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That threat is averted with the timely intervention of Dumbledore (Michael Gambon). But the Ministry refuses to accept Harry's claim that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back on the scene. The Minister, Fudge (Robert Hardy), dispatches a new teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts, Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton), a giggly disciplinarian in pink who quickly undermines the head master's authority and imposes a new autocratic regime as Hogwart's High Inquisitor. Meanwhile Harry is plagued with visions that seem to come direct from the mind of Voldemort himself.

At 870 pages, 'The Order of the Phoenix' is JK Rowling's longest book, and by general agreement not her best. It's a bridging work, and, at least until the climax, there's not a lot going on of vital importance to the saga as a whole. Director David Yates and screenwriter Michael Goldenberg (Peter Pan) have been more ruthless with the red ink than most of their predecessors, for which movie fans should be grateful even if some readers are bound to disagree. In fact, at 138 minutes this is the shortest of the Potter movies to date.

Professor Umbridge is the main order of business, and a rare instance where the filmmakers have departed radically from Rowling's description: hardly the short, flabby, toad-like woman in the book, Imelda Staunton (Vera Drake) is flighty and birdlike; she rather reminded me of HRH the Queen, though I suspect there's an echo of The Iron Lady in the way she pronounces her cruel diktats with an exaggeratedly feminine sweetness.

The Order of the Phoenix doesn't amount too much either, although Gary Oldman has a couple of nice moments (and a very dashing wavy hair-do) as Sirius Black. In general it's left to Harry and Dumbledore to mount an effective opposition, with Potter turning magic teacher at Hermione's urging to train his classmates for the inevitable, but still far from definitive, showdown.

There's a reduced role for Ron (Rupert Grint), though the Weasleys have one spectacular fireworks display. Hagrid gets just two scenes, but we do make the acquaintance of his half-witted brother, not one of the series' subtlest CGI creations.

Lupin and Mad Eye Moody scarcely have a line between them. True to form, Alan Rickman Snape makes the most of the few bones sent his way. Perhaps mindful of the criticism that's been lobbed at her from feminist literary critics, Hermione (Emma Watson) takes the initiative now and then, which is nice. Mind you, she's still pretty colourless compared to the film's two most arresting new characters: the friendly but decidedly spooky Luna Lovegood (Evanna Lynch), and the not-so-friendly but rampantly exotic Bellatrix Lestrange (Helena Bonham Carter in full cry). More Bellatrix please!

An experienced TV director with just one previous feature to his credit (the underrated Titchborne Claimant), David Yates has made a good fist of this difficult assignment, and given that he's been given the reins for book six too, the powers that be must be happy with his work. I think audiences will be too, especially as the last act is so strong. But at the same time it's becoming clear that this series is running out of magic; there's less of a Wow! factor here, less fun (Yates made the brave decision to spare us another game of Quidditch), and more a sense of grim determination. Like I said, it's a difficult age.