Adapting novels can be a tricky business. Films are visual, novels are based in prose. Films are limited by time contraints, budgets, actor availability, while books themselves have word count restrictions and structural considerations. Harry Potter and his stories were designed to be described, expressed and explored in prose; he wasn't built for cinema. Transplanting Harry and his world into film was always going to require conversion.
The films have often been slated by Harry Potter fans. The sins of the movies have often been described as omitting eagerly anticipated scenes, presenting alternate versions of the book's events, putting the kids in Muggle clothing, etc..
I've found that unfair. Film adaptations should evaluated not as an extension of the original novel, but as pieces of cinema in their own right. The novels can be used as a reference point for how effectively the film story was told, and to delve into the spirit of the story as intended by JK Rowling. But at the end of the day, movies aren't books. Movies should be judged by how satisfying the viewing experience is. For me, there is nothing sadder than seeing people call Prisoner of Azkaban a bad movie because Harry gets his Firebolt at the end of the movie as opposed to in the middle. Omitting the Death Day party didn't make Chamber of Secrets a bad film, nor did adding Kreacher make Order of the Phoenix good.
Still, even by these standards, Philosopher's Stone is still a really dull movie. No one can call Philosopher's Stone unfaithful to the source. Yet, whilst the movie slavishly adheres to the letter of JK Rowling's novel, miss many of the nuances, most of the meaning and much of the fun.
The opening scene of McGonagall, Dumbledore and Hagrid really demonstrates a lack of understanding for the medium of film. On paper, this opening scene is a tantalizing hint of a magical world next to a mundane existence, with the three wizards expressing a mix of jubilance, sadness and hope as they deposit baby Harry Potter with his relatives. On screen, it's cold exposition delivered by a boring Richard Harris and a dull Maggie Smith. And that's the driving approach of this film adaptation; scenes from the book are acted out. Harry in a closet! Now you can see it! Hagrid bursting into the room! Now you can see it.
This cinematically illiterate approach can be found in almost every single pivotal scene in the movie. Perhaps the worst point of the film is the scene in the island shack, where Hagrid at last catches up to Harry and the Dursleys. In the book, Hagrid reveals Harry's past to him, and it's very much a scene of validation, where Harry realizes that despite his mistreatment, he has always been able to protect himself and no matter what he's suffered, there is a place in the world where he belongs. It's one of the finest pieces of writing in the series, but it is not a scene that translates well to film. In the book, the turning point is when Harry looks back upon his eleven years of life and realizes his unconscious magical ability has always protected him from harm and injury. It is an internal realization, dependent upon the prose, which means there's very little here for an actor to use for communicating the point to the audience.
A competent screenwriter and film director, in depicting this scene, would find some way of capturing the sense of wonder and a larger world. Maybe through a flashback. Maybe through Harry describing to Hagrid one of Rowling's little anecdotes about Harry's wandless, uncontrolled magic. A competent screenwriter and director would do *anything* other than what Columbus and Kloves did, which was to simply transcribe the dialogue and have the actors deliver it. The movie needed to make this scene a moment of Harry eagerly embracing the world Hagrid is describing. But instead, it's nothing more than dialogue, devoid of the subtext or meaning Rowling created.
Another ghastly example is the flashback to Voldemort's attack on the Potter homestead. It should be the brutal, vicious, horrific night when Harry lost his parents. Instead, it's a clumsy slow motion shot of someone wearing a curtain and two actors screaming at the sight of him. This is emotionally relevant, thematically vital material, but Columbus and Kloves make it nothing more than exposition. And this is all the movie accomplishes, exposition, right to the very end, where Dumbledore reveals to Harry the reason Voldemort was defeated.
When Dumbledore revealed to Harry the nature the magic that protects Harry, there was a sense that magic was more than shouting spells. It was also something beneath Harry's very skin, seared into him by love. But in the movie, this revelation is just dialogue, without the deeper meaning. Columbus and Kloves seem to be content with transcribing the book, filming the line readings and pissing off for a pint.
The only scene in the film that captures the full force of Rowling's writing is when the Mirror of Erised appears. For the first time, Columbus and Kloves convey Harry's loss and longings. This is more Rowling's accomplishment than Columbus and Kloves; the Mirror of Erised is a physical object that is suited to visual representation. The lingering shots of Harry gazing desperately at his family always bring tears to my eyes. It's the one moment during the entire film when I *felt*. Sadly, this scene is the exception, and the majority of the film is a costumed book-reading.
Yes, the movie is faithful to the book and the fact that no one was Americanized and none of the characters were made boy-band members is admirable. But there is no visual vitality, no imagination, and the determinedly literal approach to the material fails the film on multiple occasions. The film is shot with Harry, Ron and Hermione inexplicably always being at the front of any large group of students. All the better for the camera to film them and decidedly illogical. The film provides us with a castle for Hogwarts, a perfectly nice castle, but utterly devoid of the grandeur and labyrinth sprawl that this magical, wonderful place should possess. Harry's closet under the stairs in Privet Drive is not the miserable, restrictive, humiliating prison of the book but a bearable (if cramped) sleeping chamber. Diagon Alley looks like a soundstage.
This film was adored by the fans. Here was the Harry Potter they knew from the books, absolutely recognizable, utterly faithful, rendered with complete devotion to the text. The fact that the movie was more boring than educational videos about traffic safety was apparently a fair trade-off.
