The Adaptation Station.com

Caspian, the Pevensies and the Narnians parade through the Telmarine capital as the populace cheer and throw flowers. OK, remember how I mentioned that cutting Aslan’, Bacchus and company restoring Beruna and other towns back to their natural, Narnian state had a negative impact on the story? This is it. Why would the Telmarines be cheering for the Narnians now? Given the world we’ve established, shouldn’t they view Glenstorm, Trumpkin, Reepicheep, etc. as dangerous freaks? Dangerous freaks that have risen seemingly out of nowhere and taken over their country? In the book, Dr. Cornelius tells Caspian that many of his fellow citizens secretly wish that their ancestors hadn’t destroyed the Old Narnians and in the end, we’re informed that “Some of (the Telmarines), chiefly the young ones, had, like Caspian, heard stories of the Old Days and were delighted that they had come back. They were already making friends with the creatures.” Idealistic, sure, but it works in the storybook context. Had the movie kept the scenes it cut from the book’s penultimate chapter, of some Telmarines fleeing from Aslan and the divine revelers while others happily join them, it would have been easier to communicate that some Telmarines would welcome a return to the Narnians’ golden age. As it is, I suppose it’s possible they’re cheering because they hate Miraz so much, but he’s been king for such a short time in this version that I doubt there’s any reason for them to consider him a tyrant. On the other hand, I really enjoy the scenes this movie has created showing him maneuvering his way onto the throne rather than having that all be in the past as in the book. See, this is why I decided to do a thirteen-part series on this adaptation instead of a couple of posts. It has so many issues of which I can see both sides. The best explanation for the peasants cheering for this victory parade, the best that I can come up with anyway, is that they’re frightened of what the new king will do to them if they don’t, and that cynical interpretation doesn’t fit in with the scene’s joyful atmosphere. It would work so much better if the movie had included those scenes from the book, some versions of them anyway. You may not like those scenes, but you’ve got to admit the story is incomplete without them.

But don’t feel too bad for the conquered Telmarines. We’ll soon see they get a happy ending of sorts. We transition to the Telmarine castle at night, lit up by fireworks. The next morning, Caspian emerges from the castle and walks across the courtyard. A(n uncredited) passing maidservant bows her head, a good way to establish Caspian is king now without the bother of showing the coronation. He sees Aslan talking to Peter and Susan. They all look very serious, particularly her.

“We are ready,” says Caspian, “Everyone has assembled.” This assembly turns out to be at the edge of one of the majestic cliffs near the castle.

“Narnia belongs to the Narnians just as it does to Man,” Caspian proclaims. “Any Telmarines who want to stay and live in peace are welcome to. But for any of you who wish, Aslan will return you to the home of our forefathers.” In the book, Aslan is the one who gives the equivalent of this speech but I’m fine with Caspian giving this part. He has so little to do in the second half of the story. “It’s been generations since we left Telmar,” says a(n also uncredited) Telmarine in the crowd. The script, by the way, gives these characters more dignity than does the book in which they grumble, “We don’t remember Telmar. We don’t know where it is. We don’t know what it is like.” “We’re not referring to Telmar,” says Aslan. “Your ancestors were seafaring brigands, pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world, the same world as our kings and queens.” The Pevensies react to this. You’d think Aslan would have already mentioned to Peter and Susan that the Telmarines come from their world in the little offscreen talk he gave them but, hey, the book implies that they were surprised at this point too. Caspian, in the book, expresses regret here that he didn’t come “of a more honorable lineage.” Aslan replies, “You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve. And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content.” I’d have loved it if the movie could have included that. It’s a great quote and I’d have liked to have seen Ben Barnes act the moment. Still, there are a lot of great things from the scene in the book that are included by the movie’s version.

“It is to that island I can return you,” continues Aslan. “It is a good place for any who wish to make a new start.” The Telmarines murmur amongst themselves. Suddenly, a voice in the back says, “I will go.” To Caspian’s surprise, the voice belongs to General Glozelle. “I will accept the offer,” he says. There’s a brief silence as he steps forward. Then, to Caspian’s further surprise, Prunaprismia says, “So will we,” and follows Glozelle. “We” includes the baby she’s holding and Lord Scythley who stands beside her. (At first, I thought the two of them had hooked up after her husband’s death but according to online material, he’s actually supposed to be her father.)

“Because you have spoken first,” says Aslan, “your future in that world shall be good.” Then he breathes on them, bestowing a blessing. Now, as I’ve written before, I’m against adaptations redeeming minor villains who weren’t redeemed in the source material but I’m willing to allow it here because otherwise the filmmakers would doubtless have cut this moment from the book and it’s an interesting one, being one of the few examples in The Chronicles of Narnia-almost the only example-of background antagonists showing decency and implying that they have a larger story about which we never learn. But if the first Telmarine to volunteer and receive the blessing had been a random guy we’d never seen before, as in the book, the randomness would likely have felt more confusing than intriguing.

Aslan then turns to two gnarled old trees that have grown twisted around each other at the edge of the cliff. They magically separate at their bases, creating a doorway leading seemingly off the cliff. In the book, this scene takes place in a glade with no cliff in sight and the magic doorway is just made out of three pieces of wood. I think the Hollywood gloss works in this instance.

Glozelle, Prunaprismia and her family, looking, in the book’s words, “startled but not unhappy,” step through the door and vanish. The crowd understandably panics. “How do we know he is not leading us to our deaths?” yells one man (Marcus ‘O Donovan.) “Sire, if my example can be of any service,” Reepicheep says to Aslan, “I will take eleven mice through with no delay.” This sacrificial offer on the mouse’s part is happily not played for laughs. Peter and Susan look at each other. Aslan gives them a look too. “We’ll go,” says Peter solemnly. “We will?” Edmund asks in surprise. “Come on, time’s up,” says Peter, “After all, we’re not really needed here anymore.” With those words, he hands his sword to a shocked Caspian. It’s a nice moment of redemption.

“I will look after it until you return,” says Caspian. “I’m afraid that’s just it,” Susan says gently. “We’re not coming back.” This is one of the scene’s quieter bombshells but it’s still a bombshell. “We’re not?” Lucy. “You two are,” Peter says, looking at her and Edmund. “At least I think he means you two,” he adds, turning to Aslan deferentially. Peter saying he thinks Aslan means Edmund and Lucy to return to Narnia rather than that he knows it is a good way of demonstrating he’s learned humility, and it comes from the book.^[1]While Peter wasn’t as arrogant in the literary Prince Caspian, he did express incredulity in Lucy’s claims on the grounds that Aslan had never been invisible to them before. Arguably, … Continue reading “But why? Did they do something wrong?” Lucy asks Aslan. “Quite the opposite, Dear One,” says Aslan. “But all things have their time. Your brother and sister have learned what they can from this world. Now it’s time for them to live in their own.” I know I’ve described Liam Neeson’s vocal performance as not very interesting in the past, but I really do admire how he conveys with lines like those that Aslan is amused by Lucy without sounding annoyingly smug. It really does give the impression that he’s a supernatural being with knowledge no one else has. The animators also do a great job with the character’s facial expressions. Incidentally, the part about the Pevensies needing to learn from Narnia wasn’t mentioned in the book version of Prince Caspian, only in the next book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It was probably a good idea to introduce the idea earlier because the idea that characters can grow too old for Narnia can be rather jarring to readers initially. Lucy still needs some comforting. Fortunately, Peter is ready to provide it. “It’s all right, Lu,” he says. “It’s not how I thought it would be. But it’s all right. One day you’ll see too. Come on.” That dialogue is quite close to that in the book. In fact, I almost think I like the way the movie phrases it better!^[2]For comparison, here’s the relevant quote. “It’s all rather different from what I thought. You’ll understand when it comes to your last time. But, quick, here are our … Continue reading I don’t remember saying that about anything in these scripts before!

The Pevensies bid farewell to the friends they’ve made. After an initially formal bow, Lucy impulsively gives Trumpkin a big hug.

Then…Oh no! Susan and Caspian are talking.

Susan: I’m glad I came back.
Caspian: I wish we had more time together.
Susan: It would never have worked anyway.
Caspian: Why not?
Susan: I am thirteen hundred years older than you.

Initially, the whole romantic tension thing between these characters was treated as a humorous subtext and while I thought the idea of adding romance to the story was dumb, I could kind of tolerate it, even laugh at and enjoy it. Then as the relationship was treated more seriously, with Caspian disappointing Susan and having to redeem himself in her eyes, it started to bug me more. But it was still presented as a subtext. Now, all of a sudden, it’s supposed to be this big dramatic thing? Granted the conversation ends with a joke but lines like “I wish we had more time together” and “It would never have worked out anyway” make it unambiguous that the characters are thinking about a romantic relationship in a way none of their previous dialogue has. As a book fan, I want to just be able to ignore this and as a movie fan, I don’t feel like it’s earned. Couldn’t the scene have just relied on the actors’ performances to convey their romantic regrets without those lines making them explicit? By the way, the book had Caspian offer Susan her horn back at this point and her tell him he could keep it. That is the only interaction between them C. S. Lewis records. How do you do an adaptation where they’re a couple and not include that?

Susan starts to head to the door, then turns back and… now they’re kissing?! Argh! “I’m sure when I’m older, I’ll understand,” says Lucy in disgust. “I’m older and I don’t want to understand,” says Edmund. Peter just laughs. OK, now it’s really impossible for me to ignore this pointless added romance and, even if I liked the idea, I don’t feel Caspian and Susan have earned this big romantic moment. Couldn’t she have just kissed him on the cheek? Or given him a hug? How about a nice firm handshake? Actually, after they kiss, they also hug and I’m just going to show an image of that, not of the kiss. Because that’s how I prefer to remember the scene.

Our first end credits song, The Call by Regina Spektor starts. On my first viewing, this jarred me. You may remember I didn’t mind having pop songs play over the end credits of a Narnia movie but couldn’t accept the idea of them in the movies’ bodies. However, repeated exposure, has made me appreciate this instance of that. The Call is a very pleasant song that really does fit with the atmosphere of the ending. I think when I first saw it, I was too unsettled by the kiss to notice how nicely Harry Gregson-Williams’s score was transitioning into the song. I was also jarred because the first lyric is “It started out as a feeling” and for one terrible moment, I thought there was going to be an entire credits song devoted to Susan and Caspian. Even if you find their romance cute, you can’t seriously believe it deserves that. Fortunately, the feeling the song describes turns out to be the Narnians’ wish for their kings and queens to return to them and vice versa.^[3]I think that’s what the song is about anyway. It’s a pleasant song, not a great one.

The Pevensies take one last look at Narnia and their friends before turning to go.

Lucy takes a second last look at Aslan specifically. He gives her a reassuring nod. Lucy looks like she might cry.

The Pevensies step through the door and are back at the train station in England and are wearing their school uniforms. In the book, they had to change out of them before going back. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is actually the only Narnia book in which the characters clothes magically change when they return to their own world, understandably so since those characters were adults reverting back to being children. I don’t mind the movie making that change. Showing them changing their outfits before leaving would be cumbersome and the transition is really smooth. While the movie’s railway may be underground and urban rather than outdoor and rural like the book’s, watching this scene, my feelings about it are the same as those of the characters C. S. Lewis described. It’s “a little flat and dreary for a moment after all they had been through, but also, unexpectedly, nice in its own way.”

The Pevensies are seemingly too overwhelmed to think of boarding their train. The geeky boy Susan rejected^[4]Not Caspian, the other one. does so. “Aren’t you coming, Phyllis?” he calls hopefully. Poor sap! The Pevensies scramble to get their luggage. As they all climb aboard, Edmund looks preoccupied with something. “You don’t think there’s any way we could get back?” he asks. “I’ve left my new torch in Narnia.” The others laugh. Geeky Boy is standing within earshot of them and I like to imagine he’s baffled as to why their laughing about someone leaving their new torch in an ancient hillside commune in central Italy.

“I’ve left my new torch in Narnia” is also the last line of the book, it being the tendency of the Narnia books to end with humorous lines, and I love the movie for keeping it. As the train disappears down the tunnel, we hear Aslan’s triumphant roar. If you can ignore the kiss, which, of course, you can’t, this is a beautiful ending that captures the bittersweet complexities of the equivalent scene in the book.^[5]Incidentally, for some reason, two versions of one of the end credits songs, This Is Home by Switchfoot, were made, one for the credits and one for the soundtrack. I have no idea why. This seems like … Continue reading

Concluding Thoughts

Throughout my education, I always hated having to do concluding paragraphs for my essays. Why should I waste ink summarizing what I just wrote? Did my teachers and professors really have such bad memories? But now that I have my own blog where I can write however I desire, I find myself feeling the need to write some conclusion for this series on Prince Caspian (2008) that will basically repeat several points I’ve made in previous posts. If I don’t, it’ll just feel incomplete. Oh well. Hopefully, my readers have forgotten most of my points by now.

The public seems split over whether this movie or The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005) is superior. If you’ll pardon the generalization, critics seem to prefer the former and fans of the books seem to prefer the latter. I consider them equal on the whole. Prince Caspian has more problems with characterizations and lacks the childlike sense of awe and wonder I found so breathtaking in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. But on the other hand, with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the generically Hollywood banter and quips as well as the action scenes are things I endure more than I enjoy. I don’t hate them all or anything but they’re really not the parts of the movie I consider great. With Prince Caspian, I get a kick out of the jokes and the action scenes, generically Hollywood though they may be, for their own sake. I know I wrote that the final battle drags for me but that’s the exception rather than the rule and the ending with the trees and the river god makes up for it.^[6]Upon reflection, I think the reason I prefer the scene of the Narnians infiltrating the Telmarine castle to the battle is that I enjoy seeing the details of how they do so and when things start to go … Continue reading And, of course, there are many virtues both the first two Narnia movies share like great casting and beautiful visuals. (It was surprisingly hard choosing images to include in this series since so many shots caught my eye.) Sure, the reimagined story for Prince Caspian may be a bit of a mess but it’s my mess!

While I don’t agree with those who say this movie is an improvement on the book’s story as a whole, I do agree that it improves on it in parts, which is rare for me to say about a Narnia adaptation. I actually feel that combining the movie’s story and that of the book would be ideal or would make the most compelling version of Caspian’s character anyway. If he were a High King Peter fanboy since childhood, as in the book, and then became disgusted by his actions, as in the movie, and realized in the end that the kings and queens of old aren’t perfect but they’re still heroes, meaning that his imperfect self could be a hero too, wouldn’t that be more interesting than his arc in either the book or the movie? Of course, I know many fans aren’t going to like any version with the movie’s assassination of Peter’s character. All I can say is that I respect their viewpoint though it isn’t mine.

I feel like I’m supposed to describe this Prince Caspian as “a bad adaptation but a great movie.” But I’m disinclined to do so. For one thing, the movie has artistic problems of its own, such as unclear exposition, which hewing closer to the source material could very well have fixed. For another…while I can’t, in good conscience, call this a good adaptation of the book, I really can’t call it a bad one either.^[7]It’s rather like the 2019 David Copperfield movie in that respect. There are so many fun little things from the book it includes, like the argument about girls and maps and somebody threatening to sit on Nikabrik’s head. I know it sounds ridiculous to praise those in light of the massive artistic license this adaptation takes, but what can I say? That’s how I feel. The last scene is a great little microcosm of the whole thing. It has the kiss, a huge thing that’s not true to the book and irritates me, surrounded by beautiful stuff that’s from the book like Aslan blessing the first Telmarine to trust him and Reepicheep offering to go through the door to prove Aslan’s trustworthiness. I admit I don’t feel as inclined to randomly revisit this Narnia movie as I do the first one. But after I rewatch that first one, then I always want to rewatch this one and I don’t notice any particular quality gap between them when I do. Hey, what do you know? That exactly describes my relationships to the two books that inspired them.

Finally, we’re back to Lucy. She’s still riding through the forest and now another Telmarine soldier is chasing her. Suddenly, there’s a lion running beside her too. Is it Aslan or is it some random lion who’s going to kill her? OK, it’s obviously going to be Aslan but let’s bear with the movie and pretend that, like Lucy, we’re not sure yet. (To be fair, this at the tail-end of a rather overindulgent action scene so it doesn’t feel so a random lion attacking doesn’t feel so unlikely in context.) The lion roars, frightening her horse who rears back, knocking Lucy off.

For a moment, it looks like the snarling lion is going to pounce on the fallen girl, but it leaps right over her and attacks her pursuer, knocking him off his horse. Lucy crawls to her feet in time to see the soldier running off. The lion turns to face her and, yes, it really is Aslan!^[1]As long we’re making the story grittier, I wouldn’t have minded Aslan killing the Telmarine. After all, he’s not like a tame lion. Lucy runs over and hugs him. The interaction between the flesh and blood actress and the CG lion is very impressive and I think Liam Neeson kicked his game up a notch as Aslan’s voice in this sequel. While saving Lucy from an attacker wasn’t from the book, I enjoy this reimagined reunion.

“I knew it was you!” Lucy declares ecstatically. “The whole time, I knew it! But the others didn’t believe me” to which Alsan replies, “And why would that stop you from coming to me?” Lucy’s smile fades. It’s a very nicely acted moment on Henley’s part.

Lucy: I’m sorry. I was too scared to come alone. Why wouldn’t you show yourself? Why wouldn’t you come roaring in and save us like last time?
Aslan: Things never happen the same way twice, dear one.

You may remember that Aslan said that exact same thing in his last scene with Lucy. Is the repeated line to demonstrate that that encounter wasn’t just a dream? Or did the screenwriters just forget they’d already used it? I prefer the believe the first possibility but there are enough clumsy things in these scripts that I can’t entirely discount the second one. I’ve got to say it’s a pretty ironic line to repeat if it was an accident.

Lucy: If I’d come earlier, would everyone have died? Could I have stopped that?
Aslan: We can never know what would have happened, Lucy.

Now some fans of the Narnia books, particularly Christian fans, take justifiable issue with the way that line has been adapted. In the book, Aslan says, “To know what would have happened, child? No. Nobody is ever told that.” It isn’t that Aslan himself doesn’t know; he’s just not telling. Since Aslan is meant to be God, having him say, “we can never know” is problematic from a Christian perspective. To be fair, the book doesn’t describe Aslan as omniscient outright though the longer the series goes on, the more strongly it’s implied. I believe the adaptation changed the line unthinkingly, not out of a conscious goal of keeping Aslan from being all knowing.^[2]If that really was a conscious goal on their part, I’m mystified as to how they were planning to adapt The Silver Chair. Anyway, in both the book and the movie, Lucy is informed that she should have followed after Aslan despite being the only one to see him. But in the book, the Pevensies and Trumpkin still hadn’t found their way back to Aslan’s How at that point and Aslan commanded her to lead them to him. This allowed Lucy to redeem her earlier mistake though it never actually came to her leaving the others to follow Aslan by herself since they, more or less, listened to her that time. I generally approve of the way the movie restructures the book’s plot and think it makes a lot of sense but the fact that Lucy isn’t given that opportunity to redeem herself is a negative side effect of it. Still, I love that they kept Aslan calling her out on not having enough faith too, even if it no longer goes anywhere. It makes the conflict much more interesting than Lucy being totally right and her siblings being totally wrong.^[3]In the book, Lucy is actually rather self-righteous when she complains to Aslan about the others not believing her and he reprimands her with a growl. The movie makes him much less stern.

Aslan: But what will happen is another matter entirely.
Lucy: Then you’ll help?
Aslan: Of course. As will you.
Lucy: Oh, I wish I was braver.
Aslan: If you were any braver, you’d be a lioness.

This is similar to the dialogue between Lucy and Aslan in the book but less dramatic. There she actually breaks down crying but after burying her face in Aslan’s mane, she feels stronger, and he calls her a lioness. It’s a bit sad that the movie couldn’t have had that more dramatic version but since Lucy now doesn’t need to wake up four people older than her and tell them to follow someone they can’t see into the dark, it wouldn’t have felt warranted. Like I said, negative side effect of restructuring.

“Now I think your friends have slept long enough, don’t you?” says Alsan. He raises his head and roars, and the camera pans up into the tree branches. But before we can see what happens, we cut back to the battle. (Despite what you might think from my last post, I don’t mean that as a criticism.) Trumpkin, Caspian, Susan, Edmund and Peter are killing everyone who tries to kill them though it’s ambiguous how Reepicheep is faring. We see him charge under the enemy’s feet and don’t see him again for quite a while. Still, things aren’t going that well for the good guys. Caspian tumbles on his back into the pit and Glozelle points his battle axe at him. But then in the heat of battle, he hesitates. He admired the way Caspian chose to establish his kingship by rule of law rather than by killing the current occupant of the throne in the Telmarine tradition. He doesn’t feel good about killing him now. It’s a very well-acted moment for Favino.

Glozelle starts to lower his weapon but before he can figure out what to do next, a giant root shoots out the ground above him, wraps itself around his waist, bangs his body around and drops it. In earlier versions of the script, this would have killed Glozelle but the filmmakers realized that having him die because he hesitated to kill our hero felt horrible wrong.^[4]In the book, it’s implied that Glozelle dies at some point during this scene, but it isn’t described as is Sopespian’s death.

Peter helps an amazed Caspian out of the pit, and we see that the Narnians have been joined by an army of trees who walk above the ground with their giant roots acting as tentacles. One of the trees is felled by a stone from one of the catapults but another tree crushes the catapult with its roots. Peter leads the reinforced Narnians with a cry of “For Aslan!” and the terrified Telmarines turn and run. Now I know that there are critics out there who dismiss the Narnia movies, particularly this one, for ripping off The Lord of the Rings and, in this case anyway, they have a point. The climax of The Two Towers (2002) also features an army of treelike creatures defeating the technologically advanced villains. (Both stories probably owe something to Macbeth.) It doesn’t help that these trees look relatively more like the ents than the dryads in the previous Narnia film did. Still, if this is a rip-off, it’s a well done one and since The Lord of the Rings doesn’t hold the same place in my heart that it does in the hearts of many, including many Narnia fans, I’m not too bothered. In fact, I really enjoy the visual.

Another Telmarine tells Sopespian they can still defeat the Narnians if they draw them to the river. He orders his troops to regroup at Beruna. But there’s another surprise awaiting them. The Telmarines, pursued by the Narnians, surge toward their bridge but halt in confusion when they see Lucy, a little girl, on the other side, fearlessly walking toward them. If you’re quick-eyed, you can see Edmund smile upon seeing her even as her other siblings and the Narnians look concerned. This is very much in keeping with the book in which Edmund is the first to believe Lucy’s claims of seeing Aslan and the first besides her to gain the ability to see the lion.

To the Telmarines’ further bafflement, Lucy smiles smugly at them and draws her dagger.

I love it!

Then Aslan calmly walks into view and stands by Lucy’s side. Sopespian leads a charge across the bridge. Other Telmarines lead their horses right into the water. Aslan roars, sending ripples across the river. Sopespian stops halfway across the bridge. Something is happening to the water. He turns to see what at first appears to be a huge wave heading towards him. Sopespian turns his horse around but it’s too late. The wave takes the form a giant man who glides across the land.^[5]It’s rather reminiscent of the nature spirits from The Firebird Suite in Fantasia 2000.

Some of the Telmarines on the bridge just scream and jump off it into the river. The towering water giant, whom the book describes as the river god, looks to Aslan who gives him a little nod. Then he lifts the bridge, with several Telmarines still on it, into the air. They all fall of except for Sopespian.

The giant glares at him. Sopespian flails his sword at him and yells in a pathetic attempt at defiance. Then the river god simply swallows him and the bridge-that’s what it looks like anyway-before collapsing into water.

The remaining Telmarines simply hand their weapons over to the Narnians as they haul themselves out of the river. Now in the book, the river god simply asked Aslan to remove his “chains” before the Telmarines even arrived and Aslan magically made ivy destroy the bridge. The Telmarines surrendered when they found it gone. The river god never fought anyone, let alone drowned one of the story’s main villains.^[6]I assume when a creature made of water devours you, you drown. I know I’m expected, as a fan of the book, to roll my eyes and complain about Hollywood making everything over the top and ridiculous but that’s not what I’m going to do. I love this reimagining of the scene and I feel it’s very true to the spirit of the book’s climax in that it’s awe-inspiring, funny and just a little bit creepy. I do think it would have worked if, as I’ve suggested before, the last movie had established this location. Then removing the bridge made by the bad guys and restoring the ford to the way it was in Narnia’s golden age would have been more emotionally resonant. But, hey, it’s still a cool scene even without that.

Another thing I’ve mentioned before is that in the book, there’s a Telmarine township near the bridge. Aslan summons Bacchus, the classical god of wine and revelry, Silenus, his mentor, and the maenads, his crazy followers. He leads them on a romp through the town, magically destroying it with greenery, and beyond. Throughout this scene, various unlikeable Telmarines flee in terror or suffer worse fates^[7]This is in keeping with the myths about Bacchus punishing uptight people who refuse to join in his worship though it’s much more G-rated. while various likeable, downtrodden Telmarines (a bored schoolgirl, a weary schoolteacher, a boy being beaten by a man) happily join the merrymaking. This all culminates in a surprisingly heartwarming scene which I’m not going to spoil for anyone who hasn’t read it yet. Not everyone likes this surreal scene, but I love it.^[8]Keep in mind that I probably didn’t come to the Narnia books with the same expectations as many young readers did. You see, I was a big fan of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through … Continue reading However, I’m not as upset about the movie cutting it as you’d expect though because of how much I love the reimagined river god scene. I do think cutting the unconventional conquering of Beruna and the other Telmarines towns has a negative impact on the story, but I’ll get to that in the next post.^[9]I understand that nobody knows about Bacchus these days, but they could still have done the scene with just Aslan and Lucy. If nothing else, you’d think they’d have wanted to include that … Continue reading At least the movie’s version of Prince Caspian‘s climax is better than that of the 1989 BBC miniseries adaptation which omitted not only Bacchus and Silenus but the dryads and the river god. That was easily the lamest of the BBC’s Narnia adaptations.

Back to the movie. Edmund, Caspian, Peter and Susan wade across the ford and kneel before Aslan. This could just be my interpretation, not what the filmmakers intended, but they all look a little penitent. I hope it’s what the filmmakers intended because it makes sense. “Rise, Kings and Queens of Narnia,” says Aslan. Peter, Susan and Edmund do so. “All of you,” the lion adds. Caspian looks up uncertainly. “I do not think I am ready,” he says. “It’s for that very reason, I know you are,” says Aslan. In the book, what he says is “If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been a proof that you were not.” Personally, I think that makes more sense than the movie’s version. It’s not like a lack of confidence qualifies someone to be a good king. It’s just that overconfidence disqualifies them. But maybe I’m being too nitpicky. I really am glad the movie includes that moment from the book. Ben Barnes acts it very well and since we’ve seen the cinematic Caspian be a little cocky before, the contrast now arguably makes this an even more interesting moment than it was in the source material.

Caspian rises and the others look at him encouragingly. They are interrupted by the sound of mournful bagpipe music. The mice have brought a gravely injured Reepicheep on a stretcher and-OK, whose idea was it too play bagpipes for this bit? I know that C. S. Lewis wrote that one mouse here “piped on his slender pipe a melancholy tune” but did it have to be a bagpipe? They sound so comical, and this is supposed to be a serious moment.

Speaking of music, this last section of the movie is one of those which mostly reuses musical theme’s from the last Narnia film’s soundtrack. It’s a bit creatively lazy on the composer’s part but I can’t complain too much since all the themes work so well in this context. Anyway, Lucy runs over and heals Reepicheep with her cordial. After a little suspense, he thanks her and rises. “Hail, Aslan,” he says, “it is a great honor to be in-” But when he tries to bow, he topples over and it’s revealed that he’s lost his tail in battle. In my experience, this is the scene that gets the biggest laughs from viewers. The animators do a great job with Reepicheep’s embarrassed body language.

Reepicheep: I am completely out of countenance! I must crave your indulgence for appearing in this unseemly fashion! (to Lucy) Perhaps a drop more?
Lucy: I don’t think it does that.
Reepicheep: We could have a go.
Aslan (chuckling): It becomes you well, Small One.
Reepicheep (offering up his sword): All the same, great king, I regret that I must withdraw for a tail is the honor and glory of a mouse.
Aslan (a little sternly): Perhaps you think too much of your honor, friend.^[10]In the book, this line is “I have sometimes wondered, friend, if you do not think too much about your honor,” implying Aslan has known Reepicheep for a while, so maybe it really was a … Continue reading
Reepicheep: Well, it’s not just the honor. It’s also great for balance and climbing and grabbing things…

Much of this is close to the book but I’m really disappointed how they changed that last line of Reepicheep’s. Here’s what C. S. Lewis wrote for him.

“Highest of all High Kings,” said Reepicheep, “permit me to remind you that a very small size has been bestowed on us Mice, and if we did not guard our dignity, some (who weigh worth by inches) would allow themselves very unsuitable pleasantries at our expense. That is why I have been at some pains to make it known that no one who does not wish to feel this sword as near his heart as I can reach shall talk in my presence about Traps or Toasted Cheese or Candles: no, Sir— not the tallest fool in Narnia!” Here he glared very fiercely up at Wimbleweather, but the Giant, who was always a stage behind everyone else, had not yet discovered what was being talked about down at his feet, and so missed the point.

That explanation for why Reepicheep is so touchy about his honor would have added a nice bit of depth to (what is in this movie) a comic relief character.^[11]In the next Narnia story, Reepicheep will play a more dramatic role. And it’s not like it wouldn’t have fit with the film’s characterization. Granted it would need to be shortened a little for pacing purposes, but I can hear Eddie Izzard’s Reepicheep saying that line in my head!

Reepicheep’s second-in-command, Peepiceek (editor Sim Evan-Jones), draws his sword and says, “May it please, Your High Majesty, we will not bear the shame of wearing an honor denied to our chief.” The other mice follow suit and make ready to cut their own tails off. This does not get laughs from viewers in my experience and nor should it get them since this a serious and rather heartwarming moment.

“Not for the sake of your dignity but for the love of your people,” says Aslan and Reepicheep’s tail grows back in an instant. (In the book, Aslan gave another reason for restoring the tail. I’d have loved it if that had been kept but I guess I can live without it. It serves as a nice surprise for people who read the book after watching the film, I imagine.) “Thank you! Thank you, my liege!” says Reepicheep. “I will treasure it always! From this day forward, it will serve as a great reminder of my huge humility!” Did the movie have to add that last bit? I do consider Reepicheep an amusing character^[12]If you don’t believe me, check out Lewis’s description of him realizing his tail is missing or read about his chess skills-or lack thereof-in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. but he’s far from just a caricature and even putting that aside, jokes about people being proud of being humble are so old.^[13]To be fair, they’re probably old because taking pride in one’s humility is depressingly common in real life. We didn’t need another one. However, I’m making it sound like I love this little vignette in the movie much less than I do. I’m really grateful to the adaptation for including it when it’s not necessary to the story^[14]I imagine they were motivated by knowing the large role Reepicheep would play in their series’ next installment. and while it’s not as great as in the book, it’s still pretty great.

“Now where is this ‘dear little friend’ you’ve told me so much about?” Aslan asks Lucy. Everyone looks at Trumpkin who is supervising the surrendering Telmarines nearby. He’s also keeping one very wary eye on Aslan. Seeing that he’s wanted, he nervously approaches him and kneels. Aslan gives a great roar which makes the dwarf shudder. If all this sounds scary, I’m doing a bad job with the description. It’s actually quite funny. “Do you see him now?” asks Lucy. Trumpkin manages a weak smile. When I first saw this scene, I was disappointed that Aslan didn’t pick Trumpkin up in his mouth, shake him, toss him in the air and then gently set him down as in the book. But I understand that would have been hard from a technical standpoint and I’ve come to appreciate this quieter version. Peter Dinklage’s little smile is perfect, conveying that Trumpkin now has a healthy fear of Aslan but that they’re also friends now.

Next Week: Aslan Makes a Door in the Air

Were you annoyed by the way my last post, after all the buildup to the duel between Peter and Miraz, ended just as it was beginning? Probably not because I’m not that gripping of a writer. But if you were, you know how I feel when the movie cuts from the beginning of the fight to Susan and Lucy galloping through the forest. (Well, technically, the horse is the one galloping.) Suddenly, some Telmarine soldiers are pursuing them. Once there’s a good distance between the pursuers and the pursued, Susan dismounts and tells Lucy to go on without her. The soundtrack plays a great melancholy variation of the Pevensies’ heroic theme as Lucy just before she’s ridden out of sight, stops and turns back for what might be a last look at her sister.

As soon as Lucy’s gone, the soldiers ride into view but by this time, Susan has drawn her bow. She takes them down one by one (she’s really good at nocking those arrows quickly) until a horse coming from an unexpected direction knocks her down and her weapon out of her hand. Things look bad when all of a sudden, Caspian, who apparently has been stalking Susan, rides onto the scene and slays her attacker. “Are you sure you don’t need that horn?” he asks playfully, holding out his hand. Susan beams and accepts it.

So, the whole reason the movie had Susan accompany Lucy was that they wanted a scene of Caspian rescuing her and (almost literally) sweeping her off her feet? Argh! I know some readers are probably annoyed that I keep carping about that added romance, but the film was asking for it there. And the funny thing is this adaptation tries so hard to make Susan’s character more feminist friendly. You know what many feminists would like to see? The leading lady not needing to be rescued by her male love interest!

All right. Back to Peter and Miraz. Although I wrote that I was annoyed that the movie cut away from their duel just as it was beginning, I don’t have much to say about it. That’s better than having bad things to say about it. Still, considering this is the beginning of the movie’s big climax, I wish I had really good things to say about it. Probably, the problem is that Peter has been such an unpleasant character for so much of the film prior to this so I’m not as invested in him as might be wished. I’m not horribly uninvested though. After all, the Narnians don’t deserve to lose to the Telmarines just because their champion is hard to like. And Peter has had some sympathetic aspects to his character, such as his guilt over not being there when Narnia was conquered. Still, this scene would, I believe, be more gripping if we really liked him.

As in the book, Peter and Miraz seem pretty well matched at first with Peter even being the one to draw the first blood. But before long, it starts to look bad for the Narnians. At one point, when Peter falls on his back, Miraz stamps on his hand^[1]Actually, it looks like he just steps on his shield but the way Peter roars, it makes more sense for him to have stepped on his hand so that’s what I imagine., an act more brutal than anything I can think in the book’s description of the duel.^[2]There is some violence in the battle after the duel in the book that I’d describe as brutal. The Bulgy Bear gasps and puts his paw in his mouth, which would work better if they had kept that deleted scene that I discussed in the last post but is still funny as it is.

Peter recovers quickly and Miraz is soon the one knocked off his feet. Not for long though. As Miraz rises, Peter sees Caspian and Susan returning to the How.

Miraz (panting): Does his highness need a respite?
Peter: Five minutes?
Miraz: Three!

I’m glad they kept this respite from the book when it could easily have been cut for fear of breaking up the tension. It’s a good emotional beat in both versions. The movie has given a reason for it besides Peter’s shoulder being dislocated. He now wants to ask about Lucy. The other reason is still clearly a thing though.^[3]In the book, by the way, Peter describes his shoulder as sprained, not dislocated.

Susan tells Peter that Lucy “got through. With a little help.” She indicates Caspian as she says the last bit. “Thanks,” Peter says to Caspian. “Well, you were busy,” he replies. You know, maybe I was too hard on the movie when I said it only created that scene of Caspian rescuing Susan to add pointless romance. Maybe the idea was to create a moment of Peter thanking Caspian to make up for the earlier unpleasantness between them. It doesn’t really register that way onscreen though. William Moseley’s Peter doesn’t look like he’s reevaluating Caspian. He just looks exhausted as well he might. Anyway, Peter warns Susan that she’d better get to higher ground. “I don’t expect the Telmarines will keep their word.” She gives him a farewell hug, which unfortunately hurts his shoulder, and tells him to be careful. Like I said, this would be more effective if we really liked Peter but as it is, it’s certainly not ineffective.

Edmund notices the Narnians looking worried and urges Peter to “keep smiling.” Peter turns to his army, puts on a forced smile for their benefit and salutes them with his sword. They cheer, either because they appreciate the effort or because they’re genuinely convinced by his bravado.

The movie also shows us the respite from Miraz’s perspective, something the book doesn’t. First, he berates Glozelle for letting Peter get so close. Then while Glozelle is tending to his wound, he asks his marshals how Peter looks to them. “Young,” Sopespian says tauntingly. “But His Majesty is doing extremely well,” says Glozelle, “for his age.” As he says that, he tightens Miraz’s bandage and makes him scream, no doubt on purpose.

Meanwhile, Edmund tends to Peter’s shoulder and Peter asks him, “What do you think happens back home if we die here?” That question isn’t asked in the book, Prince Caspian, but it is asked by the characters in the last and darkest Narnia story, The Last Battle. Since no movie adaptation of The Last Battle has been made, I’m glad the moment was worked into this film. In spite of the ominousness of its inclusion, the respite ends on a more humorous note than it does in the book. There Peter told Edmund to give his love to everyone at home if he died and to “say something specially nice to Trumpkin,” and Edmund was too upset to speak. In the movie, Peter starts to say, “You know, you’ve always been there and I never really-” He’s cut off by his own cries of pain as Edmund finishes adjusting his shoulder. “Just save it for later,” Edmund says.

Susan and Trumpkin exchange worried looks. Glozelle offers Miraz his helmet back and he refuses it out of bravado. (Peter lost his helmet earlier since the movie wants us to be able to see his face.) Then it’s back into the fray. At first, an increasingly desperate Miraz looks like he might overpower Peter. But if that happens, Peter is going to make him work for it. At one point, Miraz actually loses his sword and can only hold up his shield against the blows Peter rains down. Then he punches him, which I’m pretty sure is against the rules, and then he sort of tries to crush Peter with his shield and then Peter twists it away from him. I’m afraid this part of the scene comes across as rather silly.

Eventually, Miraz gets his sword back but Peter wounds him in his already sore knee and Miraz is on his knees, begging for another respite. “Now’s not the time for chivalry, Peter!” Edmund calls. This is actually inspired by an inner monologue of Edmund’s in the book when Miraz trips and Peter pauses for him to rise.

“Oh bother, bother, bother,” said Edmund to himself. “Need he be as gentlemanly as all that? I suppose he must. Comes of being a Knight and a High King. I suppose it is what Aslan would like. But that brute will be up again in a minute and then —”

I feel like the book’s version is funnier, but I can understand why it would need to be shortened. Then something happens that doesn’t in the book. As Peter turns away, Miraz, snarling, leaps to feet and tries to swipe Peter’s head off from behind. Peter turns just in time and stabs his treacherous opponent under the arm. Miraz is on his knees again and this time, it looks like Peter really will take the opportunity to finish him off. But no.

Miraz: What’s the matter, boy? Too cowardly to take a life?
Peter: It’s not mine to take.

Peter offers his sword to Caspian who steps up to the metaphorical plate. Is this normal in these war-determining duels?^[4]For what it’s worth, in C. S. Lewis’s Till We Have Faces, which depicts a similar dramatic situation, the antagonistic king says he will disarm the main character, Queen Orual, and then … Continue reading Caspian raises the sword. “Perhaps I was wrong,” says Miraz, “Maybe you do have the makings of a Telmarine king after all.”

Caspian roars and brings down the sword but instead of stabbing Miraz, he just stabs a conveniently placed patch of grass.

“Not one like you,” he says, “Keep your life but I am giving the Narnians back their kingdom.” Caspian turns and heads back to the How. The Narnians cheer him. Sopespian, who doesn’t want the Narnians to take over but very much wants Miraz dead, is disappointed. Glozelle, on the other hand, looks impressed.

Susan also looks impressed, and can I carp about the romance thing one more time? Part of what annoys me about it is that in the book, Susan’s storyline was all about her relationships with Aslan and Lucy. Those are still definitely there in the movie but most of the emphasis falls on her relationship with Caspian. Even the scene of her protecting Lucy as they go to find Aslan ultimately ended up being about Caspian saving her.

Still, I will say this for the movie. While it does add romance to the book’s story, at least it doesn’t add a love triangle. The love triangle is one of my least favorite dramatic devices. Not that it can’t be done well. One of my favorite plays, Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac, is all about a love triangle. But too often they just feel like easy ways to get the story’s fandom warring against itself. Even in my beloved Les Misérables, the love triangle is the most dramatically flawed and potentially annoying part.^[5]I am referring to the musical version, not the literary one in which Eponine is a villain albeit an interesting one and very few readers root for her to end up with Marius.

Let’s talk about the whole Caspian-sparing-Miraz thing. I’m glad that the adaptation didn’t make the duel between Caspian and Miraz even though that would be the conventional thing to do. I believe it’s thematically important that it be a showdown between Peter, the champion of Old Narnia, and Miraz, the Telmarine who’s been most dismissive of Old Narnia. At the same time…I can understand feeling that it should have been between Caspian and Miraz. Despite having his name in the title, Caspian has practically nothing to do in the last third of the book. The movie is arguably trying to fix a real dramatic problem with the source material. But the compromise they found strikes me as awkward with Peter doing all the work and then suddenly saying Caspian should kill Miraz. And then there’s what come next.

In the book, nobody has a problem with Caspian wanting to avenge his murdered father. Peter just objects because he’s been wounded by the werewolf and his uncle wouldn’t take a challenge from him seriously anyway. In two other Narnia books, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and The Silver Chair, wanting to avenge someone’s death is portrayed sympathetically. C. S. Lewis was coming from a more medieval morality whereas the movie takes a more modern view. I don’t necessarily think that that medieval view was right and the modern one wrong. (Not on this subject anyway.) But I do feel that the whole if-you-kill-him-you’ll-be-just-like-him thing comes across as cliche, especially that bit where Caspian looks like he’s going to kill Miraz but then stabs something else. I admit I’m not enough of a cinephile to give examples of this from other films, but it really smells rote and boring to me, making this sadly the first example in a Narnia movie of an arc that I simply do not like as opposed to one that I just think could have been executed better. I really wish the movie could have focused instead on Caspian’s dissatisfaction with the world into which he was born and his longing for the Narnia of his bedtime stories. That was arguably the heart of the book. And, yeah, I know the book isn’t the most beloved entry in The Chronicles of Narnia but that was in spite of that theme, not because of it.

Back to the movie. Sopespian helps the humiliated Miraz to his feet. “I’ll deal with you when this is over,” Miraz snarls, desperately trying to regain his dignity. “It is over,” says Sopespian with a grin and stabs Miraz to death with a Narnian arrow, Susan’s arrow that Miraz showed him earlier, I believe. It’s a great creepy moment.

Then Sopespian points at Aslan’s How and yells “Treachery! They shot him! They murdered our king!” Peter, seeing that the Telmarines are now about to attack commands the Narnians to be ready.

Now I enjoy the book’s surprise of Glozelle and Sopespian being the ones to kill Miraz when convention would dictate that Peter or Caspian would do so-or maybe Aslan given the precedent set by The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. And I’m glad the movie kept it, but it makes less sense because of that whole Caspian sparing Miraz thing and their (understandable) desire to make Miraz’s death a bigger moment. Here’s the relevant part of the source material. Miraz has tripped and Peter is waiting for him to get up.

The Lords Glozelle and Sopespian had their own plans ready. As soon as they saw their King down, they leaped into the lists crying, “Treachery! Treachery! The Narnian traitor has stabbed him in the back while he lay helpless. To arms! To arms, Telmar!”
Peter hardly understood what was happening. He saw two big men running towards him with drawn swords. Then the third Telmarine had leaped over the ropes on his; left. “To arms, Narnia! Treachery!” Peter shouted. If all three had set upon him at once he would never have spoken again. But Glozelle stopped to stab his own King dead where he lay: “That’s for your insult, this morning,” he whispered as the blade went home.^[6]You’ll notice that it’s Glozelle who kills Miraz here, not Sopespian. I don’t blame the screenwriters for mixing them up as the book gives them no individual personalities.

Of course, doing the scene that way would require making it clear that the Telmarine army was chomping at the bit, eager for any excuse to start slaying Narnians.^[7]In the book, they heckle Peter during the duel. Maybe the movie should have kept that. Even as it is, it feels a bit odd that the ones near the front with good views wouldn’t be able to tell that Sopespian was the one to kill Miraz. And even they probably wouldn’t be able to see that the arrow that killed Miraz was a Narnian one so what was the point of that?

Anyway, Caspian calls out a warning to Peter who turns around to see the unnamed Telmarine marshal coming for him with a drawn sword.^[8]Well, he’s unnamed in the dialogue. According to the credits and presumably the official screenplay, which is sadly unavailable to read online, he’s Lord Gregoire but in these recaps, I … Continue reading They fight and Peter wins. The movie pauses to show his helmet lying on the ground. From what I understand, this was to assure viewers that it was the helmet they just saw Peter knock off, not his head as it was in the book,^[9]In which Peter also cuts off the man’s legs. I told you there was some brutal violence after the duel in the literary version. preserving the PG rating. I actually think focusing on the empty helmet makes the moment creepier. Without that little pause, I would have forgotten about the guy, being so caught up in the scene. With it, I think about what a gruesome fate the poor man just suffered. Shows how much the MPAA and I agree.

In the book, it’s actually Sopespian whom Peter beheads at that point but since he’s now made himself the main villain, the movie wants to keep alive a tad longer. Not that I’m complaining. Damian Alcazar earns it. Glozelle rallies the Telmarine cavalry^[10]I appreciate that the movie keeps the line, “To arms, Telmar!” and the catapults start heaving boulders at the How. Caspian and Glenstorm rush inside it to rally the Narnians within while Susan commands the archers. I’ll be honest. I’m really not a fan of the battle scene that ensues. Of course, I’m not interested in epic battle scenes in general and you’ll remember I resented the one at the end of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005) for taking time away from what I consider some of the book’s most memorable material. But I still felt that scene worked on its own terms. This battle just drags on and on and on and I keep wondering what Lucy is doing. The pacing on this part is so off! First, they cut to Lucy when I was all set to focus on Peter and now, they stay with him and his army when I want to go back to her. I’ll try to get through describing the scene as quickly as possible without leaving out any highlights.

Caspian leads the Narnians he’s rallied racing underground, chopping down pillars as they go. This causes the ground beneath the charging Telmarines’ horses to collapse. Only then does Susan order the archers to fire and Peter and Edmund lead their foot soldiers in a charge.

Another part of the ground turns out to be a trapdoor that the Narnians lower, allowing Caspian and his troops to back above ground and surround the enemy.

We get to see Wimbleweather hurl an enemy soldier across the field. Since I mentioned that his already minor role in the book is reduced by the movie, I feel like I should also mention it when it gives him something to do.

We also see Trufflehunter in battle. (Well, him or another badger.) As one Telmarine (animation supervisor Adam Valdez) crawls out of the pit the Narnians created, he sees Reepicheep standing above him with a sword. “You’re a… mouse?” he says, unable to believe his fate. “You people have no imagination!” Reepicheep cries in exasperation before (it’s implied) finishing him off. I love that line! It’s not something C. S. Lewis’s Reepicheep would have said but it makes me laugh.

On the other side of the pit, the massive Telmarine army keeps advancing. Gryphons fly Narnian archers over them, but they’re taken down by the Telmarines’ giant war machines. Peter orders the Narnians to retreat into the How. Susan gets what is easily the movie’s cheesiest line. As the walls of Aslan’s How are bombarded by the catapults, she yells, “brace yourselves!” in slow motion to the archers. When are filmmakers going to learn that yelling things in slow motion always sounds dumb? I feel sorry for poor Anna Popplewell whose performance did not deserve that. Anyway, the onslaught accomplishes its purpose of blocking the entrance to the How for the Narnians. “Crush them all!” Sopespian says gleefully. Peter, Caspian, Susan, Edmund and their followers have no choice but to meet the enemy head-on.

Maybe the reason I’m not as much on the edge of my seat as I should be for this scene is that I’ve read the book, so I already know that nobody about whom I really care is going to die. I suppose that’s inevitable. Then again, in the aforementioned adaptation of Les Misérables, I’m still invested in the characters knowing which ones are going to die.^[11]Spoiler: Most of them. Honestly, even if I weren’t familiar with the original book, I don’t think I’d be worried about my favorite characters dying because I’d still be able to tell that this isn’t that kind of movie. Sure, they’re trying to give this one a darker, more dangerous feel than its predecessor. But apart from Nikabrik, who deserved his death, the closest they’ve come to killing off a good guy we know well was Glenstorm’s son and we arguably don’t even know Glenstorm that well. (The dialogue didn’t even specify their relationship. I just picked up on it because I know the book.) Since I’m not really in suspense here, I wish the movie would stop pretending this was suspenseful and move on to stuff that really interests me.

Next Week: Stuff That Really Interests Me!

The morning after the White Witch fiasco-or maybe later that day-Caspian sits atop the entrance to Aslan’s How, staring at the misty landscape below. Honestly, I wish this were a real place so that I could sit there and do the same. But enough of me praising the art direction.

Dr. Cornelius comes out of the How and wordlessly sits next to him.

Caspian: Why did you never tell me about my father?
Cornelius: My mother was a black dwarf from the northern mountains. I risked my life all these years that someday you might be a better king than those before you.
Caspian: Then I have failed you.
Cornelius: Everything I told you, everything I didn’t, it was only because I believe in you. You have the chance to become the most noble contradiction in history. The Telmarine who saved Narnia.

I don’t really see the connection between Caspian’s initial question and the revelation about Dr. Cornelius’s heritage. And the bit about “everything I told you, everything I didn’t” is a bit weak too. How would telling Caspian the truth about his father’s death be a bad influence on him? But other than that, this is a lovely scene and not just because of the acting though Ben Barnes and Vincent Grass give beautiful performances. The line about “the most noble contradiction in history” is one of the best quotes from a Narnia movie that isn’t taken from the books.

Within the How, Peter is also staring wistfully at something. Rather than staring down at something though, he’s staring up at the image of Aslan in the Stone Table room. Lucy, like Dr. Cornelius, wordlessly approaches and sits by him. There’s some nice acting from William Moseley as he thinks about what he’s going to say to her before he says it. “You’re lucky, you know,” is what he says, “To have seen him. I wish he’d just given me some sort of proof.” Peter’s voice sounds less bitter towards Aslan now and more desperate. There still might be a little bit of bitterness but that serves to make the scene more interesting. “Maybe we’re the ones who need to prove ourselves to him,” Lucy suggests, massaging Peter’s arm to comfort him.

Now there are some people out there, mainly fans of the Narnia books,^[1]Not every fan of the books of course. who condemn this movie as being nothing but empty action scenes. I was prepared to defend it against those charges, using these two quiet dialogue scenes. However, I realized with a start that these scenes are both very short whereas the movie’s action scenes are quite lengthy. Still, I’m going to stick to my defense since these two scenes are still very emotional and even a little thoughtful. Also, while we’ll be getting a major action scene soon, there will be a handful of dialogue/action scenes leading up to it. And, hey, action scenes aren’t enemies to character development and good storytelling. Both the attack on the castle and the White Witch scene were action scenes which were also very concerned with furthering character arcs. Mind you, I didn’t love everything about how they furthered character arcs since I think the arc the movie gives Peter needed some ironing and the arc it gives Caspian is dull but it’s slander to say the movie isn’t interested in story and character. I’m going to quote from An Experiment in Criticism, a nonfiction work of C. S. Lewis. In it, he partly defends the “unliterary,” by which he means those who just read books for exciting plots and wish fulfillment, not to appreciate the style.

Let us be quite clear that the unliterary are unliterary not because they enjoy stories in these ways, but because they enjoy them in no other. Not what they have but what they lack cuts them off from the fulness of literary experience. These things ought they to have done and not left others undone. For all these enjoyments are shared by good readers reading good books. We hold our breath with anxiety while the Cyclops gropes over the ram that bears Odysseus, while we wonder how Phèdre (and Hippolyte) will react to the unexpected return of Thésée, or how the disgrace of the Bennet family will affect Darcy’s love for Elizabeth. Our inquisitiveness is strongly excited by the first part of The Confessions of a Justified Sinner or the change in General Tilney’s behaviour. We long to discover Pip’s unknown benefactor in Great Expectations. In Spenser’s House of Busirane every stanza whets our curiosity. As for the vicarious enjoyment of imagined happiness, the mere existence of the Pastoral gives it a respectable place in literature. And elsewhere too, though we do not demand a happy ending to every story, yet when such an ending occurs and is fitting and well executed, we certainly enjoy the happiness of the characters. We are even prepared to enjoy vicariously the fulfilment of utterly impossible wishes, as in the statue scene from the Winter’s Tale; for what wish is so impossible as the wish that the dead to whom we have been cruel and unjust should live again and forgive us and ‘all be as before’? Those who seek only vicarious happiness in their reading are unliterary; but those who pretend that it can never be an ingredient in good reading are wrong.

C. S. Lewis also criticized movie adaptations of literature for adding action scenes, so he’d doubtless dislike the 2008 Prince Caspian. But I think the argument he makes could very well be used in the film’s defense. Action scenes shouldn’t be the raison d’etre of a movie-or not of a Narnia movie anyway. But they can still be an ingredient in it.

Speaking of movies, let’s get back to the plot. Edmund enters and tells Peter he’d better come quickly. The Pevensies rush out of one of the How’s many entrances to stand beside Caspian. The Telmarine army, led by Miraz, emerge from the trees. And they’ve got catapults.

In better news, I was wrong when I claimed that “Beards and bedsteads” was the only one of Trumpkin’s characteristic exclamations from the book to make into the movie. We cut to another of the Narnians and hear him say, “Cakes and Kettledrums!^[2]Actually, in the book, it was “Cobbles and kettledrums” but never mind. That’s your next big plan?! Sending a little girl off into the darkest parts of the forest alone?!” “It’s our only chance,” insists Peter. “And she won’t be alone,” adds Susan. The little girl is obviously Lucy but why is their only chance sending her into the darkest parts of the forest? The scene doesn’t really explain. You sort of have to watch the movie twice to figure it out. As I wrote before, this would make so much more sense if Aslan had told Lucy in her dream to come meet him somewhere. “Haven’t enough of us died already?” Trumpkin asks with an uncharacteristic stutter in his voice, looking like he might very well break down crying.

“Nikabrik was my friend too,” says Trufflehunter, “but he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn’t. And neither have I.” Reepicheep draws his sword in a salute. “For Aslan,” he says solemnly. “For Aslan,” intones a nearby talking bear (voiced by David Walliams.) In the book, the Bulgy Bear is a major source of comic relief. I imagine the filmmakers trimmed his part because they wanted this to be a serious action movie with no comedic talking bears in it. Humph, I say! But that makes it rather odd that they’d give the character this one line in a big dramatic scene.^[3]It may strike some as even odder that they’d bother to hire Walliams, a professional actor, rather than give one of the crew a vocal cameo as they did for, say, Pattertwig, another minor … Continue reading

Back to the scene. “Then I’m going with you,” says Trumpkin to Lucy. “No, we need you here,” she replies, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We have to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back,” says Peter. “If I may…,” says Caspian. Instead of getting told off by Peter, Caspian receives everybody’s attention. “Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer but as king, he is still subject to the traditions and expectations of his people. There is one in particular that may buy as some time.”

Later, Miraz and Glozelle watch from afar as Edmund and two Narnians approach with green branches, the equivalent of olive branches or white flags in this culture. “Perhaps they have come to surrender,” Glozelle suggests. “No. They are much too noble for that,” says Miraz. The two Narnians are the same ones that accompany Edmund in the book, Glozelle and Wimbleweather the giant (Jan Filipensky.) Wimbleweather is another major source of comic relief in the book who is sadly reduced to a cameo here. Perhaps this is partly because giants are expensive. If so, I wonder how the filmmakers intended to adapt The Silver Chair, a Narnia book in which giants play a big role. Still, this cameo is better than nothing.

We cut to Edmund reading a challenge to Miraz and other Telmarine bigshots. The language of the challenge, I’m pleased to relate, is close to the book though it’s much shorter and easier for people not versed in this kind of culture to understand. “I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood do hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender.”

“Tell me, Prince Edmund-” begins Miraz, sounding unimpressed, before Edmund interrupts to clarify that he’s actually King Edmund. “Just king though. Peter’s the high king. I know, it’s confusing.” Some fans might reasonably object that that moment of humor has undertones of criticizing the source material. For what it is though, it can be enjoyed. The movie’s comedic timing is very good.

Miraz: Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?
Edmund: Haven’t you already underestimated our numbers? I mean, only a week ago Narnians were extinct.
Miraz (grimly): And so you will be again.
Edmund: Then you should have little to fear.

Miraz laughs at this, not a stereotypically evil sounding laugh, a genuinely amused one. “This is not a question of bravery,” he says. “So you’re bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?” says Edmund. Miraz’s smile freezes. He leans forward and says in a much less relaxed tone of voice, “I didn’t say I refused.” Sergio Castellitto is so great in this role!

“You shall have our support, Your Majesty, whatever your decision,” one of the Telmarine lords (David Bowles) says. “Sire,” says Lord Sopespian smoothly, “our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid what might otherwise be-” Miraz jumps to his feet, drawing his sword. “I am not avoiding anything!” he snarls. It’s as fun to see him nettled as it was not fun to see Caspian and Peter nettled earlier. “I am merely pointing out that my lord is well within his rights to refuse,” says Sopespian innocently. “His Majesty would never refuse,” puts in Glozelle. “He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their new king.” This is a minor change from the book’s story that I think arguably improves upon it. As C. S. Lewis wrote the scene, Glozelle and Sopespian manipulate Miraz into accepting Peter’s challenge for purposes of their own in the exact same way. Having one of them act like of course he wouldn’t accept and the other act like of course he wouldn’t decline makes the scene interesting.

Miraz’s eyes dart around as he realizes he’s trapped but he manages to keep from looking too helpless. “You,” he says, pointing his sword at Edmund^[4]You’ll notice it trembles a bit., “you should hope your brother’s sword is sharper than his pen.” Fortunately, Edmund has a great poker face.

Now I’m going to write about a deleted scene in some detail^[5]I’m actually not sure whether it would have come here or after the next scene. because in my opinion, it most definitely should not have been deleted! And I’m not just saying that because much of it is from the book. OK, I’m mostly saying it because of that. But even with the story the filmmakers were telling, the scene would have improved the storytelling. It would have begun with Caspian respectfully arguing that he, not Peter, should be the one to fight Miraz and Peter disagreeing.

Peter (kindly): Look, if there’s ever going to be peace with the Telmarines, you have to be the one who brings it.
Caspian: How can I if you won’t let me?
Peter: Not like this. If I don’t make it, well, Narnia’s future’s in your hands.
Caspian: And what about your own future?
Peter: I was thinking about a career in medicine.

As it is, the idea that Caspian’s goal should be uniting the Telmarines and the Old Narnians comes rather out of nowhere at the climax of the story. This dialogue would have served to set it up.^[6]OK, it would be setting it up right before the climax but that’s still better than not setting it up at all. This also would have made Peter and Caspian’s relationship less unpleasant. Peter would have given Caspian good advice and acknowledged him as his successor. Caspian would have expressed concern for Peter’s safety. These strike me as important beats for their character arcs without which the movie suffers dramatically. The scene would have gone on to show Peter picking his marshals of the list for the duel. The Bulgy Bear would have invoked his species’ ancient right to provide one of them and Trumpkin objecting that he’d end up sucking his paws and embarrassing the Narnians. Reepicheep would have also volunteered, and Peter would have come up with a diplomatic reason for declining the offer rather than saying, “The enemy would have laugh at you because you’re so small.” These humorous moments from the book weren’t important character beats but come on! It’s classic stuff! Earlier in this post, I defended the movie against charges it favored action above all else, using this talky section as a counterargument. But the fact that the scene I just described was deleted while the climactic battle, to which we’ll get in the next post, drags on and on weakens my case.

Back at the How, Caspian helps Susan and Lucy mount his horse. “Destrier has always served me well,” he says, “You are in good hands.” “Or hooves,” jokes Lucy. (Not one of the movie’s better jokes but it feels like something someone would say in real life.) “Good luck,” says Caspian, trying to meet Susan’s eye. She says, “Thanks,” but coldly turns her face away. Caspian apologetically hands her the enchanted horn, saying maybe it’s time she had it back. Now Susan manages a small smile. “Why don’t you hold on to it?” she says. “You might need to call me again.” She gallops off. “You might need to call me again?!” Lucy repeats incredulously. “Oh, shut up!” says Susan. I’m with Lucy here. Was that a cell phone joke? That makes no sense! Neither Susan nor Caspian comes from a world with cell phones. What were the writers thinking?!

We cut to Peter emerging from Aslan’s How for the duel. The Narnians cheer for him while the Telmarines cheer for Miraz. In a nice touch, Peter wears armor nearly identical to what he wore in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005.) This is appropriate since he’s one of Old Narnia’s greatest heroes, if not the greatest, come from the ancient past to do battle for it but the gambeson(?)^[7]I googled “cloth part of armor” and that’s the word that came up though the images I found weren’t a perfect fit. is a darker shade of red than the one in the first movie, indicating that this is a sadder, wiser Peter.

The Narnian marshals of the list are Edmund, Glenstorm and the Bulgy Bear. The Telmarine marshals are Glozelle, Sopespian and that guy who told Miraz he would have their full support whatever they decided.

“It should appear to be going badly,” Miraz says in an undertone to Glozelle who holds a crossbow. “Understood, Your Majesty,” says Glozelle. Does this mean that Glozelle is supposed to shoot Peter if it looks like he’s winning? I can’t think what else the implication could be, but I don’t quite get the line. Shouldn’t it be “if it should appear to be going badly?” Adding that one word to the beginning of the sentence would have made it so much clearer.

Anyway, unlike in the book, Miraz has no misimpression that Sopespian didn’t really want him to accept this challenge. As he takes his helmet from him, he says, “I hope you won’t be too disappointed when I survive.”^[8]Speaking of weapons, here’s something readers will hopefully find funny. The beloved modern fantasy series, His Dark Materials, was intended by its author, Philip Pullman, to be sort of an … Continue reading Peter and Miraz circle each other as both armies watch with bated breath. Then the kings engage in a little trash talk.

Miraz: There is still time to surrender.
Peter: Feel free.
Miraz: How many more must die for the throne?
Peter: Just one.

And they fight.

Next Week: Who Will Win?

Lucy sits next to the Stone Table, fiddling with her bottle of cordial. She hears something from outside and runs out of the How. This may not be a widely shared taste, but I love looking at the misty mornings in this movie. But this isn’t time to take in the movie’s beauty as the weary remnants of the Narnian’s army trudge back to their fortress.

Peter and Caspian aren’t speaking to each other. I wish they could keep that up for the whole scene.

Lucy: What happened?
Peter (re: Caspian): Ask him.
Susan: Peter!
Caspian: Me? You could have called it off; There was still time!
Peter: There wasn’t, thanks to you! If you’d kept to the plan, those soldiers might be alive right now.
Caspian: And if you’d just stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be!
Peter: You called us! Remember?
Caspian: My first mistake.
Peter: No! Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people.
Caspian: Hey! I am not the one who abandoned Narnia!
Peter: You invaded Narnia. You have no more right to be here than Miraz does! You, him, your father…Narnia’s better off without the lot of you!

Yikes! I’ve been offering defenses of the way this movie adapts the character of Peter, but this nasty conversation is extremely hard for a book fan to take. It’s such a 180 from Caspian and Peter’s relationship in the text. The way each character goes for the other weakest spot (Caspian by accusing Peter of abandoning Narnia and Peter by badmouthing Caspian’s dead father) is especially brutal. Also, from a purely neutral perspective, putting aside the book, the way Caspian screams at Peter and draws his sword after this is silly. I get that they’re outraged but aren’t they also supposed to be exhausted after the battle?

Anyway, Edmund interrupts the fight by yelling, “Stop it!” Glenstorm comes forward with a wounded and evidently unconscious Trumpkin. Lucy runs over and applies her healing cordial to him. (This was likely inspired by a less dramatic scene from the book where she uses the cordial to heal a war wound of Trumpkin’s. This follows Edmund beating him at fencing and Susan beating him at archery and is another thing that convinces him to take the Pevensies seriously.) Caspian sheathes his sword and marches into the How. Nikabrik follows with an interesting expression on his face.

While all this is happening, Glenstorm’s wife meets his eyes, and she breaks down crying as she realizes that one of their children is lost. It’s a well-acted moment from Lejla Abassova though its impact is somewhat lessened by the fact that we haven’t really established that’s she Glenstorm’s wife.^[1]There was going to be a scene of her wordlessly bidding her menfolk farewell before they left for battle which would have helped. But the director was probably right to cut it for pacing reasons.

Our focus returns to Trumpkin as Lucy’s cordial revives him. “What are you all standing around for?” he grumbles. “Telmarines ‘ll be here soon enough.” Lucy smiles affectionately and rises to go. Before she does so, Trumpkin says, “Thank you, my dear little friend.” It’s a nice moment.

Back at the castle, we see Miraz being crowned. Since it’s now apparent that Caspian is working with the enemy, the Telmarines who might otherwise have supported him feel they have no choice but to accept his uncle as king.^[2]Making Peter’s plan even more disastrous in retrospect. No one at court besides Miraz looks happy^[3]And, technically, even he hides his emotions well., especially not Glozelle and Sopespian. But they all bow to him anyway. We then see Miraz and Prunaprismia looking down from a balcony as their subjects below cheer “Long live the King!” I wish the movie should have shown Prunaprismia’s face to make it clear she’s no longer comfortable with her evil husband and also done something to clarify that the peasants are cheering because that’s the safe thing to do, not because they actually like Miraz. That would have been better storytelling.

Intercut with all this, we see the Telmarines completing the bridge at Beruna and an intimidating army marching across it. We also hear Telmarine lords shouting, “Beruna pledges it troops! Galma pledges its troops! Tashbaan pledges its troops! Ettinsmoor pledges its troops!” All of those are locations from the Narnia books and I appreciate the attempt to please fans. However, their choices also indicate the screenwriters weren’t particular fans themselves, not ones with great memories anyway. In the books, Galma is an island that isn’t part of Narnia. Tashbaan is the capital of an enemy country and Ettinsmoor is a wasteland populated by barbaric giants. You know, giants, the kind of fantasy creatures the Telmarines would be against. Oh well, like I said, nice try.^[4]It’s not impossible that Galma and Tashbaan could be allied with the Telmarines but there’s nothing about Miraz’s forces to indicate they’re made up of armies from different … Continue reading

Back at the How, Caspian stands by himself, staring bitterly at the wall carvings of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. Well, not quite by himself.

Nikabrik: Are you so glad of that magic horn now, boy? The Kings and Queens have failed us. Your army’s half dead. Those that aren’t will be soon enough.
Caspian: What do you want? Congratulations?
Nikabrik: You want your uncle’s blood? So do we. You want his throne? We can get it for you.

With a rather unsettling grin, Nikabrik leads Caspian into the Stone Table room. Caspian follows after one more glance at the image of the Pevensies on the wall. “You’ve tried one ancient power,” says Nikabrik, “It failed. But there is another power greater still, one that kept even Aslan at bay for near a hundred years.” In the book, Caspian immediately guesses from Nikabrik’s words what ancient power he means and that was before he said anything about “a hundred years.” The movie makes him slower so that…well, we’ll see. Something stirs and growls in the shadows of the seemingly empty room. Caspian draws his sword. “Who’s there?” he asks. A cloaked figure (played by Shane Rangi and, according to the Internet Movie Database, voiced by Tim Hands)^[5]Tim Hands is a sound/dialogue editor but, weirdly, IMDB does not credit him with performing that role on this movie.steps out from behind a pillar. From under his hood, we can see a hairy snout, full of teeth. “I am hunger,” he says, “I am thirst. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies!” With that, he pulls back his hood, revealing himself to be a snarling werewolf. By this time, another figure has emerged, this one a Hag (Klara Issova.) “What you hate so will we,” she tells Caspian, “No one hates better than us.” Both actors are fantastically creepy in their roles and their dialogue is quite close to the book. The Hag’s line about hatred has a thematic significance here that it doesn’t in the book since Caspian’s hatred of Miraz is presented as his big flaw.^[6]He also wanted to avenge his father’s murder in the book but that wasn’t presented as a bad thing. More on this in a later post. Actually, on reflection, the line was thematically significant in the book too. It was just about Nikabrik’s hatred of Telmarines, not Caspian’s. As wonderfully creepy as the movie makes this scene, I feel like it can’t be as creepy as in the book since there we didn’t actually see the Hag and the Werewolf while they were making these speeches. The scene was portrayed from the points of view of Peter, Edmund and Trumpkin who were listening from behind a door. It’s just not the same with the characters clearly visible in a shadowy but basically well-lit room. This was inevitable though with the change of medium.

“And you can guarantee Miraz’s death?” asks Caspian. “And more,” says the Hag. Caspian still looks suspicious, rightly so, but he sheathes his sword. “Let the circle be drawn,” says the Hag. She and the werewolf scratch a circle on the floor around Caspian as she chants. Caspian, weirded out, looks to Nikabrik for clarification. Why doesn’t he just ask what they’re doing? Because the movie, unlike the book, doesn’t want Caspian to stop this little ritual. But it knows that if Caspian knew its purpose, there’s no way he could do so without losing the viewers’ respect. (Needless to say, in the book, Nikabrik and his compatriots explain their whole plan and Caspian immediately puts a stop to it. The implied reason why he listens to the Hag and the werewolf at all after their creepy introductions is respect for Nikabrik.) Anyway, Nikabrik just grins evilly at the bewildered Caspian. Warwick Davis is great at evil grins. Because the vast majority of the goods guys in the movie have been grumpy and sarcastic, Nikabrik hasn’t really stood out as sinister before this as he had in the book. You could say that’s a bad thing and that this scene hasn’t been set up as well. But you could also say that’s an improvement on the book as Nikabrik’s villainy is a bigger plot twist.

As the Hag’s chant reaches its climax, she pulls out the end of the White Witch’s wand-don’t ask me where she got it-and stabs it into the floor. Ice magically emanates from the wand. It crawls up the wall blocking the giant image of Aslan from view in a nice bit of visual symbolism. Within the ice, a ghostly figure appears.

It’s the White Witch (Tilda Swinton)’s ghost! I’ve got to say I actually like the way she looks here better than in the last movie. Her white skin color is much more “like snow or paper or icing-sugar.”

“Wait! This isn’t what I wanted!” Caspian protests. He starts to back away in horror, but the werewolf grabs hold of him. More specifically, he grabs hold of his wrist and holds it out while the Hag draws a knife. The Witch speaks. (I don’t know much of this is due to Swinton and how much due to the sound mixing but her voice sounds nicely ethereal otherworldly.) One drop of Adam’s blood and you free me,” she says. This is actually a good addition to the book’s story, explaining why none of the White Witch’s followers have tried calling up her spirit before. OK, it’s not an amazing explanation since they could have captured any random human and don’t need specifically need Caspian’s blood, but I still like it. It’s a bit weird that the line concludes with her saying, “Then I am yours, my king.” It almost sounds like she’s flirting with him. Was that the idea? Anyway, despite Caspian’s protests, the Hag cuts his hand, drawing blood.^[7]Don’t ask me why the movie couldn’t have a PG rating if the battle scenes showed blood but this is OK. The MPAA is weird. The Witch kisses her spectral fingertips and then extends her hand-physically breaking through the ice! It’s very creepy.

As she does so, the fight goes out Caspian. He seems to be falling under her (literal) spell. Just when it looks like he’s going to let her use his blood, we hear Peter yell “Stop!” He rushes into the room along with Edmund and Trumpkin. (Don’t ask how they knew what was happening. I guess, as in the book, they were just eavesdropping.) The werewolf throws off its cloak and leaps upon them. Edmund fights the wolf, Peter fights the Hag and Trumpkin fights Nikabrik. It looks as if Nikabrik is going to overpower the other dwarf but then Lucy appears and grabs him from behind. Nikabrik twists her arm and shoves her hard against the floor. On the plus side, Peter also throws the Hag hard against the wall and it’s implied that Edmund slays the werewolf. Nikabrik is about to kill Lucy when Trumpkin stabs him from behind. While the movie’s plot structure has kept it from developing their relationship, we know Trumpkin and Nikabrik have shared a home for some time and it’s sad to see one forced to kill the other. (In the book, the light is knocked out during this fight and it’s left ambiguous which of the good guys killed Nikabrik.)

Seeing all her allies falling, the Witch becomes desperate. “Come on!” she hisses, holding out her hand. Caspian, hypnotized, is about to obey but Peter shoves him aside, holding out his sword. “Get away from him!” he cries. The Witch quickly withdraws her hand but just as quickly holds it out again. “Peter dear!” she says, smiling. “I’ve missed you!”

OK, what?!

Now it definitely sounds like she’s flirting. And why should Peter believe she’s missed him? Pretty much their only interactions were trying to kill each other. Yet it seems like he’s falling for her words. The idea seems to be that standing in the circle makes you susceptible to the Witch. “Come,” she coaxes, “Just one drop. You know you can’t do this alone.” Peter starts to lower his sword. But before he can do anything, a sword pierces through the center of the wall of ice.

It shatters, revealing the sword’s wielder, Edmund, behind it. “I know,” he tells Peter, “You had it sorted.” Caspian and Peter stare at the image of Aslan, appalled at what they almost did. Then they turn to see Susan. She glares at Caspian in disgust, then turns and storms off, leaving him looking even guiltier. Yes, apparently, the filmmakers felt that almost bringing back the White Witch wasn’t a big enough reason for Caspian to feel terrible. He also needs to be upset because Susan doesn’t like him anymore. Spare me.

This is easily the craziest scene in the movie. Maybe in any of the Narnia movies. I don’t necessarily hate the addition of having Nikabrik’s crew partially complete their evil ritual and the heroes stopping it just in time. It’s a stereotypically Hollywood-esque change to make to the story but, hey, sometimes I enjoy the stereotypically Hollywood-esque. And there are some aspects of the scene I really admire but there are also plenty I find ridiculous. As something of a writer myself, I can see what the screenwriters’ goal was. Since Caspian and Peter entirely blamed each other for the failure of the last battle, they wanted a situation where they would be equally at fault and have no choice but to acknowledge their own failings, even to bond over their mutual guilt.^[8]Of course, the screenwriters wouldn’t have needed that if they’d stuck closer to the book. The problem is that there’s no way either Peter or Caspian would be idiotic enough to even consider trusting the White Witch. To get around that, the movie implied that she had them under a spell. But in that case, assuming they really had no free will, why should they feel guilty?^[9]Well, I guess Caspian should for not insisting on the Hag and the werewolf explaining themselves. Sometimes understanding the thought process behind ridiculous, contrived scenes like this inclines me to forgive them. At other times, it just makes me despise them more. It depends on how much I enjoy the movies (or books or plays) on the whole. I enjoy this one, so I’ll forgive it though I understand why other viewers might not do so.

Next Week: That Telmarine Army Is Still Coming. What Will Our Heroes Do?

But First Another Animation Station Post as a Tribute to the Late Bob Newhart

We get a nice aerial view of the Telmarine castle at night. The music in this bit is subtle but very effective. A gryphon swoops down carrying Edmund and hides on the roof of a tower. The sentry there hears something but can’t see them. Suddenly, the gryphon’s claws snatch him away and Edmund drops down in his place. Cautiously, he looks over the edge of the tower, then sends a signal with his electric torch. I love the use of Edmund’s torch in this way. It’s one of the cleverest ideas in any Narnia adaptation that’s not from the books.^[1]C. S. Lewis was a big fan of the medieval aesthetic and might have considered using a flashlight in medieval style battle to be “soiling it.” But I don’t watch movies because C. S. … Continue reading

More gryphons fly down towards the castle. The subtle music becomes more pronounced and distinctly suspenseful. From faraway, the rest of the Narnian army sees the signals and emerges from the wood. Well, not quite all the rest of the army. Inside the courtyard, Reepicheep and two more mice pop up from what appears to be a sewer vent. We see the gryphons are carrying Peter, Susan and Caspian as they fly over the ramparts, the two kings and the queen kill more sentries.

I suppose I have to note something here. I’m reluctant to do so since it requires getting into some inflammatory subjects, but I feel like it’s necessary to do a comprehensive analysis of this adaptation. Susan in this scene and throughout the film kills enemies just as efficiently as the other main characters whereas in the book, she hated killing even a nontalking bear. Now Susan isn’t my favorite character from the book, though I do like her, so I’m not too bothered by this, and I can admire her cinematic counterpart’s fighting skills in the book just as I do Edmund’s or Caspian’s. I am a bit cynical about the reasoning behind the change to the character though. From what I remember of the interviews with the director^[2]Which I am too lazy to look up now., there was a fear that portraying Susan as being stereotypically feminine and refraining from warfare would send the message that girls can’t be warriors. This logic would lead to the movie’s Susan needing to be a master chef, a mechanical genius, a budding poet, and who knows what else lest impressionable viewers get the idea that girls can’t be those things either. Everyone assumes these days that if a generally male dominated story has one female character or for that matter, if a generally female dominated story has one male character, then they must be the representative of their entire sex. Doesn’t it occur to anyone that sometimes in real life, there will be a solitary woman in a group of men or vice versa and the stories are simply reflecting that?^[3]Of course, in some cases, the token girl or token guy is supposed to represent their entire sex. If the storytellers want gender to be a theme, I interpret them that way, but that doesn’t seem … Continue reading

And what’s really annoying from a book fan’s perspective is that Susan is not the only heroine in the story! There’s also Lucy whose personality is much more that of an action heroine and whom in another Narnia book, The Horse and his Boy, goes to battle while Susan stays home though she only serves as an archer. She’s not called Queen Lucy the Valiant for nothing after all.^[4]Critics who condemn the Narnia books as misogynistic tend to focus, maybe a little obsessively, on Susan. That’s reasonable enough since she’s very stereotypically feminine both in her … Continue reading But in this adaptation, Susan takes part in all the action scenes and her sister only takes part in one in which she ends up needing to be a rescued by one of the male characters. Way to add female empowerment to the story, enlightened ones. Still, I guess that makes sense with the situation. The movie has set it up that this attack on the castle is against Aslan’s will and Lucy is the only one really trying to follow his wishes. Also, Georgie Henley’s age and stature at the time of filming would have made it hard to believe in her as action heroine. Oh well.

A Telmarine soldier sees a minotaur and draws his sword, but Nikabrik knocks him out from behind. Meanwhile Reepicheep and his band scurry up the ropes of the drawbridge and into the gatehouse. I love the comical theme that plays for them on the soundtrack. I also love that the first obstacle they encounter there is a sleeping housecat.

Caspian, Peter, Susan and Trumpkin climb down the walls of the castle via rope and Caspian breaks into the window of Dr. Cornelius’s study, wanting to get the man to safety before the raid commences. Caspian finds his spectacles lying on the table and his hourglass tipped over. Apparently, Cornelius would never leave the room that way unless he had no choice.

Caspian: We have to find him.
Peter: You don’t have time. You need to get the gate open.
Caspian: You wouldn’t even be here without him, and neither would I.
Susan (to Peter): You and I can deal with Miraz.
Caspian: And I can still get to the gate in time.

Caspian runs off to look for Cornelius to Peter’s disapproval. Trumpkin heads in a different direction. Back at the gatehouse, a Telmarine soldier enters to find, in a hilarious sight gag, the cat bound and gagged. While he’s still trying to process this, he hears a sword being drawn and turns around to see Reepicheep dangling in front of his face. “Yes, I’m a mouse,” says Reepicheep and (it’s implied) slits the man’s throat. Despite this Narnia movie focusing on violence more than the last one, we still don’t see any blood gushing from the throat. Some viewers may find that a distraction but, honestly, I don’t think I could enjoy this action scene with realistic wounds. And I really do enjoy this scene, far more than I enjoy the climactic battle or the melting waterfall scene from the previous film. I’ll give a reason why shortly. The mice run to the door, killing another soldier in their path, and climb on each other’s backs to open it. Trumpkin enters in lieu of Caspian just in time to shoot a third solider entering from the far end of the room.

Reepicheep: Ah, we were expecting someone…you know, taller.
Trumpkin: You’re one to talk.
Reepicheep: Was that supposed to be irony?

OK, I know I said I find this movie’s humor more consistently funny that the last one’s, but that bit is pretty weak.^[5]To be fair, the worst line is the last one which Eddie Izzard, if I remember the audio commentary correctly, improvised. The movie didn’t have to keep it though. But this is a good example of what I love about the raid scene, the first part of it anyway. Not only does it incorporate Edmund’s torch, but it also makes the various creatures’ strengths and weaknesses an integral part of the action. The mice’s small size and agility enables them to infiltrate the gatehouse, but their relative lack of strength means they need help opening the gate and lowering the drawbridge. Caspian’s delay in assisting them adds to the suspense.

We cut to Cornelius lying asleep in the dungeon. Caspian awakens him just as the professor awoke him in the first scene of the movie. (Well, not exactly. He’s considerate enough not to put a hand over his mouth.) “Five more minutes?” Caspian says with a grin. “What are you doing here?” Cornelius demands as Caspian unchains him. “I didn’t help you escape just so you could break back in! You have to get out before Miraz learns you’re here.” Caspian hands him the key. “He will find soon enough,” he says, “We are giving him your cell.” Caspian turns to leave but Cornelius grabs him by the shoulder. “Don’t underestimate Miraz as your father did,” he warns. Caspian’s eyes widen and he seems to be having trouble breathing. “What are you talking about?” he says. Dr. Cornelius lowers his head. “I’m sorry,” he says. Caspian throws his hands off and runs out of the dungeon like he’s terrified. I don’t like where this scene is going but Ben Barnes does a good job of conveying his character’s horror at realizing Cornelius’s implication.

Peter and Susan sneak through the castle’s corridors. We cut to Miraz and Prunaprismia asleep in their bed. A sword pokes Miraz’s throat. He opens his eyes only to laugh condescendingly upon identifying the intruder. “Thank goodness,” he says, “You’re safe.” That’s right. It’s not Peter or Susan who is holding the sword. It’s Caspian. “Get up,” he snaps. Despite his casual, utterly unintimated attitude, Miraz must take Caspian seriously as a threat on some level because he obeys. His wife awakens.

Prunaprismia: Caspian?
Caspian: Stay where you are.
Prunaprismia: What are you doing?
Miraz: I should think it’s obvious, dear. You know, some families might consider this inappropriate behavior.
Caspian: That doesn’t seem to have stopped you!
Miraz: But you are not like me, are you?

Caspian doesn’t drop his sword or anything, but he draws back, a little uncertain of himself. “It’s sad,” says his uncle, “the first time you’ve shown any backbone and it’s such a waste.” Prunaprismia meanwhile grabs a crossbow from behind her bed, loads it and points it at her nephew. “Put the sword down, Caspian. I don’t want to do this,” she says. “We don’t want you to either!” says Susan as she enters the chamber, her own bow drawn, with Peter. This creates a Mexican standoff situation with Susan aiming an arrow at Prunaprismia who is aiming one at Caspian who is pointing a sword at Miraz who snarks “This used to be a private room.”

Again, I generally enjoy this movie’s banter, but I’m not sure if Miraz’s snarkiness really benefits the scene. It dilutes the suspense, making it obvious the scene is meant to be fun and nobody we like is really going to die.^[6]From what I understand, humor in recent Marvel movies has been criticized for much the same reason. The idea, I guess, is to make Miraz intimidating by having him be really fearless but I don’t think it works that well. Maybe the movie agrees with me on some level because in the following exchange, Caspian manages to back his uncle against the wall through sheer intensity though the man’s expression doesn’t betray any fear.

Peter (to Caspian): What are you doing?! You’re supposed to be at the gatehouse!
Caspian: No! (to Miraz) Tonight for once I want the truth! Did you kill my father?
Miraz: Now we get to it.
Prunaprismia: You said that your brother died in his sleep.
Miraz: That was more or less true.
Susan: Caspian, this won’t make things any better.
Miraz: We Telmarines would have nothing had we not taken it. Your father knew that as well as anyone.
Prunaprismia: How could you?
Miraz: For the same reason, you will pull that trigger. For our son!
Prunaprismia (to Caspian): Stop!
Susan (to Prunaprismia): Stay right there!
Miraz: You need to make a choice, dear. Do you want our child to be king? Or do you want him to be like Caspian here? Fatherless?!

I remember the first time I watched the movie. I’d been enjoying it so much up to this point and I distinctly remember being annoying at this scene for taking me out of it. What are my problems? First of all, I can’t empathize with Caspian demanding to know if Miraz murdered his father because…well, of course, he did! It’s traditional in stories like this. And it isn’t as if Caspian had believed his uncle was a wonderful human being before now. He wasn’t surprised at all that the man was out to kill him. I can still buy that he would be stunned by the idea that Miraz killed his father. (The book describes Caspian as “feeling very queer” when Cornelius reveals the information to him though not a big deal is made of it afterwards.) But why jeopardize the whole siege by immediately running to Miraz and demanding an answer instead of doing his job at the gatehouse? He knew the plan was to capture Miraz anyway. Why not wait and interrogate him later? I guess I buy that Caspian was so shocked by the idea of his father being a murder victim that he panicked and lost all confidence that the Narnians would succeed in taking Miraz and the castle. But, again, should the idea have really been that much of a shock? While Peter is generally the less likeable of the two characters in the movie, I can’t blame him for being exasperated with Caspian here.

Then there’s what they’re doing with Prunaprismia. In the book, we don’t know anything about her except that she has red hair and dislikes Caspian. The former thing was once was seen as very unattractive, though happily for redheads this is no longer so, and while the latter doesn’t necessarily make her an evil person, realistically speaking, the book doesn’t want us to think that realistically. I’m not a fan of adaptations taking (implied) villains and making them more sympathetic but, to be fair, doing so for Prunaprismia will allow this movie to keep a memorable moment from the book’s last chapter that would probably have otherwise been cut for being too random. However, this feels like such a strange time to suddenly delve into her character! She’s only appeared in two scenes prior to this one and had no dialogue unless you count screaming while giving birth. I had no problem with this on a first view, assuming that, as in the source material, she wasn’t going to be important. And now in a scene that really should be focused on Caspian, she’s given this highly dramatic situation. It’s so awkward and jarring. It doesn’t help that while Alicia Borrachero’s performance is generally great, her line readings in this scene make her character seem less shocked by these revelations about her beloved husband than she should be. If I remember the audio commentary correctly, the idea was that she had suspected that he wasn’t the greatest guy for a while but there’s not much about the dialogue to suggest this.

Anyway, the prospect of her son growing up without a father makes Prunaprismia pull the trigger, wounding her nephew in the shoulder. Miraz takes advantage of this distraction to get away, evading Peter. His wife throws herself on the bed, weeping. (Again, Borrachero is generally great in this movie, the casting of which is generally superb.) We cut to Edmund on the tower, fumbling with his torch and dropping it on the parapet below. When I first saw the movie, I thought this was because he was startled by Prunaprismia’s scream. On reflection, I think that’s just a coincidence since if she were really that loud, every soldier in the area would have reacted to her. Part of me likes the idea though as it would make Caspian’s dumb decision even more integral to the scene. A Telmarine finds the torch. Hilariously, while trying to figure out what it is, he shines it in his own face and waves it around, confusing Nikabrik, Glenstorm and the other Narnians outside who wonder what crazy signals these are supposed to be. Edmund jumps onto the man’s back.

Throughout this, the clamor of bells is heard. Miraz has sounded the alarm. We see Telmarine soldiers jumping out of bed and grabbing their armor and weapons. Instead of beating a hasty retreat, Peter, followed by Susan and Caspian, runs down to open the gates and let in his forces. “Now, Ed, now! Signal the troops!” he calls as he races across the courtyard. “I’m a bit busy, Pete,” calls Edmund who’s fighting the Telmarine who found his torch.^[7]Fun facts: Peter is never called Pete in the books and Susan is never called Su in the movies. Edmund and Lucy are called Ed and Lu in both. Well, I think those facts are fun. It turns out Peter also has to battle some opponents before he reaches the gates. Thankfully, both brothers win those fights and Edmund retrieves the torch, but he has some trouble getting it to work. Peter meanwhile desperately turns the crank for raising the castle gate’s portcullis despite Susan’s protests that it’s too late and they must call off the attack while they have the option. “No, I can still do this!” insists Peter. “Help me!” Seeing that they don’t have time to change his mind and more Telmarine troops are coming, Caspian and Susan obey. Meanwhile, Trumpkin and the mice work the machinery to lower the drawbridge as well as they can unassisted. “Exactly who are you doing this for, Peter?” Susan demands. He doesn’t reply, either because he’s using all his strength and energy on the gate or because he doesn’t have a good answer.

Finally, Edmund gets his torch to work. He signals the Narnian troops who charge through the town, across the bridge and into the courtyard. Not a moment too soon for their leaders since that courtyard is filling with Telmarine enemies. As he, Susan and Caspian enter the fray, Peter yells, “For Narnia!” Now in the last movie, his battle cry was “For Narnia and for Aslan!” I’d like to think the omission of that last part here is to reflect his attitude toward the Lion but in the next Narnia film, the Narnians battle cry will still just be “For Narnia,” so that’s probably reading too much into it.

I don’t have much to say about the ensuing battle. I don’t find it as fun as the first part of this scene but, to be fair, it’s not supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be intense and depressing. There is a really silly moment when Susan kills an opponent, not by shooting him or stabbing him, but throwing an arrow at him. And there’s a cool moment for Edmund when he has to slide away from a bunch of enemy archers and kicks a door shut behind him. It’s full of the arrows the next moment. He runs down a hall and out onto another parapet, using his torch to bar the door behind him. I’d like to take this moment to say that though is one of the only major characters in the movie not to have an arc of some sort, he’s a fun, likeable presence.

Back to the scene. Miraz sends troops to the gatehouse. Trumpkin puts up a good fight but gets pushed out a window. It’s not a short fall and the landing looks like it hurts. A minotaur sees the portcullis being lowered and runs under it, holding it up with great effort. Peter finally decides the situation is hopeless and orders his army to retreat. Now the Narnia books describe a good king as being the first in every charge and the last in every retreat, so you could say that this goes against their philosophy. Honestly though, I can’t really blame the movie for disagreeing with that philosophy. Realistically speaking, you’ve got to retreat sometimes, and a king being killed or captured because he was the last to go means a terrible inconvenience for his side since he then has to be replaced. Anyway, to help get Susan to safety with all possible speed, Glenstorm pulls her onto his back. In the Narnia books, riding a centaur is a great honor that hardly anyone receives. I can buy that Glenstorm would casually bestow that honor on Susan since this is a desperate situation but as a book fan, I wish the movie would treat it as a big deal and not a matter of course.

As Glenstorm gallops off, Susan calls for Caspian who has disappeared. “I’ll find him,” says Peter. Needless to say, there’s a lot going on right now, so forgive me if this description is choppy. Various Narnians are escaping through the gates, but the minotaur is having a hard time keeping the portcullis up. Edmund’s pursuers break down the door he barred behind him, but he evades them by dropping off the parapet onto a gryphon’s back. Caspian emerges from the castle on his horse-ah, yes, I neglected to mention Glozelle brought back Caspian’s lost horse when he captured Trumpkin-along with Dr. Cornelius on another one and a third horse for Peter. Miraz sees this from his balcony view. “Give the order,” he tells Glozelle. “My men are still down there,” Glozelle protests but Miraz grabs his crossbow from him and shoots the minotaur, yelling, “Now!” Apparently, that order was for the Telmarine archers to rain arrows down into the courtyard indiscriminately. The minotaur manages to hold up under the onslaught long enough for more of his allies, including Peter, Susan and Caspian, to escape. For a moment, he even manages to defiantly raise the portcullis higher than he had it before. But eventually it’s too much and he collapses. I’m afraid this didn’t have the intended sad effect on me since I never liked the idea of heroic Narnian minotaurs and was happy to see one less.

Amusingly, the gap his body makes under the portcullis is still big enough to let Reepicheep and the other mice escape. But, alas, far more Narnians are now trapped like rats.

Peter, Susan and Glenstorm pause in their flight to look back at them. We see a faun try to climb up the gate, only to be shot down. For all the problems I have with William Moseley’s performance as Peter in this movie, he shines here with some really heartbreaking facial expressions.

He’s not the only one. There’s a nice moment where one of Glenstorm’s sons gives a stoic nod to his father from behind the gate and turns to face the enemy. Caspian calls to Peter that the drawbridge is being raised and now is his last chance to escape. Peter doesn’t like leaving his troops behind, but he forces himself to do so. The scene ends with Edmund and the gryphon flying over the courtyard, staring down in horror. While we don’t get a close look, the place is clearly filled with dead and dying Narnians.

I’m somewhat bewildered whenever fans bring this scene up as an example of the Narnia movies adding pointless action scenes. Unlike the melting waterfall from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005), it’s integral to the plot and can’t really be removed from it.^[8]Though in the melting waterfall’s defense, that scene did serve to build up to Peter slaying Maugrim. I’d also argue it’s not so much an added scene as something from the book that’s been changed a good deal. Remember in the source material, Caspian didn’t blow the horn and summon the Pevensies until he and the Narnians had been fighting for a while.

It was after they had taken up their quarters in and around the How that fortune began to turn against them. King Miraz’s scouts soon found their new lair, and he and his army arrived on the edge of the woods. And as so often happens, the enemy turned out stronger than they had reckoned. Caspian’s heart sank as he saw company after company arriving. And though Miraz’s men may have been afraid of going into the wood, they were even more afraid of Miraz, and with him in command they carried battle deeply into it and sometimes almost to the How itself. Caspian and other captains of course made many sorties into the open country. Thus, there was fighting on most days and sometimes by night as well; but Caspian’s party had on the whole the worst of it.

At last there came a night when everything had gone as badly as possible, and the rain which had been falling heavily all day had ceased at nightfall only to give place to raw cold. That morning Caspian had arranged what was his biggest battle yet, and all had hung their hopes on it. He, with most of the Dwarfs, was to have fallen on the King’s right wing at daybreak, and then, when they were heavily engaged, Giant Wimbleweather, with the Centaurs and some of the fiercest beasts, was to have broken out from another place and endeavoured to cut the King’s right off from the rest of the army. But it had all failed. No one had warned Caspian (because no one in these later days of Narnia remembered) that Giants are not at all clever. Poor Wimbleweather, though as brave as a lion, was a true Giant in that respect. He had broken out at the wrong time and from the wrong place, and both his party and Caspian’s had suffered badly and done the enemy little harm. The best of the Bears had been hurt, a Centaur terribly wounded, and there were few in Caspian’s party who had not lost blood. It was gloomy company that huddled under the dripping trees to eat their scanty supper.

This leads to Caspian finally blowing the horn and the attack on the castle in the movie leads to Peter finally sending Lucy to look for Aslan. (As I mentioned before, the script really should have given him a better reason to specifically do that, but I digress.) If the adaptation had literally followed the book, there would have been several costly battles rather than just one. Technically, this is cutting action scenes. Is the problem changing the location? Personally, I think that’s an improvement. Having the battle take place at the castle is much more visually interesting that in “the open country.”^[9]Maybe the issue is that in the book, at the very first war council, the overzealous mice “proposed storming Miraz in his own castle that very night.” Thus, an idea that was presented as … Continue reading Is the problem that the scene is too depressing? The equivalent in the book is more humorous with an emphasis on Wimbleweather’s bumbling.^[10]It’s even more comical in the book where it’s followed by a scene of him weeping over his mistake and drenching the mice, much to their annoyance. I can understand that criticism, I guess. It is sort of untrue to the book’s spirit. But in a movie, unless it’s a farce which is untrue of either version of Prince Caspian, I’m not sure how you could play an army suffering so without being tacky. Honestly, C. S. Lewis only gets away with it in literary form by skimming over the battle scene itself. The only way to be perfectly true to the book’s spirit at this point would be to show a series of unsuccessful battles in a montage and, I’m sorry, I like the scene in the movie better than that idea. Is the problem just that this scene makes Peter too unlikeable? I guess I can’t argue with that. I’ve written before in this series, why his character assassination doesn’t rankle me as much as some fans and I’ll probably write more about the topic later. For now, I’ll just close by saying that, on the whole, I personally enjoy this scene in the movie a lot.

Next Week: Sorcery and Sudden Vengeance AKA The Film’s Weirdest Scene

At the Telmarine camp, Glozelle tells Miraz that enough weapons and armor for two regiments have been stolen from them. (In the book, the armor the dwarfs made was better than anything the Telmarines had by the way.) He also shows him a message the thieves left carved into the supply wagon they raided. YOU WERE RIGHT TO FEAR THE WOODS X. Sopespian wonders what X could mean. “Caspian,” says Miraz, “the Tenth.”

Glozelle: I apologize, my lord. The blame is mine.
Miraz: I know. Tell me, General, how many men did you lose?
Glozelle: None, my lord.
Miraz: None?
Glozelle: They came like ghosts in the dead of night. We never saw them.
Miraz: Then how do you explain your injuries?

Glozelle looks bewildered. Sopespian gives him a knowing look, no doubt trying to remind of their is-any-of-us-safe conversation. Suddenly, Miraz violently strikes Glozelle’s face, drawing blood. “I asked,” he says without raising his voice, “how many men were killed during this bloody Narnian attack?” Handing him a sword, he adds, “Of which you were a fortunate survivor? General?” Glozelle realizes to his dismay that Miraz wants him to kill some of his troops so that he can blame it on the Narnians and drum up support for the war effort. (Also, probably to punish said troops for not stopping the thieves.)

After weighing his options, he accepts the sword and says “three.” Miraz and Sopespian head back to Miraz’s horse. “I apologize, Lord Sopespian,” says Miraz. “Caspian is not a victim of this savage uprising. He is the instigator. It seems Narnia is in need of a new king.” He rides off. Sopespian and Glozelle exchange glances again and the scene ends with Glozelle about to kill the unfortunate three.

This little scene is original to this adaptation and in my opinion, it works splendidly. As I’ve mentioned before, the book gave no buildup to Glozelle and Sopespian’s rising enmity towards Miraz, not even introducing them by name until right when they become vital to the plot in the third-to-last chapter. I think that can be defended. The book’s plot is a bit plodding as it is and slowing down to focus on characters who wouldn’t be relevant to the end might make that worse. But having the subplot come nearly out of nowhere had some obvious drawbacks too. Not only do scenes like this in the movie eliminate them but they also make Miraz creepier than he is in the book. (Sergio Castellitto’s performance continues to excel.) If I have a quibble, it’s that this makes Glozelle and Sopespian’s motivations for turning against Miraz much more sympathetic than they are in the source material. But if the adaptation had to make that alteration, at least it does so well.

Meanwhile, the good guys are trekking through the woods. Trufflehunter privately asks Trumpkin what the two kings and two queens of old are like.

Trumpkin: Malcontents. Complainers. Stubborn as mules in the morning.
Nikabrik: So, you like them then?
Pause
Trumpkin: Well enough.

Lucy overhears this and smiles. It’s a predictable bit of humor but it makes me smile too. Well, smirk anyway. As a fan of the book, I’d object that it makes Trumpkin less respectful and deferential to the Pevensies than he is at this point there, but I’ve already written about that.

Anyway, the Narnians emerge from the trees into a clearing where an ancient mound towers. There was a bit of dialogue cut from the movie in which Glenstorm explained that the mound has been abandoned for hundreds of years and that only the mice knew of its existence. This probably should have been kept in the final cut since it’s a bit odd to see the Narnians encamped at a major new location without a word of introduction to it. The bit about the mice was also a nice nod to a minor revelation from the book that the movie would cut. Still, there will be an explanation of sorts in a matter of moments, so it’s not too annoying if you’re patient.

Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy do a heroic walk into the entrance. Caspian hangs back in awe of them and maybe just a tad envious. There’s a funny moment where the youngest of the centaurs doing a military salute (Gomez Mussenden, son of costume designer Isis Mussenden) nearly decapitates Lucy.

In the torchlit tunnels that riddle the mound, we see Narnians hard at work forging weapons. “It may not be what you are used to, but it is defensible,” Caspian tells Peter. Susan directs Peter’s attention to a less busy tunnel where she shows him images from the last movie, of her and Lucy riding on Aslan’s back, of all four Pevensies standing by their thrones on the day of their coronation, carved into the stone walls. The kings and queens of old stare at these memorials of themselves. The melancholy music that plays over this is nicely haunting. “What is this place?” Lucy asks Caspian. (I told you we’d get an explanation of sorts soon!) “You don’t know?” Caspian asks, surprised. He takes a torch from the wall and leads them around a bend. The camera lingers on a carving of Tumnus by the lamppost. When I first saw the movie, I was irritated by this since I had clearly seen the iconic image behind the characters, and I didn’t need the movie to stop and point it out to me. But, on repeat viewings, I’ve come to appreciate that we hear the musical theme of his lullaby on the soundtrack at this moment.

Caspian leads the Pevensies into a dark room. He sticks his torch in a vat of lamp oil (or something) that runs along the wall, setting off a chain reaction of fire. This illuminates stone carvings of various Narnian creatures on the walls. By far the biggest is the one of Aslan on the far wall facing the Pevensies.

But that’s not the big reveal. The big reveal is the remains of the Stone Table in the center of the room.

Lucy slowly and gravely walks toward the sacred artifact with her siblings following behind her. She sets her hand on the stone, turns to Susan and says, “He must know what he’s doing.” This is a callback to what Susan said to her in the last movie when Aslan had let the White Witch and her soldiers kill him. (I wrote about the line at some length.) This movie is trying to explore the classic objection to Christianity:^[1]It applies to other worldviews that believe in a benevolent deity too but for purposes of simplicity, I’ll just refer to Christianity. I sincerely hope my readers who practice other religions … Continue reading How could a good God allow evil? The thing is the movie doesn’t really have much of an answer to this objection. To be fair, neither does the book but in the book, the question is implicit rather than explicit-if it’s there at all. This moment is the closest we get with Lucy being reminded of a time when it really seemed that Aslan had dropped the ball, only for it to turn out that he had a great plan all along. Granted, it might be harder to justify why he would let Narnia be conquered, many of its citizens be killed and those that remained be forced to live as outlaws for generations, but this reminder gives her hope. And, for me, the moment works, largely thanks to Georgie Henley’s powerful performance. She conveys that Lucy’s doubts aren’t totally laid to rest, but she still feels she’s been given a good reason to hold onto her faith and she’s taking comfort in it. You could also infer that she’s saddened by the memory of the horrible pain Aslan went through but that she’s also encouraged by it to trust his goodness.

You know whose trust in Aslan hasn’t been bolstered by this? Peter. “I think it’s up to us now,” he says curtly, evidently not liking to be reminded of the lion.

We cut to another day or possibly the same day later. A faun sentry outside the mound, which is called Aslan’s How in the book by the way, spots a Telmarine scout watching from the thicket. Originally, this was part of a scene of Susan training the Narnian archers and winning an archery contest with a flirtatious Caspian. They would have been the ones to notice the scout at the end. Since I consider the idea of adding romance between these characters stupid, I approve of this cut. That being said, I also appreciated that the deleted scene had dialogue similar to an archery contest between Susan and Trumpkin in the book, a follow up to his fencing match with Edmund. And there’s a case to be made that if the movie had to include the romantic subplot, it would have been better to develop it. But, no, no, no! I did not type that. The less flirting between Susan and Caspian, the better.^[2]I should take this opportunity to say that I’m sure Anna Popplewell and Ben Barnes could play a good couple. I just don’t think that couple should have been these characters.

Inside the How, the Narnians hold a meeting. “It’s only a matter of time,” says Peter. “Miraz’s men and war machines are on their way.” In the book, the Telmarines were never described as having war machines but, you know, Hollywood. Actually, you know what? I agree with Hollywood on this one. If you’re going to do a war movie about heroic underdogs, why not give the bad guys war machines they don’t have? It makes sense. Back to the scene. “That means those same men aren’t protecting his castle,” Peter continues. “What do you propose we do, your Majesty?” asks Reepicheep. Peter and Caspian both start to answer at the same time. Awkward silence ensues and Peter glares Caspian into silence. In the book, by the way, King Miraz objects to the idea of High King Peter and King Edmund on the grounds that “how could there be two kings at the same time?” It’s kind of depressing that the adapters share the same mindset as the original story’s villain. Oh well.

Peter: Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us.
Caspian: But that’s crazy! No one has ever taken that castle!
Peter: There’s always a first time.
Trumpkin: We’ll have the element of surprise.
Caspian: But we have the advantage here!
Susan: If we dig in, we could probably hold them off indefinitely.

Peter looks mad at her for not siding with him. Caspian looks pleasantly surprised. See, I don’t just have a problem with the romance thing because it’s not in the book or because it’s a stereotypical Hollywood addition. We can’t tell here whether Susan is being reasonable in supporting Caspian or whether she’s just doing it because she’s attracted to him. It’s not impossible for her to have both motivations of course. Still, I feel like she’d be a more creditable leader if we knew she was genuinely approaching this from a neutral standpoint like the other characters.

Trufflehunter: I, for one, feel safer underground.
Peter (to Caspian): Look, I appreciate what you’ve done here. But this isn’t a fortress. It’s a tomb.
Edmund: Yes, and if they’re smart, the Telmarines will just wait and starve us out.
Pattertwig (cheerfully): We could collect nuts.
Reepicheep: Yes, and throw them at the Telmarines! Shut up!

I wrote before that I dislike the way this adaptation makes Reepicheep all sarcastic and quippy, but I actually think that line would work me if Izzard delivered it in a lordlier tone and if they cut the undignified “shut up” at the end. Anyway, Reepicheep tells Peter he’ll be happy to storm the castle. “If I get your troops in, can you handle the guards?” Peter asks Glenstorm. Glenstorm looks a little unsure. He exchanges glances with Caspian before replying but his reply is “Or die trying, my liege.” “That’s what I’m worried about,” says Lucy who is seated on the Stone Table. In the book, the characters would never dare sit on that, considering it disrespectful but I don’t mind giving the movie a pass since they’re clearly trying to imply visually that Lucy is the only one in the room thinking about Aslan right now.^[3]Well, Trufflehunter might be too.

Peter: Sorry?
Lucy: You’re all acting like there’s only two options. Dying here or dying there.
Peter: I’m not sure you’ve really been listening, Lu.
Lucy: No! You’re not listening! Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch, Peter?

Honestly, I don’t blame Peter for being confused. The movie doesn’t really do a good job of clarifying why Aslan, the one “who really defeated the White Witch,” would be against Peter’s proposal. Basically, what the adaptation is doing here is replacing Peter’s decision to follow the river rather than the invisible Aslan with this decision to attack the Telmarine castle rather than seek Aslan’s help. I’m good with that idea. While I may not be attracted to battle scenes per se, they’re probably more exciting than scenes of characters wandering in the woods. But in the book, Aslan specifically told Lucy (in the scene with the half-awake trees) to lead the others to him. He’s said no such thing in the movie’s version of the scene, so it’s not clear how the characters are defying him here. There are so many problems with this movie that could be easily fixed by a single, clarifying line of dialogue! It’s very frustrating. Anyway, the scene ends with Peter saying, “I think we’ve waited for Aslan long enough,” turning and striding out of the room. The camera shows the carved image of Aslan away from which he is walking. The script may not do a good job explaining how Peter’s plan equates to walking away from Aslan, but this is a great visual symbol of it. As I wrote before, this movie is good at keeping Aslan in viewers’ minds even as he’s physically absent.

Next Week: I Take a Break from Narnia and Bring Back the Animation Station Feature. It’ll Be a Weird One but Hopefully Interesting.