Teenage Wasteland.

Second on the weekend bill was David Yates’ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, the sixth installment of the series (and Yates’ second directorial outing after 2007’s Order of the Phoenix.) On one hand, this year at Hogwarts is a deftly-made piece of work, and probably the most accomplished and filmic of the Potter movies (tho’ I still prefer Goblet of Fire overall.) But, on the other hand, Yates and the assembled cast are just gathering steam right as the source material is petering out. I racked my brains before the movie trying to remember anything about Half-Blood Prince the novel, and basically came up with the ending, “Slughorn,” “Harry’s Potions book,” and “Dumbledore drinks the crap.” These four things do not a movie make, particularly not a 150 minute movie like this one. You can pad it out with Quidditch and/or various adenoidal episodes on the Big Three’s part, but Half-Blood Prince — the movie like the tome — still feels somewhat overlong, unnecessary, and redundant.

Part 6 of the Harry Potter saga starts in media res — so much so that it feels like Yates & co. have basically given up on the non-readers — with a trio of the Dark Lord’s Death Eaters openly attacking London Muggles in broad daylight. Yes, it’s gotten that bad. But the potential Chosen One (Daniel Radcliffe) has his mind on other matters at the moment — mainly, getting to know the cute waitress at the local station cafe once her shift ends. Alas for Harry, Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) apparates into the scene and bigfoots that plan relatively quickly — Instead, he enlists young Potter in an scheme to entice former Prof. Horace Slughorn (Jim Broadbent) back into the Hogwarts fold. (Slughorn is an inveterate namedropper, and thus susceptible to Harry’s influence. That being said, the dance of seduction here all seems a bit more unsavory when viewed rather than read.)

Anyway, soon Harry — and Slughorn — and the rest of the gang have all returned to Hogwarts (with the exception of those schoolboys in disgrace, the Weasley twins, who are now making a mint in Diagon Alley.) But the darkness all around has now seeped even into Fortress Dumbledore — students become bewitched, various assassination attempts go awry, and the scion of Slytherin in particular, Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton), seems to be under more strain than usual. Perhaps worse still for the gang, the trickle of teenage sensuality seen in Goblet and Order has swollen to a torrent, and Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint), and Hermione (Emma Watson) are now in the full hormone-fueled throes of adolescence. Honestly, after all the pregnant looks, strange urges, and attempted snoggings in the first hour, I half-expected Harry to whip out an ID named “McLovin'” and try to score some butterbeer.

The kids all acquit themselves well enough given the modicum of plot this time around. Still, with all due respect to the teens, the secret weapon of the Potterverse on film remains the long and growing list of distinguished British thespians on hand. From the starting cast (Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, Robbie Coltrane, Warwick Davis, David Bradley, Mark Williams and Julie Walters) to the later pick-ups (Michael Gambon, David Thewlis, Helen McCrory, Evanna Lynch), Half-Blood Prince is stocked to the gills with well-done character turns. The only person who noticeably stuck out as bad was Helena Bonham Carter — She’s wayyy over the top (again) and may be refining her Queen of Hearts here. (I also would’ve liked to have seen He Who Must Not Be Named at some point over the film, but I suspect he’ll be back for the next two installments.)

That being said, the best thing about Half-Blood Prince is probably Jim Broadbent’s turn as Slughorn. At first, he just seemed to be doing a slightly toned-down variation of his “snip, snip, slice, slice” cameo in Brazil. But Broadbent manages to infuse the character with a melancholy I never took away from his more glad-handing, Falstaffian persona in the book. This should’ve been the “Half-Blood Prince’s” movie, really (or Dumbledore’s, for that matter) — but, particularly given the notable absence of the high adventure or puzzle-solving plot dynamics of earlier Potter tales, it’s Broadbent’s haunted sense of regret here that leaves a mark after the credits roll.

Life and Death Experiences.

Plenty of variety in this weekend’s trailer bin: 28 Weeks Later‘s Jeremy Renner is the man you call if you’re in the Green Zone with a bomb on hand in the trailer for Kathryn Bigelow’s warmly-reviewed The Hurt Locker, also with Anthony Mackie, Brian Geraghty, Evangeline Lilly, Ralph Fiennes, David Morse, and Guy Pearce.

A foolproof inside job at an armored truck company presumably goes horribly wrong in the new trailer for Nimrol Antal’s Armored, with Matt Dillon, Jean Reno, Laurence Fishburne, Skeet Ulrich, Amary Nolasco, Milo Ventimiglia, and the much-missed Fred Ward. Remo Williams, the adventure continues.

Young Abigail Breslin offers up her kidney to save her sibling’s life in the trailer for Nick Cassavetes’ My Sister’s Keeper, with Cameron Diaz, Jason Patric, Alec Baldwin, Sofia Vassileva, and Joan Cusack. (Not really my cup of tea, but you never know. Hopefully, it goes better than this plan did in A Christmas Tale.)

Escort (and adult film star) Sasha Grey foregoes Craigslist for more Spitzer-type fare in the trailer for Steven Soderbergh’s The Girlfriend Experience. (Which reminds me, the four-hour version of Che just made it here, although I haven’t partaken yet. Kind of a heady time commitment and all that.)

Finally, even the Muggle world is threatened by the darkening clouds of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the most recent trailer for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, with Jim Broadbent’s Horace Slughorn joining the usual Hogwarts suspects. Yeah, I’m in.

The Summer Contenders.

“I’ve been waiting for this day my whole life, this day of reckoning.” Some choice offerings from the rest of the Watchmen trailer bin, which are now online: Harry digs deep into the memory hole to Anakin up He-Who Must-Not-Be-Named in the second preview for David Yates’ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. (To be honest, I think I might’ve missed the first trailer from last November (at the same link) — that one’s not bad either.) Iowan ne’er-do-well James Tiberius Kirk straightens up and flies right in a preview for J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek of epic scope. Hugh Jackman dons the claws once more in another look at Gavin Hood’s X-Men Origins: Wolverine. (Meh, bub.) And an animated Ed Asner braves floating houses, boy scouts, and talking dogs in the newest trailer for Pixar’s UP. Pixar will go wrong someday — this doesn’t look to be it.

Mudblood Aristocracy.

Don’t drink the water…With Michael Gambon looking and sounding more Gandalfian than ever, the international trailer for David Yates’ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is now online. Well, ok then.

Riddle in the Dark.

In anticipation of the HP & The Half-Blood Prince trailer, which should be on later tonight, USA Today scores two stills from the forthcoming sixth Potter film, including this one of young Tom Riddle looking Omen-ish. (Conveniently, he’s played by Hero Fiennes-Tiffin, Ralph Fiennes’ nephew.)

Update: “I can make things move without touching them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can speak to snakes too. They find me, whisper things…” And here it is. (Link sent via Raza.)

Purgatorio nel Belgio.

One part black comedy, one part gangster flick, one part Bruggian travelogue, and one part Catholic rumination on sin and mortality, In Bruges, Irish playwright Martin McDonagh’s directorial debut, is a reasonably diverting two hours in the Tarantino mold. But, while mostly entertaining throughout, and featuring a particularly good performance by Brendan Gleeson, Bruges also ended up feeling a bit too pat, in some ways. The film is definitely funny at times, but it also tries too hard to be shocking (three words should make the point: coked-up racist midget) and occasionally falls flat. And, while the ending takes an interesting turn for the baroque (or Boschian, to be more precise), In Bruges ultimately came across to me as a more worldly and Continental version of those quintessentially Tarantinoesque also-rans, Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead, 2 Days in the Valley, and Killing Zoe. Like those flicks, In Bruges isn’t a bad movie by any means, but it’s not a particularly memorable one either. And, however enjoyable at times, it feels just as derivative.

An ancient port town in the northwest corner of Belgium, Bruges, we are told early on in the film, is the “best-preserved medieval (pronounced “meddy-evil” by our Hibernian heroes) city in Europe.” It’s also the hideout for two Irish hitmen laying low(-country) after a botched job back in London. Ken (Gleeson), the older and more experienced of the duo, is enthused about the chance to sightsee, even if he senses grim portent in the fact they’re hiding out so far away. On the other hand, his partner Ray (Colin Farrell, a good actor but miscast — the part needs someone younger and dumber. Ewan Bremner, maybe?) is aghast by the place, and completely bored senseless from the moment they arrive…until he makes the company of a beautiful local drug dealer, Chloe (Clemence Poesy, best known as Fleur Delacour. Yep, it’s Fleur and Mad-Eye and…well, you’ll see.)

But even Chloe’s considerable charms — and a few drug-fueled binges with a visiting dwarf actor and his coterie of hookers — can’t take Ray’s mind off recent events. You see, the last job (offing Ciaran Hinds) took a dismal turn, innocent blood was spilled, and now Ray feels trapped in the endless purgatory of unabsolved sin. (Having recently sat through Cassandra’s Dream, where he had exactly the same problem, my advice is get over it already. This is another reason why Farrell seems miscast. He’s played too many memorably world-weary strongmen — The New World, Miami Vice, even Daredevil — to seem the aggrieved innocent here.) At any rate, Ray’s mortal screw-up doesn’t sit well with the boss of Ray and Ken’s outfit either — that would be Harry (Ralph Fiennes, playing an amalgamation of Lord Voldemort and Ben Kingsley’s character in Sexy Beast.) And eventually Harry decides to come to Bruges himself to make a reckoning. Let’s just say he’s not coming for the chocolates…

Fiennes’ wildly over-the-top Cockney crime lord is one of the funnier treats in In Bruges, and it’s almost worth the ticket just to watch him delight in being so gleefully unrestrained. (Other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, of course, and occasional roles like Spider and Red Dragon, Fiennes has — since his breakthrough in Schindler’s List — mostly got stuck in clipped-and-distant, dignified understatement mode, a la The Constant Gardener or Maid in Manhattan.) Matching him toe-to-toe is Gleeson as the voice of conscience In Bruges — I still have yet to see him give a bad performance, and even though his final scenes are rather goofy and implausible here, Gleeson sells it. He’s the heart and soul of the film.

But, even with the quality of acting on display here, there’s a quite a bit of filler in-between the better moments. McDonagh’s jokes are, frankly, hit-or-miss. Even notwithstanding some of the more obvious targets (Americans are fat and self-centered, Belgium is a “sh**hole”), McDonagh’s ear is curiously tone-deaf at times, and his attempts to be edgy and profane by pushing the un-PC envelope often sound dated and embarrassing (Note, for example, the aforementioned racist midget’s screed, Farrell’s strange seesaw analogy, or Fiennes’ AK-47 rant about South Central drive-bys. Ten points from Slytherin.) I wasn’t inherently offended by the attempts, really, but if you’re going to head down that road, at least be funny or clever. Too often, McDonagh seems to expect the shock level to do all the heavy lifting. (Another case in point, the restaurant beatdown.)

In any case, In Bruges has its moments, but I can’t advocate dropping everything to rush out to see it. If you’re the type of person who enjoys decently-made Tarantino-knockoffs, or actors playing against type a la Sexy Beast, add it to the Netflix queue. Otherwise, I’d hold off. I’m sure somebody will make another film about lovely, historic Bruges, a few more centuries hence.

Lowlifes, Meet Lowlands.

“If I grew up in a farm, and I was retarded, Bruges might impress me. But I didn’t, so it doesn’t!” As seen in front of Juno, two Irish gangsters hide out in deepest, darkest Belgium in the trailer for Martin McDonagh’s crime-comedy In Bruges. Ralph Fiennes may be overdoing Ben Kingsley’s Sexy Beast schtick just a bit, but I do like the idea of a Colin Farrell-Brendan Gleeson buddy movie, and it looks like Clemence Poesy (i.e. Fleur Delacour) and Ciaran Hinds (of Munich and Margot) are skulking about as well.

The Dark is Rising.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, director David Yates’ take on the fifth installment of J.K. Rowling’s (soon-to-be-completed!) series, is, I’m happy to report, a somber, suspenseful return to the increasingly dire matters at Hogwarts, and well in keeping with the higher standard set by Alfonso Cuaron and Mike Newell in the past two movies. While I think Newell’s Goblet of Fire remains my favorite film outing thus far, this one is right up there in my estimation, and given how much less Yates had to work with, that’s rather impressive. (For all its girth, Book V felt basically like a holding action to me — the wider narrative arc didn’t progress all that much from the end of Goblet to the end of Order, and the story suffered from a wham-bang action climax that didn’t really work on paper (it comes off better on-screen.)) Indeed, Yates’ Order not only captures my most prominent impressions of the book — Harry’s burgeoning teenage moodiness, the growing sense among the students of grim times ahead and important events already set in motion — but also significantly streamlines and distills Rowling’s most-sprawling tome into two-and-a-half hours of sleek, well-paced cinema. No mean feat of magic, that.

By the start of Order, Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) is loose, Cedric Diggory is dead, and Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe), once more at the mercy of the Dursleys for the summer, is poised on the verge of adolescent rebellion. He hasn’t heard a pip from friends Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) for months, nor has he heard any news of goings-on in the magical world. So it is with no small amount of surprise and consternation that Harry finds himself first attacked by Dementors one gloomy evening, then expelled from Hogwarts — by authority of the Ministry of Magic — for using his wand to defend himself. Brought back into the magical loop by these events, Harry discovers that many of his former allies, including godfather Sirius Black (Gary Oldman), have banded together to re-form the Order of the Phoenix in preparation for Lord Voldemort’s next move. More troubling, it seems Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge (Robert Hardy) is not only not inclined to believe Harry that You-Know-Who has returned, but also views Harry and his mentor Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon), as a political threat, and has turned the general public and popular press against them both. Finally, to further complicate Potter’s prospects, Fudge dispatches one Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton) to Hogwarts with a ministry mandate to stamp out both dark sarcasm and Defense against the Dark Arts in the classroom. Thus hemmed in, Harry, Ron, and Hermione find once more they need to take matters in their own hands, and begin to defiantly assemble what they call Dumbledore’s Army, a student organization dedicated to preparing for the worst. But, all the while, Lord Voldemort is up to his own tricks…and what good is Dumbledore’s Army if its young, bespectacled leader is already hopelessly compromised by his still-unexplained connection to the Dark Lord?

As the paragraph above attests, there’re a lot of balls in the air this time around, but Yates, screenwriter Michael Goldenberg, & co. do a solid job of keeping everything moving without doing grievous harm to any of the many included subplots. (Several have been excised regardless, such as this year’s Quidditch match. No real loss, imho.) And throughout, what Order of the Phoenix gets most right — in fact, one could argue it’s actually done better here than in the book — is the feeling that things are simmering to a boil. Hermione, Ron, and especially Harry have grown from wide-eyed, trusting children to gawky, hormonal teenagers (and better actors, for that matter), seething with imminent rebellion against the powers-that-be, and their world has similarly gone from a colorful, fantastic, and ever-so-occasionally dangerous realm of magical delights to a gray, ominous land of hidden agendas, political propaganda, fallible adults, and fatal consequences. In the last movie, Harry’s Hogwarts cohort were on the threshold of early adolescence, and had just begun to discover the tantalizing mysteries of the opposite sex. Here, slightly older, they come to another classic teenage rite-of-passage: finding that the world — and, more often that not, the people in charge — aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, and that they may even actually be out to get you.

Of course, Yates is helped out tremendously in bringing Order to life by his ever-expanding Dream Team of British thespians. Imelda Staunton, as the main new cast member, is note-perfect as Umbridge. A pink-festooned, unholy cross between the Church Lady and arguably the real You-Know-Who of Rowling’s books, Margaret Thatcher, she’s like something out of a Roger Waters fever dream (and continues the “The Tories are Coming!” subtext I noted in my review of the last movie.) Even with Staunton aside, tho’, Order is packed to the brim with quality actors reprising their roles from the first four films — Oldman, Hardy, Brendan Gleeson, Maggie Smith, Michael Gambon, Emma Thompson, Jason Isaacs, Robbie Coltrane, etc., and particularly Fiennes and Alan Rickman. They’re all excellent, and frankly it’s good fun just to see so many of them around again to help further flesh out the Potterverse. (Although, having seen Naked and The History Boys since Goblet, I’m slightly more concerned about Harry hanging around the likes of Remus Lupin (David Thewlis) and Vernon Dursley (Richard Griffiths)…what would the Umbridges of the world have to say about that?)

Dumbledore’s Army.

Alert the Ministry: The new trailer for David Yates’ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is now online, albeit not in the best format. Looks…ok, although I’d be surprised if it lives up to Newell’s Goblet of Fire (or even Cuaron’s Prisoner, since Order may have been my least favorite book in the series thus far.) Update: It’s now available in Quicktime — go here instead.

Call to Order.

Ready for another year at Hogwarts? The new teaser for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix which I mentioned on Friday is now online.