If Only Just Fantastic Beasts
Last week, I sat down to write a reflection on Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them for The Varsity Newspaper. It took a long time to sort through my thoughts on this movie; the piece took much longer to write than I anticipated and was double the length I intended. As such, a portion of it had to be cut for print, and so my thoughts continue here.
When the credits started rolling the first time I saw this film, my first thought was overwhelming joy to have been back in the Wizarding World. My friends had urged me to read Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, saying how great it was to return to the universe and hang out with the characters; but when I read it, the world did not feel believable. I caught glimpses of familiarity here and there but was not drawn back. Watching Fantastic Beasts, I was entirely and happily sucked into Rowling’s universe once more.
My second thought when the movie finished was how wonderful it felt to have a Hufflepuff lead at last — and what a great one at that.
Like his beasts, Newt’s character was awkwardly sweet and likeable. After an entire series featuring Gryffindors, known for their rashness and love of action, it felt refreshing to have a Hufflepuff lead, characterized by his humility and kindness. The other protagonists – the witch sisters, Tina and Queenie Goldstein, and the non-wizard Jacob Kowalski – lacked depth but were still entertaining. Jacob especially functioned as not only effective comic relief but was also a relatable representation of the reader, whisked away on a fantastic journey, and then sent back to an improved version of real life at the end. Tina, I found far blander and was disappointed to realize that she would become Newt’s wife. Like in most Hollywood films, the romance in this one felt obvious and unrealistic — a disappointing move for Rowling, who can do much better.
As the second half of the film moves deeper into its larger plot, my grievances increased. In particular, despite consistent warnings of a war between Muggles and wizards, I never once believed in this danger. The Second Salemers were the only Muggles who showed any antagonism towards the magical world, and they are repeatedly derided and ignored by the rest of their non-magic community, which undercuts their threat. Although we can see how magical destruction causes tension between wizards and Muggles, we also see that memories are quickly wiped and all damages repaired.
At the centre of this conflict is the Obscurial: a wizard child who has had to repress his powers to avoid detection, creating a destructive parasite. This concept will ring a bell with Harry Potter fans, who may know that Albus Dumbledore’s little sister, Ariana, suffered from this condition. As Aberforth Dumbledore tells us:
When my sister was six years old, she was attacked, set upon, by three Muggle boys. They’d seen her doing magic . . . they got a bit carried away trying to stop the little freak doing it. . . . It destroyed her, what they did: she was never right again. She wouldn’t use magic, but she couldn’t get rid of it: it turned inwards and drove her mad, it exploded out of her when she couldn’t control it, and at times she was strange and dangerous. But mostly she was sweet, and scared, and harmless.
This idea is fascinating enough to explore on its own; in competing with half a dozen other plot points in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, potential for further development was lost. Instead, the audience just got an excessive amount of chaotic action with a touching but limited backstory.
Similarly, the name-dropping of Leta Lestrange, who will undoubtedly play a bigger role in subsequent films, felt forced and out of place in this film. The turmoil within the non-magic Shaw family, which seemed like a big deal in the moment, went entirely unexplored before memories were wiped. At the film’s conclusion, poorly explained magical rain erased every Muggle’s memories in all of New York City; this twist requires a large stretch of the imagination to buy.
In the Harry Potter series, each character and plot line added depth to the main one; together, they harmonized and created a complex story with subtle hints of set-up throughout. For example, in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, Hagrid mentions borrowing the flying motorbike from Sirius Black, who we do not meet until Prisoner of Azkaban. In Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore mentions being friendly with the Hog’s Head barman, who we find out is Aberforth in Deathly Hallows. Also in Order of the Phoenix, a sealed locket is found in Grimmauld Place that we later learn is the horcrux. These hints (and many more) are passing incidents, subtle and natural, that do not interfere with the central plot. Fantastic Beasts failed to set its story up as tightly. It failed to portray a villain who didn’t look like a monster. It failed to establish convincing relationships between the characters.
All that said, this film brought me back into a world that I love profoundly — so much that I teared up as soon as the Warner Bros logo came onscreen. When Newt (and hopefully his creatures) return, I will still be waiting to go back to the Wizarding World with them.
Photos: Warner Bros Studio