Those who go to "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" expecting another "Lord of the Rings" or "Harry Potter" will be disappointed--but it's their own fault if they are. Just as C.S. Lewis' fairytale kingdom is a different animal entirely from Tolkien's culturally and historically complex Middle-Earth or Rowling's strange-yet-familiar Hogwarts, so the films based on these three landmark fantasy series differ in style and tone and must be taken on their own terms. And on its own terms, "Narnia" is a delight.
Like many stories in which denizens of our reality are thrust into another one, the opening scenes of "Narnia" are dark and dreary--it's World War II, the Germans are bombing London, and children are being sent to the countryside to ensure the future of the nation. The four Pevensie siblings find themselves relocated to a dusty mansion owned by a reclusive and eccentric professor (Jim Broadbent in a brilliant cameo) in a tiny backwater. The housekeeper tells the kids they are not to run, or touch anything, or in any way behave like normal children. It looks like they're in for a dull time--until youngest sister Lucy (Georgie Henley) discovers a wardrobe that opens up into Narnia, where animals and trees talk, centaurs and griffins roam freely and the entire country is on the brink of its own war between the evil White Witch (a chillingly cruel Tilda Swinton) and the lion-messiah Aslan (voice by Liam Neeson).
Lewis was vocally opposed to a live-action film of his vision--but in his day, this would have certainly meant people in animal suits and puppets. It would be presumptuous to speculate whether or not he would have approved of this Narnia, but for my own part I found it enchanting. From the moment Lucy backs her way through a sea of fur coats and is startled to brush against a snow-covered evergreen, director Andrew Adamson and his production team strike all the right notes visually and emotionally, while avoiding almost all the inherent stumbling blocks. A key example is the scene where Father Christmas (James Cosmo) enters Narnia, after the Witch's magic prevented the holiday for a century despite an endless winter. This is a moment that could have easily been dull or ridiculous, but it works here, with Cosmo providing a ideal physical embodiment of the hope and joy that has languished under the White Witch's rule. Humor abounds--Lucy's first encounter with the faun Tumnus (James McAvoy) is wonderfully light-hearted--but chases and battles pack the necessary punch, and the climactic scene where Aslan fulfills a dreadful bargain with the Witch is perfectly chilling. The visuals are splendid, and the computer-generated characters are mostly convincing--Aslan in particular is rendered with the right amount of quiet majesty and dignity, which compliments Neeson's restrained yet authoritative vocal performance.
Much has been made of the Christian parallels inherent in "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," but ultimately the religious undertones of the movie depend on the viewer. The allegory is clearly drawn for those who seek it, but it is not so obtrusive as to alienate those simply looking for a good family movie. With the wonders of "Narnia" playing right next door to the marvelous "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," young moviegoers and their parents have an embarrassment of riches this holiday.
Like many stories in which denizens of our reality are thrust into another one, the opening scenes of "Narnia" are dark and dreary--it's World War II, the Germans are bombing London, and children are being sent to the countryside to ensure the future of the nation. The four Pevensie siblings find themselves relocated to a dusty mansion owned by a reclusive and eccentric professor (Jim Broadbent in a brilliant cameo) in a tiny backwater. The housekeeper tells the kids they are not to run, or touch anything, or in any way behave like normal children. It looks like they're in for a dull time--until youngest sister Lucy (Georgie Henley) discovers a wardrobe that opens up into Narnia, where animals and trees talk, centaurs and griffins roam freely and the entire country is on the brink of its own war between the evil White Witch (a chillingly cruel Tilda Swinton) and the lion-messiah Aslan (voice by Liam Neeson).
Lewis was vocally opposed to a live-action film of his vision--but in his day, this would have certainly meant people in animal suits and puppets. It would be presumptuous to speculate whether or not he would have approved of this Narnia, but for my own part I found it enchanting. From the moment Lucy backs her way through a sea of fur coats and is startled to brush against a snow-covered evergreen, director Andrew Adamson and his production team strike all the right notes visually and emotionally, while avoiding almost all the inherent stumbling blocks. A key example is the scene where Father Christmas (James Cosmo) enters Narnia, after the Witch's magic prevented the holiday for a century despite an endless winter. This is a moment that could have easily been dull or ridiculous, but it works here, with Cosmo providing a ideal physical embodiment of the hope and joy that has languished under the White Witch's rule. Humor abounds--Lucy's first encounter with the faun Tumnus (James McAvoy) is wonderfully light-hearted--but chases and battles pack the necessary punch, and the climactic scene where Aslan fulfills a dreadful bargain with the Witch is perfectly chilling. The visuals are splendid, and the computer-generated characters are mostly convincing--Aslan in particular is rendered with the right amount of quiet majesty and dignity, which compliments Neeson's restrained yet authoritative vocal performance.
Much has been made of the Christian parallels inherent in "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," but ultimately the religious undertones of the movie depend on the viewer. The allegory is clearly drawn for those who seek it, but it is not so obtrusive as to alienate those simply looking for a good family movie. With the wonders of "Narnia" playing right next door to the marvelous "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," young moviegoers and their parents have an embarrassment of riches this holiday.