And so here it is finally. After nine years watching the prepubescent speccy wizard grow into a chiselled speccy wizard, the long, long climax is here. Kicking off what has become a fad in novel adaptations aimed mainly at screaming teenage girls (Twilight, The Hunger Games), Deathly Hallows splits the final novel into two 120-plus films. Whether this is to avoid condensing a mammoth, multi-character into one rushed, incoherent stand-alone movie, or to take full advantage of a multi- billion franchise that is soon to finally end, is up for debate (although a sneaky feeling tells me it's the latter). What is for certain is that a huge, dragging chunk of Part 1 could have easily been wavered. It's like director David Yates forgot that this series is supposed to be fun.

This time around, there's no Hogwarts, and there's almost nothing recognisable about the franchise whatsoever. Beginning with an exciting broomstick battle over London which sees surviving members of the Order don Harry's (Daniel Radcliffe) face in an attempt to elude the lurking Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes), things soon turn gloomy as Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) are forced to go solo in the countryside in search of the Dark Lord's remaining Horcruxes. If that word perplexes you at this point of the series, you may as well leave early, as quite rightly, the film has no time for catch-up.

With the novel going into much-needed detail in terms of character, background and plot (such is the benefit of literature), the decision to split the film into two parts means Part 1 can breathe easy and take it's time before the final smackdown at Hogwarts in Part 2. This means we spend more time with the three leads as the weight of possible doom lingers heavy on their backs. The absence of the usual stellar adult ensemble is damaging, as Radcliffe, Grint and Watson struggle to hold the film on their own, given their limited acting ability and their character's lack of any real dimension. Grint is easily the best of the three, but Ron is shackled with a jealousy sub-plot (again) which means he gets to mope a lot and storm off.

Yates is the safe choice at this point to end the series. He lacks the cuddly obviousness of Chris Columbus and the more visionary efforts of Alfonso Cuaron and Mike Newell, and apart from a nice little animated sequence near the middle, the film just goes through the motions. There's a nice little dance number, but it's the only recognisable touch from the director. "These are dark times, there's no denying it," warns Rufus Scrimgeour (Bill Nighy), the new minister of magic, in the film's opening scene. Dark and grainy times they are, and oddly joyless, Part 1 feels like an extended advertisement for the real end, Part 2, squeezing it's dedicated fans for all they're worth.

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