2016’s “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” promised to be a new, tonally distinct chapter in the so-called Wizarding World. Based on a slender, canon-adjacent book by J.K. Rowling (who also provided the film’s screenplay), it was sold as an airy romp following a foppish Brit (Eddie Redmayne) as he scampered around Jazz Age Manhattan collecting magical creatures and attempting to prevent the human world from getting wind of his misadventures. But, alas, that wasn’t meant to be. Instead of ‘Pokémon‘ by way of “The Great Gatsby,” we got more of the same – intricate plotting, dozens of characters, and explicit connections to moments heavily referenced in the ‘Harry Potter‘ novels and films, most notably the screen introduction of Gellert Grindelwald, the baddest of all bad wizards (played for most of the film by Colin Farrell in disguise but finally revealed to be Johnny Depp – a controversial casting decision that Rowling herself defends). That character plays a larger role in the follow-up (obviously), “Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald” but while the first film was jarring and clumsy, the sequel finds itself settling into a groove; it’s darker, weirder, more relevant and, yes, way more magical.
When the sequel opens up, the villainous Grindelwald (now Depp full time) is being taken away by the magical authorities and mounts a high-speed, mid-air escape that is just as dazzling as anything in the ‘Harry Potter’ films. From there, the movie slowly unfolds, as we catch up with nebbish zoologist Newt Scamander (Redmayne, once again hidden behind a mop of bristly hair and a number of questionable tics) as he’s recruited, first by the wizard powers-that-be and then by Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore (an impish Jude Law) to track down Grindelwald and bring him to justice before he commits genocide. Why anybody would want Newt, who is much more interested in cataloging otherworldly creatures, to track a homicidal madman is a mystery, and he himself says that he doesn’t choose sides, it makes for a fascinating narrative decision. In the first film, Newt’s wishy-washiness left a big blank hole in the middle of the movie; he was the only character who seemed mostly devoid of character. But here, his ambiguousness is an asset, and one more mystery that gets unpacked.
Anyway, joining Newt once again are his Muggle buddy Jacob (Dan Fogler) and his witchy girlfriend Queenie (Alison Sudol), along with Newt’s true love Tina (Katherine Waterson, still the most engaging thing about these movies). Most of the action takes place in Paris, for various reasons, as they search for Credence (Ezra Miller), a young man with a powerful secret who Grindelwald believes is essential to his evil scheme. There is, as always, a lot of running around and peeks into previously unexplored corners of the Wizarding World, most charmingly a kind of traveling wizard circus that is filled with oddities and strange creatures that is treated with an offhanded ease that brings to mind the best of Rowling’s prose and the cinematic triumphs of filmmakers like Guillermo del Toro and Terry Gilliam.
And, truth be told, this film feels very much like Rowling’s novels (she returned to script), where details are teased and then teased again and then finally revealed, and where certain set pieces and character motivations don’t totally make sense but if you were reading it and they were spaced a few chapters apart, you’d probably say “fuck it” and go with it anyway. (There are many moments like this here.) But this kind of densely layered, overtly literary approach does make the movie feel unique and of the world in ways that a more traditional narrative probably wouldn’t have. It also ends on a big twist that, if had come on the final page of a book, would probably have left most readers getting right back in line at Barnes & Noble for the two-year wait, but here will probably frustrate as many people as it does delight them. This is a big, bold, overstuffed delight, and while these new films are clearly meant to expand the world established by ‘Harry Potter,’ their instance on returning to pivotal events referenced in those books and films, it ends up unintentionally making everything feel smaller. And, yes, Hogwarts is in the film. Prepare your robes accordingly.
And honestly, there’s a lot to say for the movie maintaining and expanding upon the tone and tenor of the first film. Gone is any pretension that this branch of the franchise will be smaller or more intimate, replaced by a reassurance that this is, instead, an essential chapter in the history of the universe that would eventually include a certain boy wizard. Freed from those expectations, it’s easier to enjoy the movie for what it is, instead of what of what it was marketed as. And, really, “Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald” is beautifully chaotic, a movie that is strange and lovely and fascinatingly allegorical (the movie’s brilliant climax is set at a kind of dark wizard gathering that feels one MAGA hat short of a Trump rally), which is all the more impressive considering its comparatively crass beginnings as an obvious “brand extension.”
As directed by franchise stalwart David Yates and photographed by Tim Burton confederate Philippe Rousselot, it both looks and feels rich and complicated. This is a family fantasy film that dares to make connections not only to our current President but also the horror of the recent past (going into this movie, you’ll never expect to see explicit Holocaust imagery). And it’s a testament to the film’s tonal tightrope act that these grand ideas and allusions can exist comfortably next to cute creatures scampering around and deep-dive nerd shit (turns out that Voldemort’s snake Nagini began life as a mysterious woman played by Claudia Kim). This bouillabaisse approach might not appeal to everyone (Twitter is already full of outrage), but it’s hard not to admire, if not outright love, the kind of grand, operatic world-building Yates and Rowling have created (a key pillar is, it pains me to report, Depp’s wonderfully oversized performance). It doesn’t reach the heights of, say, Alfonso Cuaron’s ‘Harry Potter’ entry, but it is considerably more magical. Bring on part 3. [B]