Opinion British actor Michael Gambon brought Dumbledore’s empathy to life

The rare vulnerability that actor Michael Gambon brought to that scene in his role as Dumbledore remains etched in the memories of Potterheads across the world.
Gambon, who died on September 27 at the age of 82, had first played the character in 2004 after the death of actor Richard Harris, who portrayed Dumbledore in the first two Harry Potter movies.

If Harris’s Dumbledore was larger-than-life and omniscient — remember him winking at Harry even though the latter was wearing an invisibility cloak? — Gambon would get enough screen time over the seven years he spent with the franchise to chronicle Dumbledore’s journey from being a radiant god-like figure to a fierce warrior with steely resolve as he duelled with Voldemort, to giving the audience peeks into the flaws in his character which only magnified his humaneness. And all this while, Gambon managed to retain the basic tenet of Dumbledore’s multi-layered personality — empathy.

It is empathy that has made Dumbledore one of the most-loved characters in the fantasy genre. Of course, there is no dearth of heroes and superheroes, caped figures who would bravely take a Kryptonite spear through their chest to save the people of Metropolis, and Tony Starks who would sacrifice their lives to protect Earth.

But what stands out in Dumbledore’s case is his constant and unflinching championing of those who are othered and frowned upon, the square pegs in a world full of round holes, whose downtrodden status is the result of a discriminatory, exclusionary worldview. When the headmaster of Hogwarts insists that he would promote his half-giant gamekeeper with a heart of gold to the position of a teacher, or when he speaks about the rights of battered house elves whose owners exploit them routinely, Gambon’s Dumbledore satiates our longing to see inclusivity in an increasingly majoritarian society.

It is not very difficult to find parallels between the real and the Potter world. The belief of Voldemort and his Death Eaters that no muggle-born children should be allowed to attend Hogwarts closely matches Hitler’s theory about racial superiority. The cold and terrifying dementors in the Potterverse, who would rid a person’s mind of all happiness, can easily resemble guards in detention camps, and we really don’t have to look far to find authoritarian regimes that brutally quash any dissent, just as Voldemort did.

Professor Dumbledore, with his purple robe and sweet tooth — his love for lemon drop candy is well documented — would always be empathetic towards lonely souls and complex characters, never hesitating to volunteer second chances (remember Severus Snape?) or to take a stand in their support even when public opinion was unfavourable.

By his admission, Dumbledore had rejected the post of the Minister of Magic several times because of his belief that he was not to be trusted with power, an assessment that in hindsight doesn’t seem correct at all after seeing the sheer number of people whose existence was made better by Dumbledore’s words and actions.

At the end of the sixth book, when Fawkes, Dumbledore’s pet phoenix, breaks into an impromptu elegy, it is reminiscent of Dumbledore’s empathy that changed the lives of many for the better, including a werewolf who was given a seat at the staff room in Hogwarts, a philosophical centaur ostracised by his community and an orphan, bespectacled boy who spent the first 11 years of his life in a cupboard under stairs, bullied and mistreated by his uncle, aunt and cousin.

A dialogue from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004), the first movie where Gambon played Dumbledore remains as relevant as ever, “Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”
For many characters from the book and scores of Potterheads in the real world, Dumbledore himself was a symbol of hope that lit up their lives.

deep.mukherjee@expressindia.com