Lighten up, guys, puberty isn't that bad. Oh wait. Yeah. It is.

Okay, here’s the deal: I’ve listened to the audio book of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. More than once. It’s not easy for me to admit that publicly, but I feel you have the right to know that you’re about to read one of those reviews that makes frequent, sometimes indignant, use of the phrase "but in the book . . ." You have been warned.

In Prisoner of Azkaban, everybody’s favorite boy wizard returns to Hogwarts for his third year, which is about to be complicated by the escape of notorious murderer Sirius Black from the hellish prison Azkaban. It seems that Black wants to kill Harry, paving the way for the return of You Know Who. (And if you don’t know who, well, an explanation is beyond the scope of this review. Sorry. Try this one.) The Ministry of Magic sends Dementors, the guards of Azkaban, to protect the school and search for Black. The cure may be worse than the disease, however, as the Dementors feed by forcing people to relive their worst memories. (Note that Harry has some particularly bad memories.)

Whew! And that’s just the half of it movie-plot-wise, which is just the half of it book-plot-wise. And that can be a problem, but we’ll get to that in a moment.

"We thought it was a cliche, David, but it's true: never act with kids and animals. I mean, damn, look what it's done to us."

First let me say that this movie is Hagrid-size strides ahead of the first two Potter flicks. Spicy auteur Alfonso Cuarón (Y Tu Mamá También) takes over director’s duties from affably bland Chris Columbus and it makes all the difference. Where the earlier films were slavishly faithful to the books’ details while somehow managing to leave their spirit behind, Cuarón captures Azkaban’s mood while taking a few liberties with the plot. Where Columbus’s vision of Hogwarts was as plastic as the toys it spun off, Cuarón’s feels real and lived-in, made of stone and wood rather than Styrofoam. He deepens the palette, trading in some of the Easter egg colors for more muted tones and darker darks. He sends Harry down pitch-black corridors and irises in and out of scenes like he’s F.W. Murnau directing Nosferatu. His camera moves, swooping through Harry’s world, giving us context and depth we’ve never had before. John Williams’s score revels in the melodrama and while it would feel overwrought in another movie, it matches Cuarón’s Expressionistic tone note for note.

There are delightfully imaginative new sets as well, including the Divination classroom, which wouldn’t look out of place hosting a fortune-teller’s nightclub act, and the refurbished Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, its corners stuffed with fascinating details. The special effects, especially the eerie Dementors and a truly terrifying werewolf transformation, are strikingly original and meticulously rendered.

The cat thought there was something different about Dumbledore, but she couldn't quite figure out what.

Of course, there are those plot liberties I mentioned. Do the words "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs" mean anything to you? If not you might find things a wee bit confusing. Cuarón and screenwriter Steve Kloves keep things moving at a brisk clip. Too brisk, I think; too many details have fallen by the wayside and I have to think a Potter novice would find the story hard to follow. Why do certain characters know certain things, show up at certain times and have certain abilities? I know, but you won’t if you haven’t read the book. (And frankly, it makes Harry look like an idiot for not asking.) I never thought I’d say this about a Harry Potter movie, but it could have used another twenty minutes. In his mad rush to the next scene, Kloves frequently leaves out important bits of character motivation, and while I realize that he can’t possibly fit in everything from the book, some of the big emotional moments lose their impact because the scenes that build up to them haven’t had enough time to stew. And, okay, I know the Shrieking Shack scene in the book is too talky for a movie, but couldn’t they free up, like, a MINUTE for characters to explain what’s going on? They say some important stuff and it’s interesting, really.

And for the record, if you were at the AMC Eden Prairie on Friday night and you heard somebody splutter, “That’s not how it happened” at about ninety minutes in, well, there’s absolutely no proof that it was me.

Alan Rickman is getting more and more blatant about upstaging the kiddies with every film.

While I hate to say this because she’s a lovely girl and Emma Watson plays her beautifully, there’s just too much Hermione. I like grrrl power as much as the next person, but honestly, Hermione doesn’t have to be super girl from her first scene to her last. Nor does she have to be given Ron’s moment of heroism or come up with every step of whatever plan they’re currently working on. (Harry should occasionally have an idea, being the protagonist and all.) The thing is, for all her screen time I don’t think the filmmakers really get the character. Book Hermione is bossy and prissy and a bit tightly wound but we love her anyway. Where is that girl in the movie?

Okay, I don’t want to nitpick every detail. (Oh, who am I kidding? I’d LOVE to nitpick every detail. Who’s in?) Mood swing with me now back to the gushing side of this somewhat bipolar review . . .

"Listen, Dan, is it true you're richer than Prince William? So can I borrow a couple of quid?"

I can forgive Kloves and Cuarón their lapses when I remember the wonderful little touches they threw in. Honestly, I may be a sick, sick woman, but the sight of a bluebird getting whomped by the willow will never stop being funny to me. The dialogue is jokey and clever and there are some sweet moments of character interaction that make up for a lot of what was lost. In particular, the relationship between Harry and his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, which is one of my favorites of the series, is handled brilliantly, both by the writer and the actors. Daniel Radcliffe, as Harry, is coming along nicely as an actor, developing more range with every movie. David Thewlis, in an admirably nuanced performance, plays Lupin with all the compassion and humor I wanted from the character, and I wanted a lot. It’s to Thewlis’s credit that even with his back-story left largely unexplained, Lupin’s character comes across clearly.

Gary Oldman, who’s been bringing the crazy for going on twenty years now, gives that and so much more to Sirius. He needed more screen time, but Oldman did a great job of conveying Sirius’s complexity through body language and tone of voice.

"Oh, my dear, if you continue with your acting career I see an affair with Kenneth Brannagh in your future and trust me, you don't want to go down that road."

And Emma Thompson as Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher: how much do I love her? (A lot.) She’s just gleefully funny in her googly glasses and hippy wardrobe, and she makes it look so effortless. From the “I hate to say this” file, I think I like the new Dumbledore better than the late Richard Harris’s statelier version. Michael Gambon doesn’t quite capture Dumbledore’s serenity, but he does make him a bit of a loon, which is one of the things I’ve always liked about the character in the books. I’m not crazy, however, about Timothy Spall in a small role late in the film. Not entirely his fault; makeup and wardrobe didn’t do him any favors. He's such a cartoonish villain that you have to wonder why James and Lily . . . well, never mind. You won’t wonder at all if you haven’t read the book.

But seriously, (Siriusly!) my fangirl quibbling aside, this is far and away the best Harry Potter movie so far, and damn fine even when you don’t compare it to its mediocre predecessors. It’s stylish and thrilling, funny and scary and just gorgeous. I’m ready to see it again. What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?

Gorilla Pants rating: 3.5 out of 4 bananas