A screenplay is quite a different creature than a novel, and
it’s usually interesting to see an author attempt to bridge the gap. In the
case of J.K. Rowling, the creative and commercial lure of her Harry Potter world has led her to trade
books for scripts as she attempts to expand the fantasy in new directions. She
goes back in time for a prequel (of sorts) in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which leaves behind a
contemporary Hogwarts for a Roaring Twenties’ New York City. Instead of the
castle in the countryside where a British boarding school narrative provided
both structure and boundless whimsical visuals in which a hero’s journey could
patiently develop, here she finds a bustling retro-urban America. It shares
with her earlier stories a magical community hiding in plain sight, with many
of the same delights: goblins and house elves and wizards and all the processes
and politics thereof existing behind a magical barrier, mostly unbothered by
the concerns of muggles. They’re about to find the boundaries transgressed,
when well-meaning but bumbling zoologist wizard Newt Scamander arrives with a suitcase
full of magical critters that get loose, threatening to wreak havoc and expose their
community.
So it’s both a new world and an old one, with fresh sights
and peoples and times to explore while maintaining some slight sense of
comforting familiar continuity with the terrific film adaptations of Rowling’s Potters. It’s a difficult task,
especially for a writer whose drive to endlessly add imaginative filigrees on
her work is reflected in her books’ page counts and her years of additional
hints and factoids since the series’ conclusion. I certainly don’t begrudge her
desire to live in the world she created and tell us more about it. The problem
is with time and space. A movie simply can’t expand and explain as much as she’s
attempting here, especially when it leaves her two biggest writerly assets –
overflowing incident and whimsical detail – foreshortened. The result is a
story that’s at once incredibly simple and worldbuilding that’s bewilderingly
complicated. Sure, it’s a spin-off. But it’s also starting over. Rowling is
stuck in the in-between space. Beasts is
too beholden to what came before to break out and be its own thing, but too
different to drift off much affection for the Potter story.
Scamander (Eddie Redmayne, playing up a sheepish
introversion as an unusually passive presence for this sort of big phantasmagoric
production) arrives uncharacterized in a world we know little about. As the
movie, directed by Potter alum David
Yates, slowly pulls its character through a tour of magical New York we pick up
bits and pieces about stateside wizard tics and troubles. Here the Ministry of
Magic is the Magical Congress of the United States of America (or MACUSA)
hidden Platform 9¾ style in the Woolworth Building. They’ve banned magical
creatures and have a strict no-muggle-fraternizing policy, so they’re quite
taken aback when Scamander not only loses his suitcase of creatures but has
accidentally left it with a normal man (Dan Fogler). A low-level MACUSA agent
(Katherine Waterson) tries to keep a lid on the situation, enlisting her
mind-reading sister (Alison Sudol) in assisting Scamander and his new muggle
pal’s fetch quest for fantastic beasts of all shapes and sizes hiding out in a
gleaming digital backlot period piece metropolis.
This is the simple part of the story, with Scamander
anchoring a creature feature that finds its drive in a man determined to stop
the beasts by saving them and understanding them instead of merely defeating
and capturing them. There’s not much in the way of momentum or urgency to the
task, as Rowling’s script has an unhurried amble. We spend long sequences
simply looking at a CG menagerie, disappearing into his roomy suitcase zoo to
look at googly-eyed monsters and ethereal mammals, or watching a bulbous glowing
rhinoceros charging or an invisible monkey scampering. My favorite was a
kleptomaniac platypus – he had the most personality of these fantasy animals –
but a feathery dragon snake that shrinks or expands to fill available space is
a runner up for its clever Miyazaki-like design. Still, it adds up to a whole
lot of footage of actors looking with all the convincing awe they can muster at
computer animation, punctuated by a lackadaisical, gently amusing bantering
relationship between the underwritten leads. (To the extent they have
personality it’s in whatever the performers are able to squeeze in between set
pieces and exposition.)
Underneath this lighthearted, simple adventure with thin
characters and slight sights simmers great, evocative tension and complicated
conflicts. There’s brewing anti-witch conspiracy led by a wild-eyed zealot
(Samantha Morton), whose adopted son (Ezra Miller) is torn between living up to
her ideology or helping an authoritarian wizard detective (Colin Farrell). This rich, gripping side story is so fascinating I wished it were the center of
the movie instead of a terrific subplot. It becomes the picture’s most
fascinating addition to Rowling’s lore, growing into a possession tale arising
out of twisted self-loathing, and with snaky tendrils into crooked politics as
a slimy tycoon (Jon Voight) casts about for a scapegoat to fuel his electoral
ambitions. That all this sits side-by-side with a sightseeing jaunt through
capering creature hunts makes for a struggle with striking a tone. Even as the
storylines converge, it feels like too much is held back or unspoken for fear
of running out of material for proposed future sequels.
For this is a movie that’s intended to be the jumping off
point for a new series, and as such falls into the trap of keeping its options
open. There’s charm in the lovely, unusual grace notes – expressive slow
motion, subtle (to the point of nearly undetectable) emotional tremors, soft
humor, delicate slapstick. It’s not the typical blockbuster. It has
personality, eccentricity in its construction while still beholden to the beats
expected of studio spectacle, including the now inevitable huge CG cloud of
muck throbbing in the sky for a finale. Yates, with many of the same crew
members who so handsomely designed and decorated the Potters, dutifully conjures Rowling’s imagination, but in this case
it can’t help but feel a little hesitant, a two-hour promise of more to come.
If this flowers into a fresh new franchise, it’ll look in retrospect like a passable
setup. For now, it’s merely a footnote, an afterthought to a far more
satisfying story.
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