OK, here's the deal. Harry Potter fans are going to be completely satisfied with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, directed by English television veteran David Yates. At least the younger fans will be.

Older fans already paying mortgages and renting their own apartments will like it, but may wish for something closer to the more artistically satisfying Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, directed by Alfonso Cuaron. He appreciated the importance of all those surreally swirling special effects, but he more importantly understood the value of heart. He knew we wanted to smell the mildewed pages of ancient texts in the library of the Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, feel the polished wood of centuries-old banisters and sit at the heavy banquet tables in the dining hall.

What we get from Yates is loads of whiz-bang special effects. He piles on so much digital razzmatazz to no emotional effect that we could call Yates the Kenny G of CGI. Every imaginable excuse for hauling out more computer magic, preferably involving massive explosions, is written into the script.

Harry has frightening dreams, often with flashbacks of violence. There are several dramatic escapes on speeding broomsticks. Classroom lessons in the Dark Arts go awry.

Some dragonlike flying creatures called Thestrals swoop in. Harry trains the Dumbledore Army of fellow students to use their wands aggressively, because he fears an attack by Lord Voldemort. Tons of stuff like that.

It would be a shame to see this fine British series (with two more movies yet to be made) deteriorate into just another cynical American action flick full of sound and fury signifying nothing. We love Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), Hermione (Emma Watson) and Ron (Rupert Grint) for the natural chemistry they have as friends. We like to see them struggle together and triumph over their own fumbling mistakes, filled with the punk, spunk and spirit that encourages us to believe this new crop of kids has the moxie to make our muggle world a better place.

But Yates has turned J.K. Rowling's 800-plus page tome of adventure rich with whimsical detail and adolescent angst into a sketchy, bare- bones plot pitting Harry against all the adults.

As his role gets bigger, the importance of Ron and Hermione shrinks. The villainy confronting Harry has switched, as well, from annoying Hogwarts classmates like Draco Malfoy to the fully-grown and extremely sinister Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes). A major portion of the plot is Harry's insistence that Voldemort is creating a dark and deadly force of sinister spirits intent on destroying the good wizards of the world.

Of course, no one at the Ministry of Magic believes Harry. Like every good rebel, he feels isolated and alone. Introduced to torment Harry is a Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton).

In her fuzzy pink suit and comfortable shoes, she presents bureaucratic attitudes brilliantly close to a parody of the blended conformity in present day political correctness. A cheerful smile is Professor Umbridge's deadly disguise. On the surface she never wants to offend anyone.

Pretending she prefers peace to violence, what she truly wants is to weaken the students' skills of self-defense, making Hogwarts more vulnerable to capture. This horrifies Harry, who strikes back in anger, making him the professor's personal enemy. We who have watched Harry's class at Hogwarts mature since the first movie was released in 2001 were happy to learn this book contains the tender details of Harry's first blush with romance.

None of that gets into the movie, either. Harry and his first love, Cho Chang (Katie Leung) do cast a few fetching glaces at each other but that's it. There is The Kiss, but it has none of the sweet innocence we enjoyed in the upside-down kiss between Spider-Man and Mary Jane.

In fact, after a couple of seconds our Harry and Cho are sharing wet kisses that don't look all that innocent. Have they been making out behind our backs? Say it isn't so.