In 2001, I was certainly aware that the first Harry Potter movie existed, but I didn’t actually dive in until nearly nine years later, around 2010. I also knew about the book series, since even before the movies, Harry Potter had already become a massive cultural phenomenon. I remember the absurd panic from conservative parents who were convinced Harry Potter was somehow the devil’s work. But for whatever reason, I never got swept up in it during middle school like a lot of my friends, and I mostly ignored it through high school too. It wasn’t until my early 20s that I finally gave the series a proper chance, and I ended up loving it. And I think it’s nuts that even the movie was retitled to Sorcerer’s Stone in America because we’re dumb ignorant Americans.
Looking back, it’s wild realizing just how massive an impact that first film was about to have. It genuinely reshaped media as we know it, even if it took me years to actually notice. The movie stays fairly faithful to the book, with only relatively minor omissions this time around, though they really should have found room for Peeves the ghost. Harry Potter is a young British boy living under the stairs at his aunt and uncle’s house because his parents are dead. We’re clearly meant to feel for Harry here, though with 2020s London real estate prices, living under those stairs might actually run him around £900 a month these days. Regardless, his aunt, uncle, and cousin treat him horribly, which naturally raises the question of why.
It turns out he’s actually a wizard, and not just any wizard, but arguably one of the most famous wizards of his generation, trailing behind maybe only three other truly legendary wizards. First is Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. Then presumably the Minister of Magic, essentially Britain’s magical equivalent of a Prime Minister. And of course, the Dark Wizard Lord Voldemort, who gave Harry his scar during a failed murder attempt that instead destroyed Voldemort himself, earning Harry the title The Boy Who Lived, hence his fame.
He’s sorted into Gryffindor, the house typically associated with the “good guys,” though the films especially tend to paint every Slytherin as inherently evil, which really isn’t accurate at all. This was also one of only two films to feature Richard Harris as Dumbledore. He nearly turned the role down entirely, knowing his declining health likely wouldn’t let him survive the full run of planned films. But his granddaughter caught wind of it and threatened never to speak to him again if he passed on the part. So essentially, a grandfather’s love is the reason we got our very first Dumbledore. Ironically, despite being more book-accurate than Michael Gambon’s later portrayal, Harris remains my least favorite take on the character, mostly because I just can’t picture him convincingly dueling Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic.
From there, we meet Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Every great story needs a strong supporting cast, and while neither character necessarily jumps off the page on paper, especially Ron, it’s hard to imagine Harry Potter without the magically unremarkable pure-blood redhead and the Muggle-born genius who honestly belonged in Ravenclaw. We’re also introduced to Wizard’s Chess, which somehow lets them outmaneuver a magical trap specifically designed to keep Voldemort from reclaiming his body.
I always forget just how hard the film works to frame Snape as the primary villain until I rewatch it. My stepdaughter Lily fell for it completely, especially given his role as head of Slytherin House. He’s dark, brooding, and framed by the camera in exactly the way that makes you believe he’s the one secretly plotting Voldemort’s return. None of us, of course, had any idea about his connection to Lily Evans or the heartbreaking burden he silently carries throughout his life. It’s also pretty remarkable that J.K. Rowling reportedly let Alan Rickman in on Snape’s full arc long before any readers had a clue.
Instead, the real culprit turns out to be, surprisingly, Professor Quirrell. I honestly can’t recall if that twist caught me off guard or if it had already been spoiled for me beforehand. Either way, he’s easily one of my least favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, especially since the film never actually shows him teaching a class. We’re simply left to assume he does. Aside from his memorable troll-in-the-dungeon speech, he mostly lurks quietly in the background for the rest of the movie, which, to be fair, is exactly how Rowling originally wrote the character.
And tucked away on the back of his head, we get our very first glimpse of Lord Voldemort, technically played by the same actor portraying Quirrell, though you’d never guess it without being told. Still, this version felt strikingly different from how I’d pictured Voldemort in the books, and especially from Ralph Fiennes’ later portrayal. All understandable creative choices, sure, but why on earth did they give him a nose? By the time Goblet of Fire rolled around, Rowling had clearly established his snake-like, nose-less nostrils, yet somehow that detail never made it here. Even so, while it’s not my personal favorite film in the series, it’s undeniably the most iconic, and one my wife Jessica treasures even more than I do.