"Order of the Phoenix" is by far my least favorite Harry Potter book. Funny then that it's one of my favorite Potter movies (the third, Alfonso Cuaron's stylish "Prisoner of Azkaban," remains the best; I'd put this film right behind it). Like the book, the film version of "Order" is dark and considerably more adult than previous Potter outings. It's rated PG-13, and although the Potter franchise is aimed primarily at children I'd think twice about taking anyone under the age of 12. Not because they'll be scared - all of the Potter movies include some pretty intense moments - but because there's a LOT of exposition, and even more angsty emotional drama. Kids looking for the wonders of wizardry or bright special effects might be bored, especially during the clunky first act.

But like the movie series itself, the film gets better as it goes along. For non-readers, the crux this time out is that, following the rebirth of the evil Lord Voldemort in the last film, Harry has become an outcast from the wizarding community, the leadership of which refuses acknowledge the Big Bad's return. Instead, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has launched a full-scale propaganda campaign to place blame for all of the shadowy goings-on on to Sirius Black (Harry's godfather, currently on the lam for escaping from wizarding prison after being falsely convicted) and to make Harry look like an attention-seeking nutbag. The Ministry of Magic's steamrolling eventually comes to Harry's school, Hogwarts, where Ministry flunky Dolores Umbridge is swiftly instated as the new headmaster after the kindly Albus Dumbledore is shown the door after copping to encouraging the students to rebel against the Ministry in the form of a secret club.

Once that group - formed by Harry and his friends to teach students how to defend themselves from Voldemort's dark forces, since the Ministry refuses to acknowledge the problem - starts practicing and Umbridge's power-mad decrees start flying, the movie kicks in, and it doesn't let up. This is the first Potter flick that put something on screen that out-imagined my imagination, as the massive fight in the Ministry looks a million times more exciting and dangerous than I ever pictured it from the book. The final battle between Voldemoort and Dumbledore is exceptionally cool, too, and it's a good thing that director David Yates is on board for the sixth flick. If he can bring this level of visual flair to the terrifying scene with the lake of the dead, we'll all be sleeping a little less soundly. And for some reason, I think that's a good thing.

One thing the Potter films have always gotten right is casting, and this installment is no exception. New faces this time include Evanna Lynch as oddball character Luna Lovegood. She's not as gawky as I'd like, but she's got that dreamy delivery down and I wanted to see more of her. Helena Bonham Carter could very well be bad girl Bellatrix Lestrange in real life, and she clearly has a hoot devouring the scenery in her mere 20 minutes on screen. And most importantly Imelda Staunton takes a different turn on Umbridge than I was expecting. The book paints the picture of a reprehensible, toad-like battleaxe. Staunton plays her as a dainty grandmother with an unhealthy obsession for Pepto Bismol pink, and a stealth bitch streak a mile wide. She's fantastic, and I was kind of sorry to see her get her comeuppance since she's such a perfect screen villainess.

The film has its problems. In addition to serious pacing issues in the first 45 minutes some fairly major details are left out, like the explanation of what 12 Grimauld Place is and why it does what it does (if I was a non-reader watching a house grow out of, well, nothing, I'd be confused). There's no discussion of how Neville could conceivably fit into the prophecy, and the Aurors get the most cursory of introductions. But in general it's a lot less objectionable than the book it's based on. Perhaps Harry's unrelenting pissiness throughout isn't as grating on the screen as it is on paper. Perhaps it's the way even the bit players like Alan Rickman and Maggie Smith wring every last drop out of each line given to them. Perhaps it's the stunning set pieces like the Ministry or the truly creepy thestrals. (One complaint: the CGI on Hagrid's giant brother looks cheap.) But by the end it turns into a thoroughly engrossing flick that I'm eager to see again. And I don't think I felt that way about "Goblet of Fire," which is strange because it's one of my favorite books. Go figure.