HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX<

Directed by David Yates

There's a scene in HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, where Harry is looking into a mirror and he sees a portrait of himself as a young boy with his murdered parents. It was probably the most shocking image in the film, not for its narrative or visuals, but for the fact that Daniel Radcliffe, the actor who plays Harry, was just a wee kid when the first HP film came out, and he's now a young man. It was both alarming and revealing to see that so much time has passed since the Harry Potter books and films have come out, and it was a reminder that we as an audience have grown up with this boy, this school, this wonderful world that J.K. Rowling has so lovingly concocted.

Given this, in the latest installment of the Harry Potter films, there's a decided lack of wonderment with Hogwarts. Many critics have pointed this out as a flaw, that they no longer had the sense of enchantment, that the world of Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic seemed flat and rather ordinary. But the fact of the matter is that we have been with these books since 1997 and the films since 2000, and so therefore we are familiar with Hogwarts, we comprehend the magic, we know these characters well. There is little sense of discovery about this world, because there is little left to discover. Both the film and the book acknowledge this, and they both make the correct move in delving entirely into character and plot development. The magic is over, and now life in this world can truly begin.

As is tradition, we begin the film with Harry in the world of non-magical humans, the Muggles. He is surly and moody- a typical teenager no less- and he is jolted from his dreary summer when he is attacked by Dementors, the wraith-like specters that guard the prisons at Azkaban. The very tone of this impressive and taut opening sequence tells us that the dream life has ended- rules of children and legislation are no longer applying here, and we're going into dark, murky territory.

Harry is whisked off to a magic safe house owned by his godfather Sirius Black (the always-reliable Gary Oldman), and Harry learns that corruption and fear mongering has beset the governance of the world of magic, and that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, aka Lord Voldemort, is actively recruiting an army of dark wizards, whose ultimate intent is to push the world into ruin.

Harry heads off to Hogwarts with much on his mind, and he increasingly isolates himself, buckling under the burdens that have been placed upon him. He is greeted by a new Defense of the Dark Arts professor, Dolores Umbridge (an amazing Imelda Staunton), who is also a representative of the Ministry of Magic. Umbridge bgins a cold and calculated overhaul of Hogwarts, turning it into a place of draconian rule, governed by fear, and controlled by torture and punishment.

It's quite clear what Rowling and Yates are aiming for, as this is a thinly-veiled allegory to the governance of the United States and United Kingdom, where the press is a tool of a corrupted government, and information is the most powerful weapon of change. Throughout the film there are allusions to underground insurgencies, social upheaval, and revolution. There is talk of people's armies, of Orwellian law, and abused authority. All of which has very little to do with magic, but it remains intriguing because these are issues of the human psyche, and to place it within a world where magic and mysterious creature are an afterthought serves to hammer down the point with great force and effect.

For a children's / young adult film, HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX is a refreshingly political film, one that can be digested without feeling like they've been pandered to. Yates has proven to be a capable director of actors, but admittedly, his grasp of visuals are not up to the gargantuan standards that the series has set. The film is entrenched in darkness, which is appropriate for the subject matter- Dolores Umbridge has turned Hogwarts into a prison, a dungeon where no fun or exploration can exist. The only scene of joy is a scene of rebellion, marked with impressive fireworks and the laughter of children.

Truth be told, it's lack of visual punch aside, I felt this was the best of the Harry Potter films, and should I venture down this route, I regarded it as the EMPIRE STRIKES BACK of the series. This is because of the human element of the film, the realization that the evil of the dark side is prevalent and very, very real, that sometimes the enemy may very well be our neighbours, and worse yet, ourselves. I have bought into this world of magic completely, and for the first time I could relate, on a very personal level, to the trials and tribulations of the characters within.

Credit for this goes to the actors, who have all matured from pantomime to real dramatic thespians. Particularly strong is the work of Radcliffe, who by now must be so familiar with Harry Potter that he is reacting instinctively as the character. I'm sure these kids have also benefit from working with some of the finest actors in the world in Oldman, Staunton, and the truly remarkable talents of Alan Rickman, Emma Thompson and Ralph Fiennes. Collectively, the cast has successfully populated Hogwarts with real people, and not sketches of characters from a book.

I simply adore this series, its characters, its creatures, and its settings. Even at its darkest, Rowling's sprawling masterpiece of a boy wizard learning to deal with responsibilities of power is something that always lights a fire within my heart. She and her collaborators have managed to capture the true moments of wonderment, joy and pain that growing up entails. Perhaps it is this universal appeal that has made Harry Potter such an icon of the young and the old. Generations from now we will look back upon this body of work and it will have stood the test of time, because its sentiments and heart are timeless.

We can only strive to create such work, and in the meantime we stand in its awe and take from it pleasures and joys that have indescribable value.

APOCALYPTO

APOCALYPTO
Co-written and Directed by Mel Gibson

It's very difficult to write a review of this film without having some subconscious reference back to Mel Gibson's personal politics, so let me try and clear the air before we begin. Mr. Gibson's politics and beliefs may very well be troubling, but as a director his skills merit artistic respect. The bigger quandary is that, in today's world of art, it is personality that weighs heavier than talent, and in such an environment is it really possible to divorce the art from the entity behind it? It's a difficult task, but not impossible- we respect Polanski's work despite his criminal background, we still regard D.W. Griffith as the godfather of American cinema despite his making one of the most racist films in cinematic history, and the writings of Nietzsche are still highly regarded despite his being a misogynist. So it's not impossible, and what I write is in respect to Gibson's execution of his art, and not the man himself.

On to the matter at hand...

Man has been at war since his inception- not with himself, but rather with nature. Since the first development of some level of cognitive reasoning, perhaps the creation of the first tool, man has been in an antagonistic conflict with nature, trying to bend her and make her submit to our desires which we call civilization. We have manipulated her, polluted her, and defined her within our own paradigm, all with a complete lack of sensitivity or any fear of repercussion.

Archaeological data suggests that ancient civilizations had a more intrinsic relationship with nature, enlisting deities that were representative of natural forces, done to establish boundaries and god-fearing respect. In our modern development, this relationship was lost- perhaps to the spread of Christianity, or perhaps, as aforementioned, to the progression of science and technology. Or maybe both. Either way, our respect for nature has waned and is on the brink of extinction.

It is in retrospect then that I feel Mel Gibson's Mayan-language epic APOCALYPTO is a fair warning to what we as a civilization have in store for us, should our war with nature persist. Upon first glance, the film looks like a simple action-adventure, a chase-driven adrenaline ride meant to get the blood flowing and the eyes popping. But Gibson is not so simple a filmmaker, and his intentions for the film bleed much deeper than what is on the surface. If THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST was Gibson's uneven ode to submission, then APOCALYPTO is a likewise testament to man's ill-fated defiance to a higher power.

The story is basic- a Mayan tribe leads a peaceful existence in the forest. Their idyllic life is disrupted by a raid from a more "civilized" tribe, and the villagers are taken away, led to a giant temple, and placed upon the altar of the Sun God, to be sacrificed to satiate the deity. Among these abductees is Jaguar Paw (Rudy Youngblood in a sterling performance), a family man who has within him a strong natural instinct to read danger from his surroundings. By celestial blessing, he is spared the sacrifice and escapes from his captors, and is chased through the forest.

And that's it. Gibson spares us from typical Hollywood cliche of over-explaining this dead culture, bypassing pedagogy and dropping us right in the thick of things, giving us a deep sense of discovery and curiosity. His intention is to not educate us about Mayan culture, but rather experience it.

There are no doubts that the Mayan and Aztec civilizations were beyond violent, many of the brutalities stemming from early machinations of the unison of church and state. We're shown the holy men and emperors manipulating the masses with practice, ritual, and fear. The balance of power weighs heavily in the aristocracy and the religious institutions, and their hunger for power is satiated in smoke and mirrors, through the horrific practice of live human sacrifice. Again, the film gives little academic explanation of what these rituals mean, but it is exhaustive in its accuracy (I can attest to this, as I studied Mayan cultures as part of my Anthropology degree).

Gibson is to be credited in that never once are these civilizations portrayed as savages- their practices and beliefs, while draconian by today's standards, are given treatment without judgment. The fear and anxiety we feel is for the characters, and does not stem from a critique of cultural practise. A commendable feat, given the nature of the subject.

Jaguar Paw's escape is simply brilliant in execution, a nerve-wracking sequence of events that serve to strip these complex civilizations down to primal creatures, where decorum is ditched for the sole purpose of survival. It's here where we see nature rear her vindictive head, preying on the men who pursue Jaguar Paw, giving penance to those that defy and attempt to mutilate her design. She in turn cooperates with Jaguar Paw, a man who respects and is in harmony with nature, a man who understands his place in the bigger picture. It is nature who reveals the true man within- a creature among many other creatures, an entity who is privileged to share life with the trees, the soil, and the biomes surrounding him.

Gibson's vision of nature is therefore both menacing and nurturing, and it is true to the beliefs of the ancient civilizations that placed equal fear and respect in her. In the final shots we see Jaguar Paw looking upon the advancements of a new civilization, and he ultimately turns his back upon it, placing his trust within the forest.

A bold statement, but a necessary one. Perhaps we have abused this planet, and being that she is stronger than us, she can squash us in one foul swoop. She has been patient with us, giving us the benefit of the doubt that we will see the err in our ways. She has at times warned and punished us, with tremors and cracks in the soil, and ferocious punches of water and fire that have decimated the strongest shelters we could muster up.

APOCALYPTO, as its name suggests, is about the destruction of a highly advanced civilization, but it is also a revelation, a prophecy, that if we continue along a path of defiance against nature, than we too shall crumble. Our civilization is one that decidedly lacks humility, and has an arrogance of invincibility that bears repercussion. Just as Mayan men were sacrificed to causes of little understanding, how different is it today that we send innocent men to war for a conflict that is cryptic in cause? We assume foolish power over our fellow citizens, boorish superiority, murderous intent justified by religious fundamentalism, and have leaders who assume the power of gods.

Certainly the film carries its share of flaws, at times playing to the predictable and reveling in spectacle over substance. These instances disrupt the suspension of belief and tend to remind us that we are watching a film, but for the most part the film is entirely convincing, from its spectacular settings and cinematography, to fine, earnest performances from a cast of unknowns. Not since Werner Herzog's masterpiece AGUIRRE, WRATH OF GOD have I felt literally transported to such a distant place and time, and APOCALYPTO gives good reason to make such a comparison. This is Gibson's best film to date, and an experience to be cherished.

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