To the extent that there is a problem with the final Harry Potter movie, it is this: being split in two was a mildly unfortunate design choice. Because… I mean, okay, cool, this was an incredible summer movie, with non-stop action, split occasionally by tension-breaking humor or revelation after revelation, and I have no complaints about it for itself. (And for the record, I have a hard time imagining anyone, newcomer or longtime reader, being disappointed. Sure, the story gets a little weird at the end, but the only problem with the pair of films as adaptation is that it reminds the viewer how much better the fifth and sixth films (well, mainly the fifth) would have been served by an extra hour or two.)

It’s just that, when comparing it with the tight-focused character drama of Part 1, it’s impossible not to notice that what could have been an admittedly far-too-long movie that had just about everything any movie could need is instead two movies, one that interleaves magic and mystery with some of the best ensemble teen acting I’ve seen[1], and the other that interleaves magic and mystery with, y’know, loud summer explosions. I feel bad, because this makes the second movie sound worse as a standalone than it really is and also because it oversimplifies the situation and leaves some things out. But it’s still fundamentally true. Sorry it’s probably too late when you see this to get a double feature, as that’s clearly the way to go.

[1] It doesn’t matter that they were possibly early 20s by then, dammit.[2]
[2] Because, that’s why.