Susan (Anna Popplewell),
Peter (William Moseley) and
Lucy (Georgie Henley) face
an enemy of Narnia.
BY MOLLY TEMPLETON
Always Winter
The Chronicles of Narnia start with a stumble.
THE LION, THE WITCH
AND THE WARDROBE:
Directed and co-written by Andrew Adamson. Co-written
by Ann Peacock, Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely,
based on the book by C.S. Lewis. Produced by Mark
Johnson and Philip Steuer. Executive producers, Andrew
Adamson and Perry Moore. Cinematography, Donald M.
McAlpine. Production design, Roger Ford. Editors, Sim
Evan-Jones, Jim May. Costume designer, Isis Mussenden.
Visual effects supervisor, Dean Wright. Music by Harry
Gregson-Williams. Starring Georgie Henley, Skandar
Keynes, William Moseley, Anna Popplewell, Tilda Swinton,
James McAvoy, Jim Broadbent, and Liam Neeson. Walt
Disney Pictures and Walden Media, 2005. 140 minutes. PG.
I
t should come as no real surprise that The
Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe is not
quite what was advertised. The movie’s
trailer, as is so often the case, showed great
promise, with epic moments flashing past so
quickly you’re left with just a tingling sense
of excitement and anticipation. Wardrobe is
also not quite the faithful adaptation of C.W.
Lewis’ book that it’s been made out to be.
There are no drastic changes in plot or char-
acter, but there is a change in tone, as Lewis’
slightly stuffy, old-fashioned and beloved
narration is twisted inside-out to become a
children’s movie packed with scenes just
aching to reach heights of tension and peril.
Wardrobe begins with a scene only men-
tioned in passing in Lewis’ book: The WWII
bombing of London. It’s an interesting addi-
tion, setting up parallels with the battle for
Narnia, but it’s used mostly to paint charac-
ters in broad strokes, as when Peter (William
Moseley) hollers at Edmund (Skandar
Keynes), “Why can’t you just do as you’re
told!” It’s hard to like Peter much after that,
which isn’t the point; we’re supposed to
glower righteously at Edmund for, in a mo-
ment of heavy-handed foreshadowing, put-
ting everyone else in peril.
The film takes its time getting to the real
beginning of things, when, during a game of
hide-and-seek, Lucy (Georgie Henley) hides
in a great wardrobe. She stumbles — as the
in-the-know audience holds its breath — into
a snowy forest in Narnia, where she meets
Mr. Tumnus (James McAvoy), the faun.
Tumnus tells Lucy it’s been winter for a hun-
dred years in Narnia, due to the spell of the
White Witch. Back in England, Lucy’s sib-
lings don’t believe her; when Edmund wan-
ders into Narnia on his own, he falls prey to
the Witch, who asks him to bring his sisters
and brother to her. There’s a prophecy about
two Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve who
will come to save Narnia. The Witch would
like to kill the children, ensuring her contin-
ued reign; the animals of Narnia want to take
them to Aslan (voiced by Liam Neeson), the
great lion, whose power is, we’re assured, the
only thing that can save the wayward
Edmund from the Witch.
What doesn’t work in Wardrobe is no fault
of its young stars. The Pevensie children are
wide-eyed and rosy-cheeked, from bossy
Peter to practical Susan (Anna Popplewell) to
sullen Edmund to cheery, imaginative Lucy.
But the funny thing, for a magical children’s
movie, is that the most human-like adults
steal the show. As the White Witch, Tilda
Swinton takes the sinister elegance that made
her the best part of Constantine and repack-
ages it with icy power. Alas, Swinton herself
is packed into some less than elegant gowns.
James McAvoy’s Tumnus couldn’t be more
perfect (though his torso’s faux-fur covering
certainly could). The little foot-stomp
Tumnus does to rid his feet of snow is a de-
lightful moment. McAvoy conveys a much-
needed solemnity in his role, raising the level
of the entire movie by doing so.
The other funny thing is that Wardrobe
seems uncertain about what sort of movie it is.
The screenplay ramps up the narrative tension
almost unbearably — unbearable because it’s
not actually tense, not for a moment. When
Lucy is lost during a chase scene, it’s clear
she’ll turn up in a moment. Harry Gregson-
Williams’ score does its overwrought best to
convince the audience that danger is around
every corner, but it leads the action with
alarming regularity, rather than underscoring
what should be conveyed by the images and
actors. The battle is visceral and fierce, with
flying casualties and striking thuds as the
armies of Peter and the Witch clash; the scene
on the Stone Table is wrenching and cruel. But
there is never any blood, not even when Aslan
tells Peter to clean his sword. The movie seeks
to be more epic than the contained story it’s
based on, but thwarts itself by being painless,
bloodless and sweet, with a childish tendency
to make the bad guys hideous and the good
guys noble and fair. Even in Narnia things
aren’t that simple.
ew
DECEMBER 29, 2005 21