THE LONG GOODBYE
I watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, the last of the series, on Day One of its world release, and again two days ago. The movie had HP fans crying (no, I'm not referring to myself), and not because of what was going onscreen. It was their long goodbye to childhood coming to an end.
Deathly Hallows: Part 2 was all the action left out in the first part. Ultimately, the series ended with a quiet that didn't show much rejoicing, but rather like a sigh of relief when a heavy burden is lifted. I approve of this direction. It serves to balance the heavy bulk of action. You can see it used as a transition from the aftermath to their 11-year-old selves, as they escort their own children to the train station that first intertwined their friendships and eventually, their fates.
Casting has always been one of the stronger points of the Harry Potter movies. Snape, played by Alan Rickman for the entire stretch of the series, shined brightly in this last one. The misjudged. The underdog. The hopeless romantic. I loved him as a villain and I love him even more in this twist. He gets to have heart-wrenching breakdown scenes as the good guy while able to shift to the coldness of his old character in fluidity. Its crazy beautiful! The second movie of Deathly Hallows could have been named Harry Potter and Severus Snape, and I wouldn't mind. Another fine revelation is Matthew Lewis as Neville Longbottom, who has grown from a nerdy kid to a promising ruggedness reminiscent of Clive Owen.
Truth be told, I got fed up with the books because of the major letdown after Goblet of Fire (Book 4). I think it was also a financial move that the books were stretched to seven books, to kick back out of the worldwide demand of the HP generation. Anyway, the narrative development was growing old and it didn't sit well with my budding artsy-fartsy brow back in college. That was what growing out of something felt like. Or maybe Book 4 just had my hopes up too high, left unmatched by the rest of the series? Maybe. Still, it was a huge chunk of my childhood, and I felt teary-eyed knowing that a decade was spent with Harry Potter in my life, and knowing how the books helped me deal with preteen angst towards the gargoyles I live with (I mean it, they really do look like gargoyles). The child, as a wizard, gives the other child-wizards a chance to have control over an adult-dominated world, to level with the adults whenever their authority becomes abusive and unbearable. Not all parents or guardians have the capacity or desire to nurture others. Unlike children, who know instinctively how to be children, it seems parental instinct is hard to come by these days (a.k.a. my theory of the overwhelming success of the HP series).
From a boy who once lived in a cupboard under the stairs, Harry Potter gave children a world where they are called upon and are seen in the promise of what they could be, rather than whisked away and treated like a nuisance. All children around the age of ten who grew up reading the books must've felt a tingling in their hearts: "Maybe I am a wizard!" I know I did.
You may also want to check out the other reviews of Deathly Hallows: Part 2 by Sue Denim and Sting Lacson.
I watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, the last of the series, on Day One of its world release, and again two days ago. The movie had HP fans crying (no, I'm not referring to myself), and not because of what was going onscreen. It was their long goodbye to childhood coming to an end.
Deathly Hallows: Part 2 was all the action left out in the first part. Ultimately, the series ended with a quiet that didn't show much rejoicing, but rather like a sigh of relief when a heavy burden is lifted. I approve of this direction. It serves to balance the heavy bulk of action. You can see it used as a transition from the aftermath to their 11-year-old selves, as they escort their own children to the train station that first intertwined their friendships and eventually, their fates.
Truth be told, I got fed up with the books because of the major letdown after Goblet of Fire (Book 4). I think it was also a financial move that the books were stretched to seven books, to kick back out of the worldwide demand of the HP generation. Anyway, the narrative development was growing old and it didn't sit well with my budding artsy-fartsy brow back in college. That was what growing out of something felt like. Or maybe Book 4 just had my hopes up too high, left unmatched by the rest of the series? Maybe. Still, it was a huge chunk of my childhood, and I felt teary-eyed knowing that a decade was spent with Harry Potter in my life, and knowing how the books helped me deal with preteen angst towards the gargoyles I live with (I mean it, they really do look like gargoyles). The child, as a wizard, gives the other child-wizards a chance to have control over an adult-dominated world, to level with the adults whenever their authority becomes abusive and unbearable. Not all parents or guardians have the capacity or desire to nurture others. Unlike children, who know instinctively how to be children, it seems parental instinct is hard to come by these days (a.k.a. my theory of the overwhelming success of the HP series).
From a boy who once lived in a cupboard under the stairs, Harry Potter gave children a world where they are called upon and are seen in the promise of what they could be, rather than whisked away and treated like a nuisance. All children around the age of ten who grew up reading the books must've felt a tingling in their hearts: "Maybe I am a wizard!" I know I did.
You may also want to check out the other reviews of Deathly Hallows: Part 2 by Sue Denim and Sting Lacson.
