“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” the fifth movie in the series, begins, as most of the others have, with a spot of unpleasantness at the Dursleys, and ends with Harry facing down Lord Voldemort. The climactic battle between the young wizard (Daniel Radcliffe) and the Dark Lord (Ralph Fiennes) foreshadows the final, potentially fatal showdown we all suspect is coming in Book Seven, which will be published later this month.Anticipation of that event may be stealing some thunder from this movie — a rare instance of the book business beating Hollywood at its own hype-producing game — but between now and publication day on July 21, Potter fans can take some satisfaction in a sleek, swift and exciting adaptation of J. K. Rowling’s longest novel to date. Devotees of fine British acting, meanwhile, can savor the addition of Imelda Staunton (an Oscar nominee for “Vera Drake”) to the roster of first-rate thespians moonlighting as Hogwarts faculty.
Curiously enough, “Order of the Phoenix,” clocking in at a little over two and a quarter hours, is the shortest of the “Harry Potter” films. The nearly 900-page source has been elegantly streamlined by Michael Goldenberg, the screenwriter (who replaces Steve Kloves), and David Yates, the director (who follows Chris Columbus, Alfonso Cuarón and Mike Newell in the job). There is no Quidditch, and not many boarding-school diversions. Instead, “Order of the Phoenix,” which begins like a horror movie with a Dementor attack in a suburban underpass, proceeds as a tense and twisty political thriller, with clandestine meetings, bureaucratic skullduggery and intimations of conspiracy hanging in the air.
Mr. Yates, whose previous work has mainly been in television, is best known in Britain for “State of Play,” a brilliant mini- series about power, corruption and deceit. Those are among the themes he explores in this film, which depicts a wizard world riven by factionalism and threatened by chaos and inflexible authoritarianism. While Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic (Robert Hardy), maintains his highly suspect denial of Voldemort’s return, a coup at Hogwarts threatens the benevolent administration of Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon). Harry, meanwhile, has gone from prince to pariah, smeared in the magical press (where his name is rendered “Harry Plotter”) and subject to cold stares and whispers at school. Back in Harry’s early days at Hogwarts, Severus Snape (Alan Rickman), Harry’s foil and reluctant ally, sneered at the boy’s “celebrity.” But in this episode, the boy — if you can still call him that — encounters the darker side of fame.
Some of his schoolmates doubt his account of the death of Cedric Diggory, who was killed by Voldemort at the end of the previous film, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.” Dumbledore, Harry’s chief patron and protector over the years, seems to be keeping his distance, which leaves Harry feeling abandoned and betrayed. And more acutely, the pressures of being a designated hero — and possibly martyr — have begun to weigh on Harry, to isolate him from friends and to come between him and the possibility of a normal teenage life.
He does, at least, experience a first kiss with Cho Chang (Katie Leung), but that turns out to be a brief and equivocal moment of bliss. Whereas “Goblet of Fire” plunged Harry and his pals into the murky waters of awakening adolescent sexuality (or at least got their toes wet), “Order of the Phoenix” tackles the emotional storms that can buffet young people on their way to adulthood. Mr. Radcliffe, maturing as an actor in perfect time with his character, emphasizes Harry’s anger and self-pity. Mr. Yates frequently places him alone on one side of the frame, with Ron and Hermione (Rupert Grint and Emma Watson), his loyal but increasingly estranged friends, together on the other.
But this is not an Ingmar Bergman film, though perhaps Mr. Bergman can be coaxed into service for the film version of “Deathly Hallows,” the final book of the series. “Order of the Phoenix” has its grim, bleak elements, but it is also, after all, an installment in a mighty multimedia entertainment franchise. And like its predecessors, it manages to succeed as a piece of entertainment without quite fulfilling its potential as a movie. Perhaps by design, the films never quite live up to the books. This one proves to be absorbing but not transporting, a collection of interesting moments rather than a fully integrated dramatic experience. This may just be a consequence of the necessary open-endedness of the narrative, or of an understandable desire not to alienate “Potter” readers by taking too many cinematic chances.
Although “Order of the Phoenix” is not a great movie, it is a pretty good one, in part because it does not strain to overwhelm the audience with noise and sensation. There are some wonderful special-effects-aided set pieces — notably an early broomstick flight over London — and some that are less so. People waving wands at one another, even accompanied by bright lights and scary sounds, does not quite sate this moviegoer’s appetite for action. But the production design (by Stuart Craig) and the cinematography (by Slawomir Idziak) are frequently astonishing in their aptness and sophistication. The interiors of the Ministry of Magic offer a witty, nightmarish vision of wizardly bureaucracy, while Harry’s angst and loneliness register in Mr. Idziak’s cold, washed-out shades of blue.
The scariest color in his palette, however, turns out to be pink. That is the color favored by Dolores Umbridge (Ms. Staunton), whose cheery English-auntie demeanor masks a ruthlessly autocratic temperament. She posts proclamations on the Hogwarts walls, subjects violators to painful punishments and substitutes book learning for practical magic. Her purpose is to institute Minister Fudge’s head-in-the-sand policy with respect to the Voldemort threat, and she does a heck of a job.
Ms. Staunton joins an astonishing ensemble of serious actors who, in the best British tradition, refuse to condescend to the material, earning their paychecks and the gratitude of the grown-ups in the audience. Mr. Rickman has turned Snape (whose animus against Harry is partly explained here) into one of the most intriguingly ambiguous characters in modern movies, and it is always a treat to see the likes of Emma Thompson, David Thewlis and Gary Oldman, however briefly.
Even better, the Potter enterprise has become a breeding ground for the next generation of British acting talent. Mr. Radcliffe has already spread his wings (and dropped his pants) on the London stage, and cultural pessimists of my generation can take comfort in knowing that while our parents may have witnessed Malcolm McDowell and Julie Christie in their prime, our children will see Mr. Grint and Ms. Watson in theirs. “Order of the Phoenix” also introduces Evanna Lynch, a pale, wide-eyed 15-year-old nonprofessional from Ireland who, having read the book, decided that no one else could play Luna Lovegood, the weirdest witch at Hogwarts. It seems Ms. Lynch was right. She’s spellbinding.
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). Its violence is intense, though not graphic, and some of its images are quite scary.
Curiously enough, “Order of the Phoenix,” clocking in at a little over two and a quarter hours, is the shortest of the “Harry Potter” films. The nearly 900-page source has been elegantly streamlined by Michael Goldenberg, the screenwriter (who replaces Steve Kloves), and David Yates, the director (who follows Chris Columbus, Alfonso Cuarón and Mike Newell in the job). There is no Quidditch, and not many boarding-school diversions. Instead, “Order of the Phoenix,” which begins like a horror movie with a Dementor attack in a suburban underpass, proceeds as a tense and twisty political thriller, with clandestine meetings, bureaucratic skullduggery and intimations of conspiracy hanging in the air.
Mr. Yates, whose previous work has mainly been in television, is best known in Britain for “State of Play,” a brilliant mini- series about power, corruption and deceit. Those are among the themes he explores in this film, which depicts a wizard world riven by factionalism and threatened by chaos and inflexible authoritarianism. While Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic (Robert Hardy), maintains his highly suspect denial of Voldemort’s return, a coup at Hogwarts threatens the benevolent administration of Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon). Harry, meanwhile, has gone from prince to pariah, smeared in the magical press (where his name is rendered “Harry Plotter”) and subject to cold stares and whispers at school. Back in Harry’s early days at Hogwarts, Severus Snape (Alan Rickman), Harry’s foil and reluctant ally, sneered at the boy’s “celebrity.” But in this episode, the boy — if you can still call him that — encounters the darker side of fame.
Some of his schoolmates doubt his account of the death of Cedric Diggory, who was killed by Voldemort at the end of the previous film, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.” Dumbledore, Harry’s chief patron and protector over the years, seems to be keeping his distance, which leaves Harry feeling abandoned and betrayed. And more acutely, the pressures of being a designated hero — and possibly martyr — have begun to weigh on Harry, to isolate him from friends and to come between him and the possibility of a normal teenage life.
He does, at least, experience a first kiss with Cho Chang (Katie Leung), but that turns out to be a brief and equivocal moment of bliss. Whereas “Goblet of Fire” plunged Harry and his pals into the murky waters of awakening adolescent sexuality (or at least got their toes wet), “Order of the Phoenix” tackles the emotional storms that can buffet young people on their way to adulthood. Mr. Radcliffe, maturing as an actor in perfect time with his character, emphasizes Harry’s anger and self-pity. Mr. Yates frequently places him alone on one side of the frame, with Ron and Hermione (Rupert Grint and Emma Watson), his loyal but increasingly estranged friends, together on the other.
But this is not an Ingmar Bergman film, though perhaps Mr. Bergman can be coaxed into service for the film version of “Deathly Hallows,” the final book of the series. “Order of the Phoenix” has its grim, bleak elements, but it is also, after all, an installment in a mighty multimedia entertainment franchise. And like its predecessors, it manages to succeed as a piece of entertainment without quite fulfilling its potential as a movie. Perhaps by design, the films never quite live up to the books. This one proves to be absorbing but not transporting, a collection of interesting moments rather than a fully integrated dramatic experience. This may just be a consequence of the necessary open-endedness of the narrative, or of an understandable desire not to alienate “Potter” readers by taking too many cinematic chances.
Although “Order of the Phoenix” is not a great movie, it is a pretty good one, in part because it does not strain to overwhelm the audience with noise and sensation. There are some wonderful special-effects-aided set pieces — notably an early broomstick flight over London — and some that are less so. People waving wands at one another, even accompanied by bright lights and scary sounds, does not quite sate this moviegoer’s appetite for action. But the production design (by Stuart Craig) and the cinematography (by Slawomir Idziak) are frequently astonishing in their aptness and sophistication. The interiors of the Ministry of Magic offer a witty, nightmarish vision of wizardly bureaucracy, while Harry’s angst and loneliness register in Mr. Idziak’s cold, washed-out shades of blue.
The scariest color in his palette, however, turns out to be pink. That is the color favored by Dolores Umbridge (Ms. Staunton), whose cheery English-auntie demeanor masks a ruthlessly autocratic temperament. She posts proclamations on the Hogwarts walls, subjects violators to painful punishments and substitutes book learning for practical magic. Her purpose is to institute Minister Fudge’s head-in-the-sand policy with respect to the Voldemort threat, and she does a heck of a job.
Ms. Staunton joins an astonishing ensemble of serious actors who, in the best British tradition, refuse to condescend to the material, earning their paychecks and the gratitude of the grown-ups in the audience. Mr. Rickman has turned Snape (whose animus against Harry is partly explained here) into one of the most intriguingly ambiguous characters in modern movies, and it is always a treat to see the likes of Emma Thompson, David Thewlis and Gary Oldman, however briefly.
Even better, the Potter enterprise has become a breeding ground for the next generation of British acting talent. Mr. Radcliffe has already spread his wings (and dropped his pants) on the London stage, and cultural pessimists of my generation can take comfort in knowing that while our parents may have witnessed Malcolm McDowell and Julie Christie in their prime, our children will see Mr. Grint and Ms. Watson in theirs. “Order of the Phoenix” also introduces Evanna Lynch, a pale, wide-eyed 15-year-old nonprofessional from Ireland who, having read the book, decided that no one else could play Luna Lovegood, the weirdest witch at Hogwarts. It seems Ms. Lynch was right. She’s spellbinding.
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). Its violence is intense, though not graphic, and some of its images are quite scary.
