| On my bookshelf stands a paperback edition of C.S. Lewis’s most popular, and perhaps most cherished, literary works, The Chronicles of Narnia. The pages are slowly yellowing and part of the backing is ripped. Still, the embossed letters have retained their golden sheen, and the book’s 776 pages (it’s a collected edition) contain the same words and illustrations that I read and saw only yesterday, it seems.
However, it isn’t quite yesterday that I became acquainted with the books. Indeed, a decade has passed since I read the series, and Prince Caspian in particular, which has now been released as a Walt Disney / Walden Media film adaptation.
Directed by Andrew Adamson (also responsible for the 2005 adaptation of Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,) Prince Caspian details the return of Lucy, Susan, Edmund and Peter (Georgie Henley, Anna Popplewell, Skandar Keynes and William Moseley respectively) to Narnia. This time, it is the magic of a speeding subway train that pulls them into the wondrous realm, and not traversal through a wardrobe.
The four return to find a Narnia that is utterly different to the one they left – conquered by the fierce Telmarine race, in the throes of internal war, and missing its Narnian inhabitants (centaurs, dwarves) who have been driven into hiding. The story, however, centres upon Prince Caspian (Ben Barnes), the rightful heir to the throne of Narnia, who is forced to flee from certain death and the evil plans of his uncle, Miraz (Sergio Castellitto) who has been plotting to kill the young prince in order to become king.
The four brothers and sisters aid Caspian in his quest, with the film hurtling through epic battle scenes, magic, heroism and a hint of romance. The plot’s grand vista is underpinned by the essential staples of a children’s film script – with the narrative demanding (the now compulsory, it seems) themes of family, camaraderie, goodness and selflessness. Yet the film’s plot diverges in many respects from Lewis’s elegant narrative – the inclusion of an entire battle sequence not presented in the book being just one example.
Why does this matter, though? Well, it is here that we inevitably return to that tome of classic children’s literature on my bookshelf. Formerly, as an aficionado of Lewis’s books, I would perhaps have critiqued this film adaptation as unfaithful to its counterpart.
Perhaps, however, I have gotten used to the fact that every children’s book adaptation now demands a minimum of two battle sequences, and that protagonists cannot arrive at any film’s conclusion without having sustained cuts, bruises and torn costumes. (Perhaps the best, and at once most ludicrous, example of this was Daniel Radcliffe’s Harry Potter in The Philosopher’s Stone. How the young wizard suffered so many injuries in the final sequences is something the film’s creators will probably never know, and indeed can only be attributed to some form of celluloid ‘magic’.)
Regardless of Adamson’s interpretation, however, Prince Caspian is thoroughly entertaining, if overly battle-heavy. The children have matured in this second film, and visibly more robust emotional performances strengthen their characters. Fans of the novel will appreciate the darker, more savage costumes and characterisation of the Narnians; Sergio Castellitto’s performance as the evil Miraz provides the piece with a strong malevolent tone; while the interpretation of the Telmarines as a Spanish race provides an equally interesting touch. The special effects, too, have improved, and it is wonderful to see Tilda Swinton reprise a brief role as the (literally) frosty Jadis, from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
Whilst any film adaptation will never capture an original novel’s elegant narrative, or retain fidelity to its author’s voice, Prince Caspian is certainly a fine take on those aged, yellowing pages on bookshelves around the world.
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