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Always
Winter 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.
It 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 character, 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 mentioned in passing in Lewis' book: The WWII bombing of London. It's an interesting addition, setting up parallels with the battle for Narnia, but it's used mostly to paint characters 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 moment of heavy-handed foreshadowing, putting 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 hundred years in Narnia, due to the spell of the White Witch. Back in England, Lucy's siblings don't believe her; when Edmund wanders 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 continued 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 repackages 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 delightful 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.
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