The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (1950)

Here we are.  Even though, having read the series before, I don’t mind going through it within-the-story chronologically instead of as-written chronologically, I feel it’s still a little trickier to talk about in that order.  The other books have plenty to recommend them, and in general, I wouldn’t say The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is necessarily my favorite of the series, but in terms of talking about them, it really is easiest when you can use this book as a foundation upon which the others are built.

Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy are four siblings evacuated from London during World War II.  Sent to live in the country with an odd but kindly professor, the children are shaken from what they expect to be a dreary, rather lonely stay when Lucy makes an unbelievable discovery:  the ornate wardrobe in the spare room serves as a gateway to another world.  In the land of Narnia, she (and later her siblings) learn that they may in fact be the very saviors prophesied to rid Narnia of the tyrannical White Witch, who has cursed the land with an eternal winter.  They are aided by the friends they meet there in the Narnian resistance, who, in addition to having waited many years for the prophecy to come to pass, have also pinned their hopes on the long-awaited return of Aslan, the Great Lion.

A big part of the story’s appeal, I’d say, is in the charm of its details.  Entering another world through a wardrobe, an English lamppost in a fantasy land (shades of the TARDIS in Doctor Who, which followed a little over ten years later,) a fully-furnished beaver dam with Mrs. Beaver fretting about how they can’t bring the sewing machine with them on the run from the White Witch.  These little moments do a lot to flesh out both Narnia and the narrative at large, making you more forgiving of some of the story’s more obvious elements (i.e., these four English schoolkids who showed up like three days ago are destined to be the saviors of all Narnia in a ludicrously-timely fashion.)  But, hey – Aslan!  The White Witch!  Mr. Tumnus!  Narnians turned to stone and a Father Christmas who gives swords as presents!  It’s all good, right?

I kid, I kid.  No, it’s not perfect, but it does create something fairly special that’s become an iconic part of Britain’s children’s literature.  The four children are drawn lightly but pretty well, the White Witch is a great villain in this, her first actual rodeo, and the legend of Aslan nicely precedes the reality of him.  As far as the Christian allegory is concerned, it’s very pointed, but since it was written for children, that’s understandable, and some of the parallels are quite well-written.  (I also like that the professor, in discussing whether or not Narnia could be real, uses the same “lie, delusion, or truth” argument that Lewis uses in reference to Jesus’s divinity.  Had Lewis already used it at this time, or did it originate here?  I know – what do they teach them at these schools, am I right?)

Warnings

Scary moments for kids, violence, and thematic elements.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (2005, PG)

I have mixed feelings about The Chronicles of Narnia films as a whole.  There are points where they absolutely shine and, in my opinion, improve on some of the black-and-whiteness of the books, but I also feel they have a tendency to keep drifting back toward something toothless, bloodless, and a little sterile.  Too much studio interference maybe?  It’s frustrating, because rewatching them, I do get the feeling that they might have been something really wonderful if they’d had the chance to (a few plot spoilers.)

Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy are four siblings evacuated from London during World War II.  Sent to live in the country with an odd but kindly professor, the children are shaken from what they expect to be a dreary, rather lonely stay when Lucy makes an unbelievable discovery:  the ornate wardrobe in the spare room serves as a gateway to another world.  In the land of Narnia, she (and later her siblings) learn that they may in fact be the very saviors prophesied to rid Narnia of the tyrannical White Witch, who has cursed the land with an eternal winter.  They are aided by the friends they meet there in the Narnian resistance, who, in addition to having waited many years for the prophecy to come to pass, have also pinned their hopes on the long-awaited return of Aslan, the Great Lion.

Of the three Narnia films, I think The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe might be the most inconsistent for me.  It has some of the best individual elements, but on the whole, it’s the one that most comes across as being a “safe” adaptation, with fewer risks taken and a slightly manufactured feel.  On the whole, the production design, CGI, and casting are all very good.  As with any film franchise of a beloved book series starring children, I think all four young actors improve as they go, but each does do a pretty good job of capturing the essence of their character from the start, especially the charming Georgie Henley as Lucy.  Iconic images from the book, like the lamppost, the Beavers’ lodge, the Stone Table, and the White Witch’s castle are all stunningly realized, and while the realistic-looking animals who talk look a bit silly in this year of pre-Jungle Book technology, it’s respectable enough for the time in which it was made.  On the latter front, the film is helped along by able voice-acting from the likes of Ray Winstone, Dawn French, Rupert Everett, and of course, Liam Neeson as Aslan.

For me, the film’s strongest points are easily James McAvoy’s Mr. Tumnus and the Tilda Swinton’s White Witch.  Both characters succeed so strongly on every level, looking and feeling as if they stepped right out of the pages of the book and conveying the clearest sense of truly being from another world (side note – this was the first movie I saw James McAvoy in, and his performance as Mr. Tumnus still remains one of my favorites of his.)  I love the warmth of Lucy’s scenes with Mr. Tumnus – the two of them shaking hands is just ludicrously adorable – and the White Witch exudes this seductive lure of power every second she’s onscreen; even though she’s blatantly capital-E Evil from the first moment she appears, you kind of understand the snakelike way she’s able to draw Edmund in.

Perhaps because it’s the first film in the franchise, perhaps because it’s the most iconic of the books, the movie is hindered by an unfortunate by-the-numbers feel.  As excellent as many of its individual parts are, they don’t always seem to come together into a compelling whole.  I have nothing but my own (biased) suspicions to base this on, but I have a feeling screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely, the duo behind the Captain America films and Agent Carter, were given increasingly freer reign with the story as the franchise progressed.  While I think Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader both benefit from the richer themes they found to explore with additions to the story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe feels more tied to the source material.  There are a few interesting threads tugged at here – the whole idea of the underground resistance movement feels a little more fleshed out, and the movie tries to lay a bit more groundwork for Edmund’s betrayal – but it never ventures too far from the established plot.

Warnings

Scary moments for kids, thematic elements, and some very Disneyfied violence.

A few thoughts on The Chronicles of Narnia

 

Mainly The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but some of my points could carry over to other books in the series as well.  Reading the books as a child, I of course enjoyed the fantasy narrative and picked up on the religious allegory, but it wasn’t until I revisited the stories as an adult that I noticed some intriguing parallels with British imperialism.  A bit of history – The Chronicles of Narnia was published in the early to mid ‘50s, very shortly after India’s independence, and C.S. Lewis himself came of age as the empire was declining after World War I.  As such he would have had been very aware of the British colonies around the globe, and this undoubtedly would have influenced his attitudes.

 

And so, we come to Narnia.  When the Pevensies arrive, it’s mostly populated by non-humans:  fauns, dwarves, centaurs, assorted talking animals, and so on.  As “Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve,” the Pevensies are extremely out of place.  In fact, biologically speaking, they have the most in common with the White Witch who rules Narnia with a magic-wielding fist.  At any rate, to the Pevensies, the Narnians are races of “others.”  They react to this otherness in different ways – Lucy takes to Narnia like a fish to water, for instance, and Edmund is suspicious and unsettled – but the people of Narnia are exotic, unlike them.

 

Now, Narnia has suffered under the Witch for years, but until the Pevensies come along, not much is done about it.  There’s talk of Aslan being “on the move” and a number of Narnians who align themselves against the Witch, but there doesn’t seem to be an organized resistance movement before the four children appear.  (It’s a bit vague, since by the time they trek across Narnia, Aslan is back on the scene with an amassed army, but it seems many are spurred to action by the hope that the Pevensies are the humans prophesied to defeat the Witch.)  So, it’s this weird situation where this entire kingdom, which apparently includes plenty of trained soldiers, is powerless to better their lives until these outsiders show up to organize and lead them.

 

Yep – years of fear and oppression, and the Pevensies (alongside Aslan, of course) oust the Witch and free Narnia in a shockingly timely fashion.  And once Narnia is out from under the thumb of the malevolent Witch (a foreign outsider in Narnia herself,) who do they appoint as their new monarchs?  Centaurs?  Talking animals?  Nymphs or dryads or fauns?  Nope, it’s the four humans.  School children who’ve only just arrived, never ruled, and only once fought in battle, are deemed the most fit to run the country.  (I know Aslan is the “rightful King of Narnia,” but he’s not really their monarch; he’s their god.  For day-to-day governance, Narnia is in the hands of the school kids.)

 

Why can’t the Narnians rule themselves?  Why are untested children from an unknown world considered preferable to homegrown citizens?  There’s never even a question of putting a Narnian on the throne, and when humans become more common (though still nonnative) in Narnia in later books, the exclusively human rulers persist.  It doesn’t make sense, until you think of those “poor” Indian, Chinese, and Irish people who “needed” England to come in and save them from themselves.  Following this British narrative, the natives are grateful and loving to their benevolent colonizers, and the Pevensies are indeed adored rulers.  It’s a startling parallel when you notice it, made even clearer by the fact that the Pevensies are so obviously unqualified for the job, but I’d bet money that Lewis never so much as realized he was doing it.