to meet Tim Burton.

Obviously, this means a focus on scientific ethics. But Kenneth Branagh's take on the themes of the novel seems to emphasise the Gothic, and not just in terms of mood; he includes the prominent lecture room scene in which Frankenstein stands up for an older, "philosophical" approach to science, and the controversial Professor Waldman (played by John Cleese in an entirely serious role) stands for an older, more alchemical tradition. This makes the monster, in a sense, a creation of the knowledge of a dark past- true Gothic.

It's also worth pondering Branagh's take on the links to Romanticism too, what with the original author being married to a certain writer of Ozymandias (and the thematically relevant Prometheus  Unbound) but not really in tune with the movement. Frankenstein here seems to be no fan of rationalism, yet he is hardly a sympathetic figure.

The film works well enough; Bonham Carter is excellent in the film's (and novel's) only significant female role from the pen of a daughter of Mary Wollstonecraft. Branagh is competent although, outside classical parts, he is not the most charismatic of actors; next to Colin Clive and Peter Cushing his take on the character is not overly memorable. Robert De Niro is superb as always. But there's a reason why film versions of Frankenstein lend themselves towards melodrama. This is a good film but not a great one, simply because the source material doesn't really lend itself to a straight adaptation.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 (2011)

"You've been raising him like a pig to the slaughter!"

And so it ends. At last. Deep breath.

It's no secret that I preferred the earlier films in this franchise, more whimsical and childlike in their charm and the fun they have with the concept of a school for spellcasters. I didn't exactly welcome the shift into being Big, Serious and Epic. Still, I supplies by this point it had to happen. And, to be fair, it really really works.

We begin on a downer, after Dobby's recent death, and the whole effect of the cinematography, the colours and the mood of the film is to tell us this. Harry and his friends have such a steep, uphill calm ahead of them. 

There are still a good few Horcruxes to go; I've lost count. And there's also another MacGuffin, the Sword of Gryffindor, which now falls into Harry's possession. If that isn't enough, there's Draco Malfoy's wand, now loyal to Harry. And there are, of course, the three eponymous deathly hallows: the elder wand (Voldemort's), the invisibility cloak (already Harry's) and the resurrection stone. That's a lot of MacGuffins.

The scene in the bank vaults, with the besuited goblin scribes, is visually beguiling, reminding me for some reason of the sort of thing we tended to see during Walt Simonson's amazing run on Thor back in the '80s. If that isn't enough, we get to see a dragon, first guarding treasure and then being ridden all over London. Awesome.

But the focus, inevitably, has to turn back to Hogwarts, where Snape truly seems to have instituted a reign of terror. Much violence ensues there, but a Horcrux is ultimately destroyed. There's a big, epic fight but, more importantly, Harry and Ginny finally kiss. At this point we know they're going to be together. Aaah!

There is still one last Horcrux, though: Voldemort's snake. There's also a boy revelation: Snape is killed by Voldemort, and it conspires thatcher was secretly a goody all along, inspired by his love for Harry's mother, and that killing Dumbledore was always part of Dumbledore's plan. I knew it! Not only that, but the Malfoys were always in on it, too. That I was not expecting.

But, ominously, Harry must die for Voldemort to be destroyed: it seems he always was a sacrificial lamb, which puts Dumbledore and other "goodies" in quite a different light. 

However, a dream Dumbledore has a way out, and rumours of Harry's death have been much exaggerated. And Neville Longbottom, no less, is positively inspiring. Harry's return turns the tide; I never thought I'd ever see Helena Bonham Carter being killed by Julie Walters. Voldemort dies at the "hands" of his own wand, Neville kills the snake and gets the girl (Luna, in his case), and we flash forward a generation to see everyone with age make-up.

I hate to say it, not liking my Potters to be too epic, but that was bloody brilliant, with the plot twists reaching absolute perfection. A triumph of an ending.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009)

“Excuse me, I have to go and vomit.”

I think I may have reached a turning point. I’ve enjoyed all the Harry Potter films, but up until now I have somewhat regretted the increasing seriousness of the films, in contrast to the sense of fun and wonder which the first film had. With this one, though, I may be starting to appreciate the more serious later films without pining for a more innocent past. This is probably because the ongoing plot and character development begins to bear real fruit at this point.

We begin with Harry and Dumbledore and a load of iconic London landmarks, which are looking very cinematic and presented as magical, in a way which evokes Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere and the works of China Mieville. A bit of a scrap occurs and the Millennium Bridge is destroyed with delightful gusto. It’s an exciting beginning, which sets us up for a dramatic film. There’s a bit of exposition as the pair visit an old pall of Dumbledore’s, Horace Slughorn, who is to be the new potions teacher and who has a very convincing armchair costume!

Probably the most interesting character in all of these films, partly because of Alan Rickman’s performance, is Snape, who has until now seemed to be a red herring. However, a visit from Bellatrix leads to the revelation that he is apparently a baddie! The fact that he later (SPOILER ALERT!!!) murders Dumbledore, is another subtle hint! But for now it’s a shock to see him swearing allegiance to the Mallfoy’s and to Voldemort himself.

Eventually, term finally starts, although not before some argy-bargy in the train (again). Snape is the new defence against the dark-arts teacher and is suspiciously ineffective in the role. There is a new MacGuffin in the form of Tom Riddle’s diary, and a new emphasis on unease between everyone at Hogwarts. Harry’s possessiveness over the diary drives a wedge between him and his friends, while the mutual attraction between Hermione and Ron, what with them being teenagers in a movie, predictably leads to denial and awkwardness between them. Once again, as with previous Harry Potter films, and indeed with Buffy, the moral is clearly that a hero needs friends.

It’s an uncomfortable term, ending on the most uncomfortable note as Harry overhears Snape with Draco. The plot thickens as Harry discovers that Tom Riddle has a past with Slughorn which he is unwilling to discuss. Slughorn is not the only link to potions; in this film they positively abound, and Ron seems to be under the influence of a love potion. Slughorn, meanwhile, is soon the victim of an attempted poisoning. Things continue to go from bad to worse, and Tom Riddle’s diary is a sort of ring to Harry’s Frodo.

Fortunately there is such a thing as liquid luck. There is also such a thing as Hagrid, who is, as ever, a good friend. As soon as the gang gets back together, all friends again, things begin to look up, and for the first time we discover what horcruxes are, and the quest to destroy them all begins. This is, in fact, the beginning of the end of the film series, and a suitable point for Dumbledore, the father figure, to be killed off! This is a shocking event. It seems that Snape was the Half-Blood Prince after all. It is up to Harry and his friends to fulfil Dumbledore’s mission, destroy the horcruxes and vanquish Voldemort.

I enjoyed that. It was dark, but had an epic quality that previous films have not. If the final two films are anything like this then I will enjoy the ride!

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007)

"Dementors in Little Whingeing. What next?"

I really wish these Harry Potter films wouldn't keep getting darker and darker. I miss the fun of the first one. Still, this film is an improvement on the last one and an entertaining viewing, at least. 

We begin with the world of magic infiltrating the normal world of the "Muggles", a potent concept, and with temperature still being referred to in terms of Fahrenheit in spite of the fact that it's the twenty-first century. Harry is expelled, sort of, for portending his unpleasant step-brother from a Dementors but, as he's Very Important, the rules do not apply to him in the same way as they apply to us plebs. Professor Moody comes to his defence, and he's an impressive figure to have on one's side, being the only Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to retain his post from film to film.

Harry is inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, which no doubt also contains many senior police officers. The word "Witangemot" gets bandied about, which is cool. Things are ominous, and the armies of good and evil are being raised against each other.

There follows a sequence of fun scenes, as Ron's dad discusses Muggles from an anthropological point of view and there's an exciting chase sequence with much CGI and many London landmarks. Harry is tried by a kangaroo court, set up by the increasingly sinister Ministry of Magic. He is lucky to be acquitted, but the mood remains uneasy as school starts and we are introduced to the eccentric and mysterious Luna Lovegood.

The school is gradually taken over by the Gradgrindian tyrant Dolores Umbridge, a tool of the Ministry of Magic played delightfully by Imelda Staunton. Her increasingly stifling rules and regulations slowly weaken the school, banning creativity and teaching to the test in a barbed comment on contemporary British education. When she forces Harry to do lines, in his own blood, on his own skin, we know full well that she's a baddie, and a good one. This is the best film in the series since the first one.

Umbridge is soon appointed "High Inquisitor" to address "seriously falling standards", and much damage is done. The delightfully eccentric Professor Trelawney is sacked on grounds that are pure Gradgrind. There's a mood of paranoia, and Harry one more needs to be reminded that even heroes need help from their friends, even after Dumbledore has been sacked and things look very bleak.

Harry gathers together a resistance movement and trains them in secret, in scenes which seem to have their allegorical roots on political tyranny rather than anything educational. Harry gets a kiss under the Mistletoe, but term ends on an uneasy note.

Snape, everyone's favourite red herring, tells Harry that Voldemort has a mental link with him, and attempts to teach him resistance. Harry, though, is worried about similarities between Voldemort and himself. It is Sirius who has the words of wisdom: "We all have light and dark inside of us. What matters is what we choose to act upon. That's who we really are."

The new term is no better; the sexy but nasty Belletrix Lestrange is one the use, and Harry's little gang is stitched up by snitches, as a result of which Dumbledore is sent to Azkaban. Things seem to have reached rock bottom. All this is rather effective.

Hogwarts by this point resembles Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four. And Snape remains unfriendly to Harry- because, we learn, he was bullied by Harry's dad. Ouch. 

There is, yet again, a final battle, in which Harry, being all heroic and that, refuses the  temptation to kill Bellatrix. Everything is ok afterwards, arguably a little too quickly to be plausible, and all is as it was. We learn of a prophecy about Voldemort and Harry: one must kill the other...

That's more like it. I hope the next film maintains the quality.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)

"I'm sorry, I was having a flashback."

So, Tim Burton did a movie version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Bound to happen, wasn't it? The book is perfect for his whimsicality (is that a word?) and visual style. There  is room, I suppose, for the complaint that Burton has become too comfortable with a certain kind of film and a certain type of approach- vaguely gothic, whimsical films in the fairytale style which tend to star Johnny Depp or the missus, Helena Bonham Carter, and that it would be nice to see him do something else for a change. But the formula works, again and again.

Here, for example, we focus on a poor family who live in a version of modern England in a kind of poverty which implies no Welfare State, and all of whom, Oliver Twist-like, speak in not entirely realistic RP accents. The town in which they live is a highly stylised version of an Industrial Revolution northern city, a sort of cross between Coketown from Hard Times and the paintings of L.S. Lowry. It's some distance from the American setting of Roald Dahl's novel (a childhood favourite, naturally), but it works wonderfully well.

The children accompanying Charlie on his tour of Willy Wonka's factory are deliciously horrible grotesques, as we might expect. It's an inspired idea to have the great Deep[ Roy portray all of the Ooompa Loompas, and their delightfully and darkly funny songs at each child's comeuppance are a highlight of the film, although the sequence with Mike Teevee, inveighing against the bad influence of television, has dated somewhat; the twenty-first century has very different, though equally silly, targets for its periodic moral panics.

Johnny Depp is superb, and suitably weird, as Willy Wonka. I didn't like the treatment of the character towards the end of the film, however. When he and Charlie take the Glass Elevator up and out of the factory we get not an exciting adventure with the Vernicious Knids but a load of sentimental family-themed twaddle that I could have done without. Still, at least this silly subplot gives us a glimpse of the great Christopher Lee. There are also lots of nicely metatextual gags throughout, and that sort of stuff is right up my street.

If you'll forgive the ending, this film is a delight. Yes, it's exactly what you'd expect Tim Burton to do with the source material, but isn't that what we all want?

Alice in Wonderland (2010)

“I’ve been shrunk, stretched, scratched and stuffed into a teapot!”

Well, it was only a matter of time until Tim Burton had a go at Alice in Wonderland, wasn’t it? Three things were pretty much inevitable: it was going to feature Helena Bonham Carter, it was going to feature Johnny Depp, and it was going to be good. Lo, all three of these things come to pass.

Of course, Tim Burton, being Tim Burton, doesn’t actually make an adaptation of Alice in Wonderland; he jumps straight to Through the Looking Glass, but still calls it Alice in Wonderland anyway. It all looks amazing, and as trippy as all versions made since Jefferson Airplane did White Rabbit have to be by default. The early flashback scenes to Alice’s childhood have a very stylised, uber-Victorian look, while the present day scenes have a very un-Burton realism to be contrasted with the, er, wonders of Wonderland. I only saw this film in 2-D, and I’m gutted; lots of shots were quite clearly composed to look amazing in 3-D, and I’d imagine that the contrast with what I assume would be a 2-D “real” world would be even more effective.

The cast is, obviously, brilliant, and Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen and Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter are both as extraordinary as you’d expect. (Depp effortlessly switches between RP and Scottish; is there any accent he can’t do?) But there are far too many gloriously whimsical performances to. I ought to mention, though, that this is the last ever screen credit for Michael Gough, who was ninety-four years old when he voiced this role.

There’s obviously a moral behind the story: as the White Queen says, “You cannot live to please others. Alice arrives down the rabbit this time in the midst of a very public marriage proposal from an absolute drip of a man, a proposal she’s under huge pressure to accept, and the film shows her gradually coming to realise that she doesn’t need to. In this sense, Wonderland is the “looking glass” of the original title, although the plot is very different. There is also a nice philosophical conversation at the end between Alice and the Hatter in which Alice comes to realise that this world is real, and not a figment of her imagination, subjective though this is; which one of them is real and which dreaming. It’s nice to see the Jabberwocky poem crowbarred in, too; the mosyer itself is a magnificent bit of CGI.

Of course, there’s a heavy dose of feminism in here that was lacking in the novel. There is only a Red Queen and White Queen; kings are absent. The moral of the film presents what would in Victorian times have been a rather shocking message about the role of women. And, of course, the conclusion, in which Alice becomes an apprentice in a huge trading company, is not exactly realistic for the period but is necessary for our modern, and rather more enlightened, sensibilities.

One day I’ll probably give a bad review to a Tim Burton film. But I don’t see that day coming any day soon.