The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Year:  2005

Filming:  Color

Length:  143 minutes

Genre:  Adventure/Christian/Family/Fantasy/Inspirational

Maturity:  PG (for fantasy violence and some scary imagery)

Cast:  Georgie Henley (Lucy Pevensie), Skandar Keynes (Edmund Pevensie),William Mosely (Peter Pevensie), Anna Popplewell (Susan Pevensie), Tilda Swinton (Jadis, the White Witch), James McAvoy (Mr. Tumnus), Liam Neeson (Aslan), Jim Broadbent (Professor Kirk)

Director: Andrew Adamson

Personal Rating:  5 Stars

***

    In addition to the content itself, some films hold special significance because the nostalgic childhood memories they drum up. In the case of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, my fondness for it derives both from this and the fact that I think the producers did just about everything right in bringing C.S. Lewis’s Christian classic to life for a new generation of youth.

    Georgie Henley stars as Lucy Pevensie, a British refugee child fleeing London during the Blitz in WWII. Along with her older siblings, Peter, Susan, and Edmund, she is sent to live at the estate of a mysterious professor in the English countryside. While playing hide-and-seek in the mansion on a rainy day, Lucy stumbles across a large wardrobe which she chooses as her hiding place. To her amazement, she discovers a magical land covered in snow on the other side. Studying a lamp-post stuck in the ground, she encounters a quizzical faun named Mr. Tumnus who invites her to have tea with him at his home.

    But what should be a peaceful environment is under the icy spell of Jadis, the White Witch, who styles herself Queen of Narnia. She is afraid of humans because of an ancient prophecy that they will bring about her overthrow, and orders all those who encounter them to turn them over to her. Tumnus intends to this, but he soon comes to be quite fond of Lucy, and helps her escape back through the wardrobe. When Lucy returns to the "real world", her siblings refuse to believe her fantastic story. However, she manages to return to Narnia and is followed by her brother Edmund, who encounters the White Witch first hand.

   

    Playing on the boy’s rivalry with his siblings and love of Turkish Delights, she manages to convince Edmund that she wants to adopt him and asks him to bring his siblings Narnia to be his “servants” when he reigns as prince at her royal palace across the mountains. Reuniting with Lucy before exiting the wardrobe and returning to their world, he proceeds to deny that he has ever been to Narnia, making his sister look like either a liar or mentally unstable.

    However, eventually all of the Pevensie children found themselves drawn into the wardrobe and the magical kingdom on the other side. Befriended by the very chatty Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, Lucy and her siblings are informed about the prophecy that puts them at the center of Narnia’s redemption. But when they are encouraged to rendezvous with the all-powerful lion, Aslan, on the other side of the country, Susan insists that they return to the real world before any of them can get hurt.

    But Edmund has already started on his way to the ice palace of the White Witch lured by her false promises of a princely life. Instead of finery, he is ordered to divulge the whereabouts of his siblings, which he does, still not completely aware of the Witch’s intent. Then he is thrown into her dungeon where Mr. Tumnus is being imprisoned. Meanwhile, the beavers and Pevensies manage to escape Queen Jadis’s wolves through an underground tunnel and are told that Aslan is the only one who can possibly save their brother from the White Witch.

    As they embark on the perilous journey across Narnia, signs of life are gradually returning to the icy landscape. Father Christmas, who has not visited in generations, brings the children presents of a serious nature: Peter receives a sword and shield; Susan, a bow and arrows; and Lucy, a bottle of special nectar that has the power to heal all wounds. When Father Christmas comes and goes, it becomes increasingly apparent that spring is coming to Narnia. Meanwhile, the White Witch realizes her power and fading and becomes even more desperate in her methods.

    The Pevensies finally reach the resistance camp and meet Aslan, who agrees to help them rescue their brother. After Edmund is taken to safety, Aslan has a private talk with the boy and tells his siblings that his betrayal is not to be spoken of in a gesture of forgiveness. But the White Witch calls a parley and demands that Edmund should be delivered to her for execution according to her ancient claim on all traitors. Aslan offers himself in exchange, and slain with a dagger on the great Stone Table. Meanwhile, Peter must rise to the challenge of leading the army of Aslan in his stead, even though he is almost certain of defeat. The result is the ultimate battle of good vs. evil to determine the fate of Narnia and the power of sacrificial love in the face of blinding hate.

    Although I disliked the Narnia books in my youth, this movie gave me a fresh perspective and deeper appreciation for the mind of C. S. Lewis. I am impressed with the way he managed to lace Christian allegory into a children’s fairy-tale in a way that could be appreciated by anyone, and watching the film actually made me wish I could have a conversation with the author. Also, as I mentioned, memories from my childhood makes me get a little emotional revisiting the wardrobe and its many wonders.

    There will be constant comparisons made between The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings film franchises with regards to both plot and visuals, and LotR will always win the prize for more complex and sophisticated contest on both accounts. But here’s the thing: they really shouldn’t be compared since they are totally different entities. Tolkien wrote the first “adult fantasy”, and as such the movies have an almost mythological feel to them. Lewis meant his Narnia to be more of a classic bedtime story containing a profound message of redemption through a Christian allegory. Both accomplished what they intended, and both should be appreciated as such.

    While both may be edifying and deeply religious pieces of classic literature, for me personally, I find LotR a much more disturbing thing to watch, and if I just want to enjoy myself, I’d happily go for Narnia any day. For a family-friendly fantasy flick, I thought this had a nice balance of human emotion and decent special effects. Some of the CGI may have been a bit cheesy in some of the scenes, but overall I thought it was tastefully handled. I was especially impressed with the majestic climax in the battle sequence which was achieved with sweeping grandeur but barely any gore. 

      For a family movie for young people (I hesitate to say “children” because I’ve seen it shelved it the “Teen” section, and I think that fits just as well), the acting was pretty good. I’ll admit that the way the children interacted with the "mythical creatures" struck me as a bit hoaky, and their manner of speaking in general used modern lingo as opposed to the type speech used by British people in the 1940's when the story is supposed to be taking place. But for what it was, it was definitely decent enough. I particularly found Tilda Swinton to be the perfect pick to play the White Witch, because of her ability to deftly switch from gentleness to wrath. I also thought the relationship between Lucy and Mr. Tumnus was darling, and they had a good chemistry on screen.

  

    Anything involving Aslan appealed to me. I was a bit leery at first how the film would portray the Great Lion, since it would similar to the difficulty Biblical epics have with portraying Christ. But I think the producers clinched it. He is not only powerful and awesome, sacrificial and sorrowful, but also capable of joy and laughter. He is “real”. Liam Neeson did a great job on the voice, and the computerized lion really looked like a lion. My two favorite scenes involving Him prominently have to be his parley with the witch and subsequent death on the Stone Table. I love His line: “Don’t speak of ancient magic to me, Witch; I was there when it was written!”  

    The execution sequence is quite intense, and I think fully earned the rating “PG” for this film. The details of having the minions of darkness cut off Aslan’s mane and beat him before strapping him to the Stone Table brings Christ’s torments vividly to mind in a new way. Also, I found it poignant that a boy named Peter should be chosen to lead the lion’s army in his absence. C.S. Lewis was not a Catholic, but he had a high-church view of many things. I cannot help but wonder if perhaps it was an intentional reference to “the rock” on which Christ said He would build his Church. Even if it wasn’t pre-planned, it’s worthy of being pointed out as another layer of interpretation.

    The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a delightful family film and spiritual exercise. Perfect for Easter, it still achieves what Lewis intended, giving the timeless story of Christ fresh color through the medium of a fairy-tale. Standing out as a technical achievement in contrast to the BBC adaptation from the ‘80s, it may not be Tolkien, but it is a triumph in its own right, and a finely-crafted addition to the fantasy genre.  

Peter Pevensie (William Mosely) prepares to lead Aslan's Army 

Quo Vadis

Year:  1951

Filming:  Color

Length:  171 minutes

Genre:  Drama/Epic/Inspirational/Religious/Romance

Rating:  PG (for intense thematic elements)

Cast:  Robert Taylor (Marcus Vinicius), Deborah Kerr (Lygia), Peter Ustinov (Nero), Buddy Baer (Ursus), Leo Genn (Petronius), Marina Berti (Eunace), Patricia Laffan (Poppaea), Finlay Currie (Peter)

Director:  Mervyn LeRoy   

Personal Rating:  4 Stars

***

    Post-WWII America nurtured an increasingly religious atmosphere that set the stage for a burst of cinematic achievement involving Biblical subject matter. Generated in part by the widespread panic over Communism taking root during the Cold War, many of these movies contain pretty blatant attempts to make far-fetched historical comparisons, inserting modern themes and ideals into an ancient setting. Still, the best of the bunch have managed to retain much of their timeless power. Quo Vadis, the epic historical fiction drama of conflict and conversion, is certainly among them.

    Robert Taylor stars at Marcus Vinicius, a Roman officer newly returned to his homeland after fighting in foreign wars. While visiting a retired general and his wife, he falls madly in love with their ward and adopted daughter, Lygia, who had been brought to Rome as a barbarian hostage years before. Attracted by her beauty, Marcus wastes no time trying to woo and win her. But when Lygia resists his advances, he callously arranges for her to taken away from her adopted parents and brought to the palace of the Emperor Nero, where he hopes to be made her new “guardian”.

   Lygia eventually manages to escape back to her parents with the help of Ursus, her loyal body-guard. Undeterred, Marcus goes in search of her, hiring a Greek guide to track her down. In the process, he discovers that Lygia and her parents are converts to the new Christian religion, and that their philosopher friend, Paul, is actually the famous Apostle to the Gentiles. After he tries to recapture Lygia as she is leaving a Christian gathering, a street fight ensues in which Ursus again comes to the rescue, Marcus is injured, and his guide is killed. Mercifully, Lygia nurses her pursuer back to health and admits she does feel some attraction for him. Nevertheless, she maintains that Christ will always have precedence in her heart. This wounds his pride, and he leaves her in anger, vowing never to be lured by the Christian beauty again.

    Meanwhile, Emperor Nero hatches a plot to burn Rome so that he can write an epic poem about the conflagration and build a new city in its wake. Marcus’s uncle, Senator Petronius, tries to use to his influence and wits to keep the emperor’s madness in check, but his efforts prove to be in vain. Marcus realizes that Lygia will be trapped in the inferno and rushes to her rescue, in spite of Nero’s wife, Poppaea, who lusts after the young Roman officer and tries to prevent him from going.

    After outracing the Emperor’s charioteers en route to Rome, Marcus makes his way through the burning city, locate Lygia, and force the Praetorian Guard to open a bridge they were blocking to prevent Nero’s palace from being raided. As the mob pours into the palace courtyard, Poppaea convinces Nero to make a scapegoat out of the Christians, in hopes of doing away with Marcus’s Christian lover. Although Petronius warns Nero that by condemning the Christians he will be condemning himself in the eyes of history, the emperor takes her advice and unleashes a firestorm of persecution.

     Meanwhile, Peter the Apostle receives a heavenly vision on the Appian Way telling him to return to Rome to minister to the persecuted Christians there. He discovers that they are being burned alive and thrown to the lions for their faith, and boldly exhorts them to hold fast from the top of the amphitheatre before being arrested himself. He is thrown into the same cell as Lygia and Marcus, both of whom have been arrested by the imperial government for treason. Awaiting inevitable execution, they both realize the true meaning of love before facing the ultimate test of faith in the amphitheatre.

    In the tradition of many of the great Biblical epics of the era, Quo Vadis is top-notch cinematography. Triumphant Roman legions march in a splendid parade; lavish feasts unfold at Nero’s court; Rome is incinerated through the fury of the emperor’s insanity; Christians are brutally tortured and martyred in the lion pit; Nero is overthrown in a mass popular uprising. The panorama alone is impressive, and the Technicolor grandeur is a feast for the eyes. Happily, the film also manages to keep the bulk of the plot up to par in the realm of emotional intensity and human sentiment rather than letting it get drowned out by impressive visuals. Unfortunately, while the Hollywood backdrops and characters are bold and brilliant, historical accuracy tends to have been shoved to the back burner.

    For example, while Nero was certainly no piece of cheesecake and put the Christians through Hell on earth, he was also a much more complex and multi-faceted character than the practically-evil-in-every-way villain that the film portrays. It is almost certain he was innocent of the burning of Rome, and never tried to incinerate the people inside. Actually, he went over and above to provide assistance for the distressed population, opening his palaces to house them and food and medical stores to provide for their needs. He even headed expeditions into the smoldering ruins to search out survivors. The legend of him “fiddling” while the city went up in smoke was likely devised to mock the emperor’s musical performances which many people felt were below his station. He, meanwhile, had a very exalted opinion of his own artistry, and, as the film depicts, could be quite obnoxious about it!

    Nero did indeed blame Christians for the fire and unleashed a horrific persecution against them, but this was not the main reason for his overthrow. Rather, it had to do with economic pressure, and the anarchical state that came about in the wake of Nero’s regime resulted in the execution of his replacement, Emperor Gaius, and intense factional infighting. While it’s true that he did have one of his attendants help him commit suicide, but it was not by the hand of one of his disillusioned former lovers. Furthermore, he did not strangle Poppaea in a fit of rage beforehand. Far from it; he actually went into an almost inconsolable state of grief when she died of natural causes! 

    In essence, in its eagerness to heighten the conflict between Pagan Rome and the Early Christian Church, Quo Vadis takes multitudinous liberties with the facts. But then, who among us cannot admit that Peter Ustinov was brilliant in his portrayal of a tyrant both diabolically insane and also darkly humorous in his childish tantrums that bring death and destruction on so many? It may be hyperbole, but its delicious hyperbole nonetheless. I still think it would have been better if they just stuck to the historical script, but I would also venture to say that, unlike the inventive spurts in Braveheart, nothing is going to be irreparably damaged as a result in this day and age. 

    Robert Taylor shows himself to be a decent actor in his role as Marcus, but what you see is pretty much what you get in every role this guy has ever played, whether the setting is Ancient Rome or Medieval England or the American Old West. In Quo Vadis, his wolfish chasing after Lygia turns me off to his character almost instantly, and I find it hard to understand why she should suddenly find him so lovable just because he got hurt after a struggle with her body-guard!

    Marcus's better self does come out later in the film, but I think it would have been much more natural if Lygia’s fondness for him had been revealed then instead of out of nowhere earlier on. The couple’s dialogue in prison has more substance then anything else in their romantic romp. Lygia does try to explain how she “sensed” his inner goodness beneath the predatory exterior, and expresses her desire to have been able to bear him a son. Marcus, for his part, explains his difficulty in believing in Christ, in spite of his admitted admiration for the Christians. They are subsequently married in the prison by Peter the Apostle.

    It is a treat to be able to watch a well-acted dramatization of the pious legends involving St. Peter in Rome, including his encounter with Christ on the Appian Way who tells him to return to Rome lest He be crucified a second time. Peter does return and is crucified, upside-down, on Vatican Hill, the current headquarters of the Church Nero tried to destroy so long ago. And who could not love Finlay Currie in the role of Peter, the grandfatherly guardian of the early Church? Who could feel the urge to let out a rousing cheer when he returns to Rome to encourage his spiritual children in the arena to stand fast for Christ? Who could not feel a chill run up his spine to hear them sing in a hymn of praise in the face of death? As a Catholic, this is about as inspirational as religious movie-making gets.

    Leo Genn as Petronius makes the ultimate “noble pagan”, from his cynical witticisms to his dignified suicide. His dying request that Nero should resign himself to “butchering his people, but not the arts” in reference to his song-writing is the most satirically scrumptious line in the movie. The film clearly points to him as a symbol of the best of Roman culture, while at the same time showing that the sun is slowly setting on the empire and her old ways. Natural virtue is gradually yielding to supernatural enlightenment, and the world is soon to change forever.

    Petronius’s mistress, Eunice, is also a source of sympathy, demonstrating natural passions that blossom into true love and end with the taking of her life to join her dying lover. We may not be inspired to commend her for her actions, but we probably won’t condemn her either. She is so very human, just like Petronius, and they probably prove more relatable to the average viewer than the Christians portrayed. Perhaps there is something in them that shows goodness is monopolized, and that God is reflected in all His creation, whether they believe in Him fully or not. And in the end, there may be hope for the two them after all through a miracle of grace, for as Petronius says, “If the Christians are right, this will be but a brief parting.”

    Patricia Laffan as Pompea is a blood-curdling seductress, with wickedness and wiles that liken to gifts straight from the devil. While the issues of character assassination do play a role here, this portrayal is so wonderfully wicked that she makes an excellent counterpart to the fictionalized Nero. She’s also the right woman for the job of setting into the motion the climax by ordering Lygia to dressed as a bride and tied to a state in the amphitheatre. The only thing standing between her and a savage, ground-pawing bull is her long-suffering body-guard, Ursus.

     The intensity of this physical struggle is matched by Marcus’s interior struggle as he is held captive in the emperor’s box, forced to watch helplessly as the fight to the death between man and beast unfolds. Straining at the ropes that bind his hands, realizing his total inability to effect the results, the faith that he could never manage to find finally comes to him in a flood, and he prays for Ursus through gritted teeth, “Christ, give him strength!” The sheer passion behind this desperate plea makes it one of the most memorable and moving parts of the film.

    Quo Vadis is one of those momentous achievements in cinematic history that can never be recaptured. The plot may be historically inaccurate in parts, and some of the themes from Post-war America may be dated, but the true story of the sacrifices made by the Christian martyrs is timeless and needs to be retold. In an age that has become increasingly secular and indifferent, all Christians are called to walk our own Appian Way and ask, “Quo Vadis, Domini? Where are you going, Lord?” When we find the answer to that question, like St. Peter, we must pick up our crosses and follow.  

Marcus (Robert Taylor) admires Lygia (Deborah Kerr) at Nero's court