THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADOR (2010) *** I haven't read the C. S. Lewis books-it turns out that I should have, and may yet-but having seen the films I feel quite comfortable (like someone who's closely read Cliff's Notes) expounding on my learned observations: In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe Lewis painted far-flung metaphors with a broad brush, in essence creating a palate of mysticism, an esoteric arena. In this book, I mean film, Lewis-I think then they-focus on certain elements of the landscape, pinpointing specific areas of esoteric interest: self, identity, greed, transformation, and whichever ones I missed. The Lion is a more exhilarating achievement, but this perhaps a more useful one. The movie? Oh, you want to hear about the movie? Well, it's a very good movie, entertaining…you need not seek or receive edification in order to enjoy it. I don't usually pay all that much attention to special effects, and am particularly uninterested in viewing or analyzing CGI…but I cannot think of a film with better CGI effects than this one. All of this terribly absurd and tremendous stuff is happening with dragons, and spirits and waves that don't break…and I didn't really even think about it much…if Lewis made it all credible with the tale, the film makers did no less with the science. Ben Barnes really is a calmly regal Prince Caspian, adorning, I suspect, so many of the walls in the young ladies' dorm at Oxford. Laura Brent has star quality of a magnitude that she can turn on in a brief appearance, Tilda Swinton is an actress of such magnitude that she can get things going even when she's not entirely there, and Rachel Blakely manages to play her part beautifully without ever even being in the middle of the frame or saying anything. But the best performance of all…Lewis' gentle insights are slight, necessarily blurred by the medium of language and film, and incremental…so it took more than half an hour for the film to gain critical mass for me…during that time I was more than ably entertained by young Will Poulter, whose every appearance and utterance were the key that kept me locked in to pick up on the heavier stuff, as Lewis' ever increasingly removed the veils.
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