When David Yates joined the Harry Potter series halfway through, as the director of its fifth instalment, his main prior experience was in TV — quite a change from the series’ track record, which had included acclaimed or successful movie directors. But he seemed a wise choice nonetheless: one of his stand-out works on TV was State of Play, a complex conspiracy series that suggested he’d be the right man to handle Order of the Phoenix for two reasons. Firstly, the novel includes a significant ‘resistance thriller’ aspect, similar to the edgy underground-investigation style of State of Play. Secondly, the lengthy novel was to be condensed into a single reasonable-length film, necessitating an ability to tell a story clearly and concisely. State of Play may not have been concise (it’s a six-hour story, after all), but it was complicated and it was clear.
The resulting film is, arguably, one of the series’ strongest because it is so different to the others. If the much-discussed ‘darkening’ of the films really kicked in with Goblet of Fire and the death of Cedric Diggory, Phoenix only cements this tone. Our heroes are persecuted throughout — and not just the lead kids, but Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts establishment too, as a Ministry of Magic in denial about the return of Voldemort seeks to crush the dissenting voices of Harry and his headmaster.
Their main weapon is Dolores Umbridge, perhaps the series’ most despicable villain, because she is so horrendously plausible. She seems to be all sweetness and light, but it masks a dangerous streak that sees her eliminate any fun from the school and, in one of the most sadistic sequences in either the novels or the films, she has Harry write lines with a magic quill that cuts each one into the skin of his left hand. The Potter series actually has its share of nuanced villains, but Umbridge is thoroughly unlikeable. Though she’s defeated and carted off at the end of Phoenix, she resurfaces in Deathly Hallows. I don’t recall if her final fate is expounded upon, on page or screen, but I’d quite like to see her ripped to shreds.
In one of the numerous special features on the Harry Potter Blu-rays, producer David Heyman notes that most directors finish a film of Potter’s scope and want a rest, or at least a change of pace. It’s why Alfonso Cuarón and Mike Newell only have one each to their name; it’s why the Bond films haven’t had two back-to-back entries from the same director since the ’80s; and so on. Not so Yates, however, who ended Phoenix hungry for more. Or hungry to establish a film career, take your pick. And so he also took on the next film, Half-Blood Prince.
It’s easy to accuse Half-Blood Prince of being all prelude to the climactic events of Deathly Hallows; it certainly feels that way first time through. There’s considerably more to it than that, even if the titular mystery is barely a subplot — especially in the film version where, once again, the sheer length of the novel necessitates massive cuts to the source text. But perhaps the most remarkable thing is how funny the film is. Between the return of Voldemort, the suspicion cast on Harry, and a devastating final battle, Phoenix is an incredibly gloomy film; as things roll towards the climax, packed with more deaths and villain victories, Deathly Hallows is too; and sandwiched in between, with one of the saga’s most gut-wrenching finales, you’d think Half-Blood Prince would be more of the same.
But not so. Yates approached his follow-up with a stated aim of introducing more comedy, believing the three leads to be talented in that area but not having had a chance to show it in his dour first film. So here we get a whole subplot given over to Ron’s attempts to join the Quidditch team, as well as much focus on the trio’s romantic entanglements — teenage love always being a good topic for humour. The film is not without its dark side, but peppered liberally throughout are those comedic subplots and scenes that are liable to see the viewer laugh perhaps more than in any other Potter film. It’s easy to miss this element — the main plot is, as always, getting darker and more serious — but once it’s been highlighted (as the makers do in the film’s special features) I think it becomes very noticeable.
Perhaps the other most notable aspect of Half-Blood Prince is the cinematography. Like most of cinema throughout the ’00s, the Harry Potter series shows a gradual shift from a very filmic look, to digital intermediates, to (in some cases) a wholly digital output. This is where it becomes most notable, I feel, with many sequences (especially those involving extensive CGI, like the Quidditch) graded and smoothed to the point where they look almost like a concept art painting rather than a real-life sequence. This is especially obvious if you watch any clip-laden series-spanning documentary, where Half-Blood Prince clips rub shoulders with any previous film and stand out like a sore thumb; but even in the movie itself, without that outside context, it’s sometimes highly noticeable.
The other thing it is is dark — not the story, but the visuals. This reaches its nadir in Deathly Hallows (both parts), which include some shots so dark it looks like some light-black shapes may, perhaps, if you squint and strain, be moving over some dark-black shapes. It’s ridiculous. I have no idea if it functioned OK in the cinema, but on a TV at home it most definitely does not. This seems to be a growing trend in films, though the Potter finale contains some of the worst examples I’ve yet seen. I don’t know the reason, but I presume it’s a tech thing — cameras that can function better in low light; 
grading the film in perfectly-calibrated conditions so they can really push it to extremes, not considering how most end-users will view it; and, much like fast-cut action scenes, an over-familiarity with the material that means the director/editor/grader can see what’s going on because they’ve watched it dozens (or hundreds) of times, which doesn’t work for a first-time viewer in the middle of the film. As you may be able to guess, I’m not a fan.
By the time of these final two films, it seems Yates has moved from being a TV director skilled in complex plotting, to one very much at home with big effects-driven set pieces. The Battle of Hogwarts, which consumes around 90 minutes of the final film, is an epic and often jaw-dropping affair, though still laced through with the final plot developments and the completion of various character arcs. That said, it’s far from perfect, undermined by a pair of apparently opposing sets of decisions: on the one hand, to flesh out fan-favourite moments to give them too much emphasis (Mrs Weasley’s duel with Bellatrix is over-played; Harry and Voldemort’s final confrontation is amped up to the point it loses the book’s emotion); on the other, slavish faithfulness leaving some moments without enough emphasis.
The biggest crime of the latter is the very end: the battle over, Harry, Ron and Hermione stand outside Hogwarts, survey some of the damage, have a little chat… and then it abruptly cuts to a couple of decades later for the epilogue. For me, it doesn’t feel as if there’s enough space there, enough time to breathe, to consider the impact on the series’ supporting cast — many of them favourite characters, as vitally important to the viewer as they are to the lead trio. How will the Weasleys cope with their losses? What about those others who have lost almost everyone they hold dear? Where have the Malfoys gone? There are nods to this in a montage around the Great Hall / makeshift mortuary, but it feels underplayed; like we need a scene of life-goes-on normality set a few weeks or months later, 
not a sudden smash-cut to a few decades on where we see how some characters’ lives have developed. I know some people complain about Lord of the Rings’ multitudinous endings but, one, they’re wrong, and two, Potter only has one and an epilogue — sure, the first completes the drive of the storyline and the second is a neat coda, but in between I feel we need more of a character-based resolution.
But hey-ho, it is what it is.
In the end, the TV director hired for a very specific filmmaking skill wound up in charge of exactly half the Harry Potter series. If there was a half to have a single voice in charge of, it’s this one, with one long narrative permeating the films in a way it doesn’t the first four. And yet, for that, each has a distinctive style and voice — well, apart from the two parts of Deathly Hallows, which are really one long film split into halves. Was it the right move, for the series? It clearly produced popular movies, but, thanks to the storyline, it’s already easy to regard the Potter series as four or five stories rather than seven, the last three books merging into one epic tale in three acts — a trilogy, if you will — rather than discrete stories, like the first four. By putting the same man behind the camera for them all, the films just emphasise this point. But maybe that doesn’t matter.
It’s hard to offer a final summary of the Harry Potter series. Some people see them as mediocre and overblown; for others, they are their life. Personally, I think they develop from sometimes-uncertain roots in the early films, to a flourishing series of epic fantasy movies. There are often niggles of one kind or another, be it acting (I forgot to discuss Emma Watson’s eyebrows!), or cartoonish designs, or too-faithful adaptation, or abbreviated adaptation, or what have you — but none of these are ever-present. More importantly, every film offers something to enjoy, and the growing maturity — of not only the cast, but also the filmmaking — means their impact only increases when viewed as an entire eight-film saga.
One for the ages? Movie and genre fans of a certain age might say, “don’t be so daft”; but I wouldn’t be so certain.
#44 The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)
#48a Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010)
The clear victor is the Alfonso Cuarón-helmed franchise-revitalising third film, 
You can’t have a list of great car chases without including at least one Bond. Indeed, I could easily fill this top five with that series alone. TND wins because of two stand-out sequences: Bond driving a BMW saloon around a car park in Germany, which sounds dull as dishwater… except he does it via remote control and the car is stacked with gadgets; and a motorbike vs helicopter chase on the streets — and rooftops — of Saigon.
To bring extra swish and excitement, the Fast & Furious films often use CGI in their car chases. Ronin, however, does it all for real — often with the actual actors in the cars. There are several chases in Ronin, but the extended climax through the tunnels of Paris is of course the best. The film used 300 stunt drivers and they wrecked 80 cars, but the exhilaration provided is entirely worth it.
Many times, a great sequence is born out of an idea to innovate or do something different (to go back to Tomorrow Never Dies, the bike chase was a deliberate counterpoint to GoldenEye’s tank chase), and the first Jason Bourne film is no exception: he’s in a Mini! Americans always find small cars striking (see also: Da Vinci Code’s Smart car), but at least it’s put to good use — he drives it down some stairs!
For sheer throw-everything-at-the-screen bombast, you can’t beat the car sequence in the first Matrix sequel — it was so big, they had to build their own stretch of freeway! Of course, it’s as much about the fighting going on in and around the cars as it is the chase, and there are bikes and lorries and stuff involved too — including a spectacular head-on collision — but it’s all road-based, so it counts.
I wanted to avoid having two Bond films, and I tried, but I couldn’t think of anything significantly better than the opening minutes of 2008’s widely maligned Bond adventure. Cut like lightning, almost intuitive and impressionistic rather than classically clear, and viscerally destructive throughout, it demands your attention — and indicates the kind of pace the rest of the film will move at. Then the reveal at the end makes it all the sweeter.
Read most lists of the greatest car chases and one of these will be at the top, usually with the other in second place. They’re iconic for different reasons: there’s The French Connection’s frantic illicitly-filmed chase between Gene Hackman and Brooklyn’s elevated railway; and there’s Bullitt’s eleven-minute pursuit around the streets of San Francisco, with Steve McQueen and co gaining plenty of in-car air-time on those famous stepped hills. So iconic, I know this much without having seen either.
#38a 
You might have expected Batman & Robin to top this list. It would be a fair choice. But, believe it or not, it actually has some redeeming features. Not many, but some. This woefully unimaginative spoof has none whatsoever. I’m not even sure it had any laughs. OK, it might not be a ‘real’ superhero movie… but then again, look at the title. It counts.
These days, it’s difficult to imagine Hollywood managing to kill off a franchise they didn’t want to. Even those which are consistently a bit rubbish. I imagine this is where they learnt their lesson, turning a reliable cash cow into a despised monstrosity. How the genre got back on its feet just a few years later (and grew stronger than ever) is a minor miracle.
I really wanted to like this — a great concept, based on a great comic, with great people involved in the film — and on its release, I convinced myself I did. But it’s a bit of a mess really, isn’t it; and the needs of being a PG-13 blockbuster wrecked a lot of the comic’s best ideas. Shame. (It has left me always abbreviating the comic’s title as LXG too, though.)
I don’t actually know that much about the Punisher, but I don’t believe this is a very good rendition of the comic (where’s the skull emblem?!). And even if it is, it isn’t a very good film. I’ve largely wiped it from my memory, but I recall it being the twin sins of boring and amateurishly made. The two ’00s movies starring the character didn’t go down well, but I can’t imagine they’re worse.
A lot of people didn’t like Daredevil. I did. It has flaws, certainly, but it got a lot right. Nonetheless, I had no particular hopes for this spin-off featuring a fan-favourite character who had been mediocrely rendered on screen first time out (and not recast). Low expectations were good, because it’s a mess that doesn’t deliver in any notable respect.
There are many great superhero movies, but this is an undervalued one. Coming in the genre’s quiet period, between the death of the Batman franchise and the rebirth afforded by X-Men, I think this all-star comedy would fare better today. That said, I’ve not seen it for years, and sometimes comedy dates badly, so maybe I should’ve re-watched before putting it here… But I definitely did love it.
(described by no less than Terry Pratchett as “the funniest science fiction book ever written”), and he’s trying to fund it through 
What’s on offer varies from project to project, of course. In 
Of course. Some would argue it’s cheating to include an entire trilogy as one film, but Jackson made it as one film and it’s really a single tale that has to be divided to make it possible in cinemas, both financially and for the sake of the audience’s posteriors. But I’ve watched it in a single sitting, something I’ve not managed with some much shorter works, so that makes it OK by me. And I’ve spent all my words here saying that because, really, do you need me to tell you why this tops the list? (Not that this is a ranked list. But if it were, this would top it.)
I did think my main rule for this list would be “set at least partly in an alternate world” (see things like Narnia and Stardust), but that would rule out Harry Potter (which is clearly Fantasy) and this. If we’re talking swords-and-sorcery, this definitely has swords and it probably has sorcery too. How else do you explain immortality? Except with some BS sci-fi claptrap in the sequels that no one, not even their makers, wants to remember. It may be campy and ever so ’80s, with the most hilarious array of mismatched accents ever committed to film, but goodness me do I love it.
A modern, British-tinged take on the tone of The Princess Bride — two elements that give this the edge, for me. It’s also less of a spoof, more of a straight take on a fantasy adventure with an awareness of the comical and a resolute lack of po-faced-ness. There’s a reason Neil Gaiman’s a beloved author, and there’s a reason Matthew Vaughn is a mainstream filmmaker we should all keep a very close eye on.
This is a bit of a cheat, because it’s actually a two-part miniseries… but in its entirety it’s shorter than Return of the King, and for some inexplicable reason is 
If Merlin was a bit of a cheat, this is a great big one, because The 10th Kingdom is actually a seven-hour miniseries. But tough, because I love it and it’s not well enough known. Here in the UK it aired on Sky back in the days before I had said channel, and so my first encounter was through 
Quite what inspired this turn-of-the-millennium wannabe-blockbuster I don’t know — it came out the year before the double-whammy genre kick-start of Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter… but it feels much more than a single year older. It’s not all bad — some of the scenic effects shots are quite good, and there’s a certain joy in Jeremy Irons’ ludicrously campy performance — but, mostly, it is. The CGI is dreadful, the acting isn’t any better, and the location work makes it look like Power Rangers. If it wasn’t bad enough in itself (which it was), the glossy quality of Rings and Potter just 12 months later revitalised the genre to the point that this was blissfully consigned to ignominious oblivion.
#17 Final Destination 5 (2011)
This honour was widely seen as recognising the whole trilogy, and really my inclusion is for the same reason — I love all the Lord of the Rings films, but if I had to pick a favourite it would be Fellowship. That The Hobbit didn’t get anywhere near the Best Picture nods this season gives it a faint ring of The Godfather Part III: belated and misguided. Though even Coppola’s threequel got a nomination.
Speak of the devil… I really need to re-watch the Godfather trilogy, so I can’t offer much insightful comment, but I’m one of those people who sides with Part I being better than Part II. I found Michael’s descent into the family more engaging than… what, his consolidation of power? Is that what happened? (I really do need to re-watch them.) Plus, you can’t beat a bit of Brando.
I love an epic — indeed, the average length of my three choices so far is 2 hours 34 minutes — and in many respects Gone with the Wind is the ultimate epic, a tale that sprawls through time and across locations, but with the relationship between two individuals at its heart. And it beat The Wizard of Oz to the prize, which is a bonus.
As with The Godfather, I need to re-watch this. It was one of the first Westerns I saw and I think it would benefit from the improved understanding of the genre I now have. Equally, it was instrumental in transforming a type of film I’d previously ignored (not through any conscious effort) in to one I enjoy. (There’s a whole article to write on modern mass perception of Westerns, but that’s for another day.)
For all the talk of the Academy always getting it wrong, there are numerous times they’ve got it right. Or, at least, near as dammit. Which made choosing just five hard, but I’ve chosen this to try and balance things out — I don’t only like epics that mostly feature some kind of war (this was very nearly Schindler’s List). Woody Allen on form is great fun, and this is that. I liked Manhattan more though.
There’s a lot of love for this movie in some circles — it’s ranked 
#1 Underworld: Awakening (2012)
#6 Dredd (2012)
Fans have waited decades for a decent cinematic translation of the iconic 2000 AD lawman, and they finally got it last year. The filmmakers mooted a trilogy; the pathetic US box office take seemed to put the brakes on that; but now it’s doing great business on DVD and Blu-ray. Who knows if we’ll get a sequel, then, but the exciting future world depicted in the first film deserves further exploration.
Another mooted trilogy that seems to be in limbo — when you look into the first film, no obvious quotes crop up denying a sequel, but the first was released in 2010 and there’s no sign of a follow-up being in the works. I don’t know how well it went down in its native France, but I thought it was a daft, exciting, funny entertainment and I’d love to see more.
A sequel has been on and off ever since 
I don’t really mean a sequel to 
M. Night Shyamalan’s leftfield take on the superhero genre is, for my money, the best of his films. Ever since it first came out he’s talked about how the entire movie was originally just act one of a longer piece, and that he might produce the rest as the next two films in a trilogy. Instead, he’s made numerous unrelated but 
As Christopher Nolan 
21 Jump Street
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
Django Unchained
Hitchcock
Lincoln
The Pirates! in an Adventure with Scientists
Ted
100Films.co.uk 