As anyone who follows my year-end lists can attest, I firmly believe that it is possible for a film to be good yet still be overrated. So it is we come to the third Harry Potter film, which is often referred to as 'the only good one' or 'the arty one' or 'the only cinematic one' and other such rubbish. I am not going to get into the reasons why certain film critics and film snobs hold this third chapter is such high esteem compared to the others, but I'd wager that a big part of it comes from an elitist attitude towards original helmer Chris Columbus, combined with a certain snobbery directed in favor of director Alfonso Cuaron. Point being, while this third Harry Potter picture does branch out a bit in several positive directions, it also undermines itself and the eventual fifth film by failing to properly develop its most important new character. As a result of this, while it may be one of the more stand-alone of the pictures, it flirts with irrelevancy in the ongoing narrative despite technically jump-starting that very mythology.
Unlike the first two pictures, the central conflict is detailed almost immediately. Sirius Black (Gary Oldman) has broken out of Azkaban and is apparently coming to Hogwarts to murder Harry Potter. That relatively simply hook is used as a clothesline for which to hang a relatively character-driven story. Most of the plot occurs in the third act, and even less happens when you realize that much of the climax is simply a time-travel replay of earlier events (Gosh, I hope Harry and Hermione find the sports almanac in time!). But in place of action and adventure comes a genuinely compelling relationship between Harry Potter and Professor Lupin (David Thewlis). In fact, in light of the lack of development given to Sirius Black, the moments between Harry and Lupin are the only portions of the picture that truly resonate.
Yes, there is a terrific Quidditch match set in the blinding rain (one that does not annoyingly interrupt the ongoing narrative for once) and it's fun to see Harry and the gang treating Hogwarts less like a boarding school and more like college (this is the first time they spend large portions of the film without their uniforms). But, save for a moment where Hermione punches Draco in the face, the film lacks character moments for its young supporting cast. And while Harry Potter gets his first 'big' emotional moment at the halfway point (where he pledges to kill the man who allegedly sold out his parents to Voldemort), it's not his best acting by a long shot (Radcliffe has always looked more comfortable with slow-burner anger or subtle righteousness than 'for your consideration' outbursts). Unless you're truly invested in the budding friendship between Radcliffe and Lupin, there's little to hold onto until the last act of the film.
But Lupin does have the advantage of being played by David Thewliss. I was a huge fan of his since Dragonheart (and then, yes, The Island of Dr. Moreau) so it was a thrill to see this undervalued character actor get a major part in a big franchise such as this and run with it. And the film is indeed the first where the grownups get to act as well. More or less confined to delivering exposition and/or platitudes and insults, the Hogwarts authority figures get to play this time. The third-act confrontation is a joy to behold, if only because we realize that we're watching Gary Oldman, Alan Rickman, David Thewliss, and Timothy Spall all pointing wands at each other and hamming it up. Rickman gets to do more than be a bully for at least one major scene, and it's the most 'acting' he'll get until Half-Blood Prince. And of course, Michael Gambon debuts as Dumbledore, taking over after Richard Harris's death. His heavy lifting won't come until the next film, but he gets a few moments of knowing whimsy this time around. So yes, it must be acknowledged that this is a more character-centric film as opposed to the plot-centric second chapter, even if Harry himself doesn't necessarily have an arc.
It is also indeed an artier film than the introductory chapters, less overtly stagebound and more freewheeling and overtly zany. And for that, Cuaron does deserve credit for a marginally more-cinematic entry. But much of the credit belongs to the source material itself. Prisoner of Azkaban is considered one of the better books and part of that is because it deviates from the standard Harry Potter template in a notable way. There is no big villain to defeat and no major plots to unravel and stop. The year at Hogwarts is a relatively peaceful one, with the biggest problem being the fate of Hagrid's favorite pet. The book (and thus the film) opens up the mythology in a major way, but I must argue that the film drops the ball in this respect. Put simply, Gary Oldman doesn't have nearly enough to do, and much of his scenes with Harry Potter are cut from the film. As a result, the instantly close relationship between Harry and his godfather is merely taken for granted, since the two of them have only a fleeting conversation at the end of the film.
This is one of the shorter pictures in the series, and its frankly inexplicable that Cuaron and/or screenwriter Steven Kloves would decide that the Sirius Black character moments should be sacrificed for length. Of course, it starts an unfortunate pattern that pops up occasionally in the later chapters (especially Half-Blood Prince), where the Kloves and director David Yates seem to choose just the wrong material to omit. Also frustrating is the fact that this is arguably the only film in the series where you really need to have read the book to understand a major onscreen event. Unless you know about the whole 'animagus' gimmick (IE - certain wizards have animal personas), you have no idea why Harry Potter thinks he sees his father at the finale of the film (he of course sees a deer, which was his father's animagus and apparently his as well). As a result, the film violates one of the clear rules of adaptation: you shouldn't have to read the book to understand the movie.
Nitpicks and adaptation issues aside, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is still a fine stand-alone fantasy film, one that boasts a token increase in cinematic splendor and a wonderfully warm star turn by David Thewliss. It is still a good time spent with good company, and it fits right in with the rest of the series while working as its own film and arguably as a good jumping-in spot for those who have a disdain for overtly kid-friendly fantasy films. The story is more intimate and personal than the later epics, and it remains one last kid-friendly adventure before we start seeing real body counts in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It may not be the best film in the franchise, and it sure as hell isn't 'the only good one', but Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is still a darn solid entry and a pretty terrific 'part III' as far as second sequels go.
Scott Mendelson
