Written by Steven Allison
There were countless things to love about Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them – so much so that I’ve watched it just shy of ten times now. And I’ve been hard-pushed to source (I’m sure there’s some wordplay to be had with sorcery here) anyone who would argue otherwise.
The first spin-off from the dynamite Harry Potter franchise – and prequel to it – was totally spellbinding, if alone for Eddie Redmayne’s winning turn as the ever-so charming, adorkable Newt Scamander. But that might be my intense crush on Redmayne talking. Even if that’s the case, then the director David Yates’ enchanting, parallel-universe take on a recognisable yet whimsical, muggle-meets-magic 1920s New York is more than strong enough to prop the film up. Naturally, as the title would suggest, the wonderful assortment of beasts themselves did an absolutely wizard job at stealing the show.
The Crimes of Grindelwald is another story altogether. It appears that Yates and J.K. Rowling – who, of course, penned the screenplay – were placed under a tedium incantation while working on this second instalment of the series. In both technical and thematic terms, it’s a rather clumsy, busy and bloated mess that fails to mesmerise – I definitely heard snoring somewhere in the audience. The grubby allure of Manhattan is lost as we’re transported – sans broomstick – to London and Paris, neither of which quite cut it as backdrops. And those aren’t the only problems.
The beasts, which bizarrely get far less screen time than they deserve, play second fiddle to all the exasperating – if slightly dazzling – wizardly theatricals. Essentially, the beasts have become a bit of a Kathy Griffin. In all fairness though, Newt isn’t conducting research for his book on magical beasts this time around, so perhaps this should have been expected. Anyway, Newt’s niffler – a mischievous platypus-like creature and a firm fan favourite – manages to sniff his way into our hearts once again.
The film was also plagued by a whiff of controversy, but it’s best to steer clear of discussing the details of that – we wouldn’t want any spoilers now, would we? Let’s simply say that none of it is significant enough to influence judgement of the final product.
Despite its flaws, The Crimes of Grindelwald has about enough heat to keep the cauldron bubbling. Redmayne reprises his role with all the same quirkily-garbed gawkiness, continuing his bashful fondness for the faintly hard-bitten Tina (Katherine Waterston) – she may be the only woman who could tumble to his unconventional flirtations. After much deliberation, he decides to tell her she has “the eyes of a salamander” and she absolutely eats it up. To be honest, now that I think about it, I probably would too.
Aside from a spot of erroneous casting with the tepid Jude Law as a young Albus Dumbeldore, every performance was laced in Potter-lexicon perfection. Ezra Miller is back as the sepulchral, brooding Credence Barebone; Johnny Depp is unsurprisingly Johnny Deppy as the eerie, twisted Grindelwald; and what would any sequel to Fantastic Beasts be without the kittenish Queenie (Alison Sudol) and the jocular Jacob (Dan Fogler)?
Because the first Fantastic Beasts offering was such a marvellous funfair ride of an experience, it was so easy to ignore something that has become painfully clear with this sequel – that the series is somewhat of a vanity project; a humdrum effort by Rowling to eke out the legacy of her beloved Harry Potter franchise. The Crimes of Grindelwald ends abruptly with a major cliff-hanger, which opens the door for a third iteration. At this point of the game, even those of us whose interest has waned have invested so much time in these outstanding characters that we’ll likely head to the cinema to see what trajectory Potterverse holds for them.
