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First, a confession: I belong to that rare breed of American that has yet to crack the spine of any of J.K. Rowling's boy-wizard epics. So fidelity to the source is not one of my criteria for judging the Potter series. Regardless of what has transpired on the page, the films have grown and developed, from Chris Columbus' double-shot of clumsy childhood exuberance, through Alfonso Cuaron's elegant and darker maturity, and now into the disillusionment of adolescence.

Mike Newell, the first director in the series to share Harry's accent, has turned in a veddy British entry, a 14 Up peek into a rough year at boarding school. More effort is expended on social climbing than learning spells, and puberty is a far greater threat than any dragon. Typically a pedestrian filmmaker at best, Newell has stepped into an established world and cut straight to the heart of the characters inhabiting it. In the process he has made the series' best film thus far, a rich fantasy grounded in threshold-of-adulthood confrontations with sexuality and mortality. Calling Goblet of Fire a film for children is a misinterpretation on a par with celebrating It's a Wonderful Life as a cheery holiday tradition.

The crux of the story is the Tri-Wizard Tournament, an international competition being held at Hogwarts, in which Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) inadvertently becomes the fourth entry. In town for the contest are two groups from other schools: a band of militaristic Bulgarians led by the Rasputin-like Igor Karkaroff (Predrag Bjelac), and a gaggle of French lovelies chaperoned by the enormous Madame Maxime (Frances de la Tour). Meanwhile Harry is having recurring nightmares predicting the imminent return of Lord Voldemort.

Perhaps more important than the contest itself to our hormone-addled heroes is the accompanying ball. Despite the tournament's prestige, the challengers evince a certain camaraderie on the field; the competition only gets cutthroat when it comes time to find a date. The macho Bulgarians provide nerve-wracking rivalry, while the French girls are perilous purely for their exaggerated femininity. Jealousies threaten the core relationships between Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson).

Even without picking up any of the books, I couldn't help notice the increasing amount of shelf space they've come to occupy. Accordingly, Newell and screenwriter Steve Kloves have streamlined the narrative. The most obvious deletions are the series' trademark images and recurring characters: Maggie Smith's McGonagall is reduced to a cameo, while Alan Rickman's Snape gets scarcely more. Precious little time is spent in the classroom, and all of that with new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher "Mad-Eye" Mooney, played by Brendan Gleeson as the sort of ranting, bug-eyed looney only Terry Gilliam could love.

Dumbledore's role is expanded, and Michael Gambon's assumption of the part seems even more fortunate than in The Prisoner of Azkaban. Morally conflicted by his decision to allow Harry to compete, Dumbledore can only look on with helpless dread as his young ward shoulders his burden. As the wizard announces each of the tournament tasks, the starting cannons fire prematurely, a running gag played straight enough to underline a central theme: The students are coming to realize that their impending adulthood will not assure their infallibility.

Along with Harry's disillusionment comes a more literal one for the film itself; gone are all of the gee-whiz visions of the magical world. There are no moving staircases and a single shot of one of the living paintings. Instead, Newell focuses on a pair of stained glass windows, the first appearing to cry as one of the film's many downpours falls against it, the other a preening mermaid seeming to sexually taunt Harry as he bathes. The same role is played by the frisky Moaning Myrtle, the only one of Hogwarts' resident spirits to make an appearance.

Despite the opening scene being set at the Quidditch World Cup, the game is never played onscreen. The soccer (er, football, sorry) frenzy of the World Cup erupts into gritty, frame-packed chaos as the attendees' tent city is put to the torch by an army of pointy Klan-hooded Death Eaters. While the interiors of the tents are magically luxurious, the tiny exteriors resemble a makeshift refugee camp, and the evocation of real-life horrors sets the bleak tone that the rest of the film upholds.

As Harry puts childhood behind him, he is informed by Dumbledore that he will soon face a choice "between what is right and what is easy," and faces shattering pain even at his moment of greatest triumph. Ralph Fiennes is memorably nasty as the reptilian Voldemort, but his greatest threat is obviously still to come. Here, Harry's hardest challenge, after facing dragons and undersea creatures, is wandering a labyrinth seemingly fueled by its inhabitants' doubts and fears. For all of the evil that he's had to face, Harry is learning that the hardest struggle is being alone with yourself.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Directed by Mike Newell A Warner Bros. release Opens Friday at area theaters