"Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban"

Hippogriffs, Dementors and Harry, oh my! Director Alfonso Cuaron finally decants the essence of J.K. Rowling's work and brings us one of the greatest fantasy films of all time.

By Stephanie Zacharek

Jun 3, 2004 | The essence of romanticism, said the German writer E.T.A. Hoffman, is "infinite longing." With the marvelous "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," J.K. Rowling's work has finally gotten the romantic filmmaker it deserves.

Rowling's series of books about a young orphan and wizard-in-training named Harry Potter -- "The Prisoner of Azkaban" is the third -- are nothing if not romantic works. Of their numerous intertwined themes, infinite longing rates pretty high: Harry's parents, a witch and a wizard, were killed when he was an infant, and he constantly wonders what they were like, and whether he's anything like them -- he longs to know. In the first book of the series, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone," Harry glimpses them in a magic mirror, standing behind his reflection: "The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness."

Director Alfonso Cuarón didn't get to dramatize that sequence: The movie versions of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" and of the second book, "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets," were both directed by Chris Columbus, who was doggedly faithful to Rowling's plots but singularly graceless in translating their syncopated lyricism to the screen. But "The Prisoner of Azkaban" is the first true Harry Potter movie -- the first to capture not only the books' sense of longing, but their understanding of the way magic underlies the mundane, instead of just prancing fancifully at a far remove from it. In the spirit of a true romantic, Cuarón knows that the secret to great fantasy is naturalism.

In "The Prisoner of Azkaban" 13-year-old Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), just before returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his third year, learns that a dangerous wizard and mass murderer, Sirius Black (Gary Oldman), has broken out of Azkaban Prison, the Alcatraz of the wizard world. Black's picture appears -- moving, like a TV news clip -- in newspapers and "Wanted" posters; he has the unkempt, unhinged look of Charles Manson, his eyes gleaming maniacally. Worse yet, Harry hears that Sirius Black is responsible for the death of his parents and is now out to kill him. Harry and his fellow students at Hogwarts -- among them his best friends, Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint) and Hermione Granger (Emma Watson), as well as the trio's sworn enemy, Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton) -- are warned that until Sirius Black has been apprehended, the school will be guarded by horrifying hooded creatures known as Dementors, Azkaban guards who have the power not just to terrify their victims but to suck their very souls from them.

The Dementors seem to have a special interest in Harry: Before he even reaches the school, a Dementor confronts him, turning the air around him cold as ice -- Harry faints, causing some of his schoolmates to taunt him, and he himself questions his bravery. But the school's new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, professor Lupin (David Thewlis), understands why the Dementors have singled Harry out. He agrees to teach Harry how to fight them, so Harry will be freer to enjoy normal schoolboy pursuits like divination lessons and Quidditch matches. Lupin also has a link with Harry's past, which makes him particularly protective of the boy.

Next Page: The Dementors: Not for the diaper set

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