Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkabanreview by Peter T. Chattaway |
posted 6/04/2004
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Michael Gambon as Dumbledore
But Rowling introduces another concept in The Prisoner of Azkaban that might not be so easy to explain away. In this story, Harry and his friends attend a course in divination taught by the loopy Professor Trelawney (Emma Thompson); exercises include gazing into crystal balls, reading palms, and studying tea leaves. For the most part, Trelawney and her lessons are held up to ridicule—Hermione, the most intellectual of Harry's friends, dismisses divination as a "woolly discipline." But the mere existence of this class at Hogwarts, combined with the fact that one of Trelawney's prophecies is uttered under eerie circumstances and does come true, may be enough to convince some Christians that the Harry Potter stories are up to no good. Spoilers prohibit me from saying more about this, but suffice to say that Christian interpretations of the Trelawney scenes range from those who think they provide the clearest evidence of demonic activity in Rowling's world, despite the fact that Rowling has never made demons a part of her sub-creation (see Richard Abanes's Harry Potter and the Bible), to those who think they expose the folly of superstitious beliefs (see Connie Neal's The Gospel According to Harry Potter).
The deeper problem with these books is their questionable, and highly subjective, morality. The Prisoner of Azkaban does contain at least one noteworthy object lesson in the difference between humility and arrogance, when Hagrid (Robbie Coltrane), the newly appointed professor in charge of magical beasts, introduces his students to a hippogriff (a creature that is half-horse, half-eagle) and tells them they must respect its "pride" if they want to go for a ride on its back; Harry approaches the hippogriff humbly, his neck bowed, and is rewarded with a fantastic flight over the school grounds, while Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton), the school bully, swaggers right up to the creature and is promptly attacked. But Harry's virtues are lacking in other areas. He exhibits a flagrant disregard for the rules, even when they have been put there for his own safety, and nearly always seems to get away with it; it is also particularly disturbing to see the "heroes" of this story, including Harry himself, so eager to kill the man who betrayed Harry's parents. Harry manages to exchange his anger for mercy at the last possible moment, but his change of heart seems more like a passing whim than the result of a deeper transformation in the way he thinks and feels.
That change may yet come. The Prisoner of Azkaban is the third in a projected seven-part series, and it is too early to say where this character's arc will take him in the end. What we can say at this point is that Cuarón has produced the most terrifying and darkly humorous movie adaptation of Rowling's stories to date—his use of the Whomping Willow to convey the passing of the seasons is especially amusing—and he has given it a visual flair that was sorely missing in the previous installments. The Dementors are especially creepy—not quite as frightening as the Nazgul at their worst in Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings films, but more consistently scary than Jackson's creations, which occasionally seemed like the actors in costumes that they were. Most remarkably, despite the fact that he was adapting the longest of the first three books, Cuarón has turned out the shortest and most briskly paced film of the lot. If anything, the film may be too brisk—it leaves out a fair bit of material, particularly regarding Harry's father and his friends, that could have clarified the connections between certain characters and objects. But overall, this film is perhaps the most entertaining opportunity that children and adults have had yet to practice their gifts of discernment in all things Potter.
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