Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2

It all ends. It's the tagline for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (HP7.2), but also the blunt truth about this emotional journey. For me, it would be impossible to separate this review from what I feel deep in my heart. I'm biased! I grew up with these characters. They've been in my life for over a decade. As this series ends, so does my childhood. Melodramatic and schmaltzy, but that's how I felt sitting in the theater. Harry finally faces Voldermort, the climactic world-shattering finale.

While director David Yates, who's been in charge since Order of the Phoenix, isn't my favorite talent in shaping Harry's quest (that distinction goes to Alfonso Cuarón), he has crafted the delicate balance the series needed, matching blockbuster bombast with artistic ambition. Picking up directly where Part 1 finished, Yates breathlessly guides the action forward, swiftly placing the action back at Hogwarts. The cinematography is in equal parts lush and gritty, and the film is washed in sweeping visuals; the entire production team, as it has been since Chris Columbus' candy-sweet sheen was thrown out, is topnotch. There are certainly moments where Yates could pull back and let a scene breathe, or not undermine a somber moment with an overly quippy tag ending the scene; also, Deathly Hallows is capped by that sticky epilogue, but Yates does his best translating the moment (which admittedly works better on paper, and Yates had to recall the cast for a last-minute reshoot). Still, Yates confidently places every single emotion directly where it needs to be.

Yates has let the series mature elegantly, helping push the ensemble to give uniformly strong performances. Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson have certainly never been phenomenal actors, but it's impossible not to be moved by their performances, having watched them grow so much. Alan Rickman, once again, shows why he's the one and only Snape, his performance filled with harsh edge and delicate nuance; it's no wonder Snape was recently voted fan favorite character of the series, aided by Rickman's performance. When Snape's biggest moment comes towards the end of the film, where his true intentions are revealed, Rickman is absolute perfection. Here's hoping there's at least an Oscar nomination in his future.

Here's also hoping that Maggie Smith's Professor McGonagall can sneak away with a nomination for her beautiful, pitch-perfect work, despite her very limited screen time (she brought out my first big tears of the night). Helena Bonham Carter is gleefully hilarious when Hermione must infiltrate Gringotts Bank disguised as Bellatrix. Ralph Fiennes almost makes you wish Voldermort had more screen-time in previous installments, he's that wickedly good. It goes on and on. Some of the greatest working British actors have passed through this series, providing skill and grace, just one of the details that makes Harry Potter such a truly unprecedented franchise.

Seven books. Eight movies. Countless memories. The glowing reminder that love truly does conquer all, no matter the sacrifices made along the way. The awe-inspiring lesson that through endless obstacles and overwhelming danger, this world is still a place where magic exists, where children are thrust out to find themselves and fight for truth. I sobbed multiple times throughout HP7.2. Every fan of this generation certainly will. J.K. Rowling has crafted an unbelievable world, and the entire cast and crew of this franchise has done a stunning job translating her vision to the screen. These characters will live on forever. Their goodbye couldn't have been more satisfying, or bittersweet.

X-Men: First Class + Midnight in Paris

These are umm terribly late. Oopsie? Still felt the need to post, so here you go!

Woody Allen is back (does this man ever take a break?) with a charming little love letter to Paris, and to the giddy intellectual fury of the 1920s, in Midnight to Paris. With Owen Wilson playing the typical Allen role in Gil, a neurotic writer trying to finish his big novel, the film centers on a couple taking a vacation in Paris; Gil's frustrated fiancee (the miscast Rachel McAdams with a lot of shirt-dresses in her wardrobe) doesn't appreciate his Parisian musings, but Gil finds a magical transportation to the past while wandering the streets of the City of Light at, well, midnight. Allen has a blast throwing figureheads of the 1920s art scene into Gil's wanderings - Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Cole Porter; the list goes on. Sure, some of these references become a little too obscure or possibly little too pretentious, and the film itself might be a tad slight, but it's hard not to fall under Allen's spell. This is bouncy, cheerful filmmaking that's still grounded in a life-affirming moral - the past always looks better in hindsight, always shimmers with the haze of nostalgia; there's a necessity in appreciating the glory of the present without losing the magic of what's gone. Allen's been dolling out duds since Vicky Christina Barcelona, and it's lovely to see his signature style paint a story that will make you feel weightless. B

The X-Men franchise is technically the monster the began the whole superhero obsession, hitting a year before Spider-Man. And with Brett Ratner derailing the original trilogy, it was smart to turn back to an origin story. The greatest feat in this film, swathed by funky 60s vibes and a filming aesthetic by Matthew Vaugh to match (many film critics referenced a harkening back to early Bond), is the casting. James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, young incarnations of Professor X and Magneto, are wonderfully matched, giving their sparring the necessary emotional weight and thrill. If you didn't know Fassbender before, you'll know him now; he gives a truly star-making turn in his first big blockbuster lead, dripping with intensity and passion; honestly, the only weak link in the ensemble is January Jones, using her villain Emma Frost's chilly demeanor less as a character choice and more like an inability to move her face (at least she has great cleavage!). The film is soaked a little too deeply in its campy tones, but it raises the franchise back to the heights of the original. My biggest personal problem come from the fact that the characters have 20 years from the end of First Class till the beginning of the original trilogy, but aren't given much space to grow. Sure, I may be nitpicking the mythology, but as a fan, everything is in the details. B+