The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010) Part 1: Legal Ramifications of Impaling Relatives

This post is part of a lengthy series I’m doing on the Narnia movies. To understand the format, readers should start with this post.

The third and, as it would prove, last of Walden Media’s Narnia adaptations had a bit of a rough start. After Prince Caspian underperformed at the box office in 2008, the Disney company dropped the series. Walden found a new partner for it in Twentieth Century Fox^[1]This, of course, was before Disney bought Fox in their unending quest for world domination. but considerably less money was thrown at this third movie. It also had a shorter production time. The Prince Caspian movie was released three years after The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe where The Voyage of the Dawn Treader was released two years after Prince Caspian. Less ominously, this was the first Narnia film not to be directed by Andrew Adamson. (It’s rare for every movie in a lengthy series to have the same director.) Michael Apted was in the hot seat instead.

The result was that my favorite of the first three Narnia books^[2]Nowadays the first three books are listed as The Magician’s Nephew, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and The Horse and his Boy but most fans, including yours truly, believe they should be … Continue reading was adapted into my least favorite of the three Narnia movies. That sounds a bit harsh so I’m going to hasten to soften it. Since I really like, even love, the first films in the series^[3]Since I’m analyzing them in such detail on this blog, it probably sounds like I’m more critical of them than is actually the case., saying that The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010) is my least favorite isn’t the harshest indictment that could be given. While I don’t feel inclined to rewatch it as often as the other two movies, when I do, which is usually because I’ve just rewatched those other movies and feel that I might as well see the series through to the bitter end, I typically end up enjoying it more than I expect.

I should also say in this adaptation’s defense that it’s appropriate that it feels different from the previous two movies in the series since the book The Voyage of the Dawn Treader was very different from the books The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian. The first two Narnia stories have much the same narrative formula which the third one doesn’t follow at all. Instead of being about overthrowing a tyrant who has taken over Narnia and restoring a rightful (and much younger) ruler to the throne, it’s about an expedition to unknown regions. While this movie adaptation adds a villain and creates an action-filled climax and not to good effect in my opinion, to its credit, that villain is very different from the White Witch or Miraz. Unfortunately, it might have been a better movie if that villain were more like the White Witch or Miraz.

Having written some words in the adaptation’s defense, I’d now like to take issue with some other defenses I’ve read of it. There are definitely fans of the books out there who consider this a better adaptation than Prince Caspian on the grounds that it doesn’t try to turn Narnia into something for teenagers and it doesn’t make the characters who were likeable in the source material unlikeable. Those are valid arguments to an extent, I suppose. It’s true that no character in this adaptation undergoes the character assassination that Peter underwent in Prince Caspian. However, while none of the main characters here are unlikeable in the sense that I dislike them neither are they particularly likeable in the sense that I find them engaging or memorable-except for one and he’s arguably not supposed to be likeable! It’s also true that the Narnia books were written for kids and a really good adaptation, to some extent at least, has to be for them too. But it shouldn’t be just for kids. C. S. Lewis described his approach to the writing The Chronicles of Narnia thus.

I was writing… “for children” only in the sense that I excluded what I thought they would not like or understand, not in the sense of writing what I considered to be below adult attention…I never wrote down to anyone and whether the opinion condemns or acquits my own work, it certainly is my opinion that a book worth reading only in childhood is not worth reading even then.^[4]I wouldn’t go that far myself. Disposable things, like Kleenex, can serve a purpose.

Enough preliminaries. Let’s get started.

First, we transition from the Walden Media logo to a stained-glass window. I prefer the logo transition in Prince Caspian, mainly because this one required a weird camera angle, but it’s still nice.

The camera pulls back to reveal that this is part of a building in Cambridge. It’s also revealed that the art direction and visuals for this Narnia movie are not going to be as beautiful as those of the last two. I guess that’s a contentious statement but look at any of the screencaps from my previous blog posts about Narnia and then compare them to the ones in this post. To my eyes, the colors are too bright and pastel, and everything looks like CGI even when it isn’t. If I didn’t know better, I would assume this was a made-for-TV or direct-to-DVD spinoff of the Narnia movies rather than a “real” sequel.^[5]Arguably, the script gives the same impression. Part of that might be because of a reduced budget or a slightly rushed production but it also probably reflects the times in which these movies were made. It was probably around 2010 that popcorn movies^[6]Family popcorn movies anyway. gave up trying to make their worlds look solid and real, opting instead to have everything be bright and shiny and obviously fake. I’m grateful The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005) and Prince Caspian (2008) were made when they were. Another factor in this being the least visually appealing Narnia movie may be the absence of the great Roger Ford as the production designer. At least Isis Mussenden was still the costume designer.

This entry in the series also has a new composer for its soundtrack, David Arnold. Most of the music he wrote for it is functional but unmemorable. It does have its moments however, particularly in the last scene.

Now the first two movies each opened with a suspenseful nighttime scene of the main characters narrowly escaping being killed in their own homes. This was followed in each case by an opening credits montage of them fleeing those homes. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader doesn’t start that way. Right off the bat, we get the brief opening titles (Fox 2000 Pictures and Walden Media present The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader) and then launch into the first scene, which is not suspenseful or exciting. That’s not a bad thing per se. As I said, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader should be different from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian. And none of the Narnia books have action-packed openings. The beginning of this adaptation is technically truer to the beginning of its source material than the other two Narnia movies are to theirs. That being said, setting aside the books and just looking at these movies as movies, I’d have to say this one has the least engaging beginning.

Anyway, we see a sign saying, “enlist now”^[7]This, by the way, represents a minor change from the book which speaks of “the war years” as being “long ago.” and cut to our old friend Edmund Pevensie (Skandar Keynes) standing in line to do just that.

“Are you sure you’re eighteen?” the skeptical intake officer (Jared Robinsen) asks him. “Why? Do I look older?” replies Edmund. As I’ve mentioned, he has a great poker face. The officer looks at his identity card-or rather the identity card Edmund hands him. “Alberta Scrubb?” he asks incredulously. “That’s a typographical error,” says Edmund, “it’s supposed to be Albert A. Scrubb.” This is a fun scene though it suffers from the fact that the actor is older than the character and it really doesn’t look like he’d be too young to enlist. Anyway, Georgie Henley’s Lucy blows Edmund’s ruse by appearing and reminding him he’s supposed to be helping her with groceries. The officer hands Edmund back the card. (Jared Robinsen does a nice job with the character. Great turns from bit players are uncommon in this movie so I’m happy to point out when there is one.) The man standing behind him in line laughs annoyingly and rumples Edmund’s hair as he departs in disgrace. “Better luck next time, eh, squirt?” he says.

Outside the building, Edmund fumes.

Edmund: Squirt? He barely had two years on me! I’m a king! I’ve fought wars and I’ve led armies!
Lucy: Not in this world.
Edmund (bitterly): Yeah, instead I’m stuck here doing battle with Eustace Clarence Scrubb. If anyone so deserves a name…

You’ll notice that this conversation is almost exactly like the conversation between Peter and Susan near the beginning of the previous movie. I admire that one for giving Peter an inverse of the character arc he went through in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe rather than just rehashing it, so I’m quite disappointed to see that this sequel has no such qualms about rehashing arcs. The sad thing is being frustrated over going back to being a kid after having been a king would be much more in character for the books’ version of Edmund than for their version of Peter. Maybe if the Prince Caspian movie hadn’t given that trait to the latter, I’d be interested to see it in the former. I should stress that Edmund never threatens to become as unpleasant in this film as Peter did in the last one. Unfortunately, that’s largely because the writing for his character doesn’t have the conviction behind it that Peter’s had.

Let’s get back to Edmund’s last line which is a reference to the opening line of the book. “There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb and he almost deserved it.” A great line and I’m tickled that the movie includes a version of it. However, I feel like the way they phrased it makes it harder to get the joke, especially since the camera is focused on something else. You see, Lucy’s attention is drawn to a nearby soldier (Lucas Ross)) who is flirting with a nurse (Megan Hill.) Lucy absently tucks her hair behind her ear as the nurse does. “What are you doing?” asks Edmund. “Nothing,” she says, embarrassed, “Come on then.”

I’d better say a few words about Keynes and Henley who were both so great as these characters in the other two movies. They’re not great here. Keynes’s performance feels fake, compared to what it was in prior installments anyway. He’s obviously playing a character. Part of the problem may be the script by returning screenwriters Christopher Marckus and Stephen McFeely and Narnia newcomer Michael Petroni (The Book Thief.) Previously, the cinematic Edmund had been written as a pretty stoic character. Here he’s, well, basically Peter 2.0. For what it’s worth, that actually strikes me as closer to Edmund in the books in which he could be quite vocal and argumentative. But it doesn’t feel like the same character, and it does feel like a character that Keynes can’t play as easily. If he’s phoning in his line deliveries, Henley is maybe trying too hard with hers. She’s trying to portray Lucy as quiet, thoughtful and somewhat introverted, which is a great idea since she was too old by this point to convince as the perky young Lucy from the last two movies and the ending of this one will stress the character’s increased maturity. But the script doesn’t give Lucy anything thoughtful to say and barely anything thoughtful to do. It feels like the actress and the writers were fighting over the character, metaphorically speaking, and the director did nothing to combine their ideas, let alone contribute any of his own. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader ends with Edmund and Lucy, like Peter and Susan before them, being informed that they’ve “graduated” from Narnia, so to speak, and won’t return. If I hadn’t read the books and didn’t pay attention to the credits saying that this is “based on the book by C. S. Lewis,” I’d assume that was written into the script because Keynes and Henley were tired of this franchise and wanted out of it. That’s certainly how it feels watching their performances. Of course, the impressions I get from their performances are far from foolproof indicators of how the actors were actually feeling.^[8]For the record, Henley has spoken of this movie with affection in interviews. But they do impact my experience of watching the movie.

We cut to the bedroom of Edmund and Lucy’s cousin, the infamous Eustace Scrubb (Will Poulter.) One of the first things we learn about his character in the book is that he “liked animals, especially beetles, if they were dead and pinned on a card,” so I’m delighted to report that there’s a whole bulletin board of such cards on the wall. There’s also a school certificate honoring Eustace for personal hygiene. That’s not from the book but it sounds like something that would have been a source of pride to him there.

There are also a number of books in Eustace’s room. We don’t get a very good look at them but I can imagine them being “books of information” with “pictures of grain elevators or of fat foreign children doing exercises in model schools” as the book describes.^[9]Sorry if that description of foreign children offends. I didn’t write it.

We find Eustace writing in his diary. In the book, Eustace only started his diary after he became stuck in Narnia. Before that, he just used his notebook to keep track of the marks he got in school “for though he didn’t care much about any subject for its own sake, he cared a great deal about marks and would even go to people and say, ‘I got so much. What did you get?'” But all that would have cumbersome to explain in a movie, so I’m fine with the change. “Dear diary,” Eustace writes, “it is now day number 253 since my wretched cousins, Edmund and Lucy, invaded our house. I’m not sure how much longer I can cope living with them, having to share my things. If only one could treat relatives like one treats insects, all my problems would be solved. I could simply put them in a jar and pin them to my wall. Note to self: investigate legal ramifications of impaling relatives.” In the book, Eustace was actually glad to have Edmund and Lucy stay “For deep down inside him he liked bossing and bullying; and, though he was a puny little person who couldn’t have stood up even to Lucy, let alone Edmund, in a fight, he knew that there are dozens of ways to give people a bad time if you are in your own home and they are only visitors.” However, it’s very much in character for Eustace to write in his diary that his visitors are a pain while really enjoying the chance to torment them. I’m not sure if that black comedy about impaling relatives is in keeping with his character in the book but it’s funny. Hearing Lucy’s voice downstairs, he stashes the diary in his sock, hides the candy pile from which he’s been eating under his bed and heads down.

OK, my comments about this movie have been pretty dismissive so far, so to make up for that, I’m going to write about what is one of its biggest assets even though that’s not immediately apparent with this scene. Will Poulter’s Eustace is one of the greatest things in any Narnia adaptation, far outshining any previous portrayal of the character. In the words of one critic, “Many child actors play jerks like they know they’re supposed to be jerks, but Poulter plays the role with gusto, and convinces you that he believes he’s in the right.” Eustace is also one of the most quotable and entertainingly written characters in these Narnia movies. Sheesh, his comedy bits might even be funnier than their counterparts in the book! And this despite the fact that he’s only featured in this, the one with the weakest overall script. It’s downright bizarre, I tell you!

Downstairs, Eustace’s father sits in his armchair and reads the newspaper. “Hello, Uncle Harold,” says Lucy as she carries the groceries to the kitchen. “I tried to find some carrots but all they had were turnips again.” (The Scrubbs were vegetarians in the book by the way, so that tracks.) “Should I start making soup? Aunt Alberta’s on her way home.” Uncle Harold just coughs and turns the page in response to Lucy’s attempts to get his attention. He doesn’t get any dialogue, and his wife is only an offscreen voice in the movie’s final scene. (Neither actor is even credited anywhere online.) This is reasonable enough since the book told us a great deal about their characters without ever really depicting but it’s somewhat unfortunate as I think those two characters would benefit from expansion.^[10]This is controversial coming from a Narnia fan but I’m not crazy about C. S. Lewis’s satire of “very up-to-date and advanced people” in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which … Continue reading

Edmund rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at his uncle. “Father! Edmund’s making faces at you!” Eustace calls from the staircase. He then hits Edmund with a spitball. Edmund starts to chase him upstairs. Yeah, this is kind of a dumb scene^[11]I did say that Eustace’s greatness wasn’t immediately apparent. but Lucy distracts with the announcement that they’ve received a letter from Susan.

We flashback to Susan (Anna Popplewell) writing the letter in an American hotel.^[12]I guess I was wrong about Aslan’s resurrection being the only example of a flashback in the Narnia movies. On her desk, there’s a little figurine of a lamppost and one of a treasure chest. The latter might be a reference to the ancient treasure house in Prince Caspian.^[13]I don’t need to explain the former. There’s also a photo of her and her siblings at the train station in that movie. It’s a nice touch though I wonder when they would have taken it as they all look much happier than they did in either of the scenes there. (In reality, of course, it’s a promotional behind-the-scenes photo that’s been repurposed.)

“I do wish you were here with us,” writes Susan, “It’s been such an adventure! Though nothing like our times in Narnia. America is very exciting except we never see Father. He works so very hard.” In the book, by the way, Mr. Pevensie had a job lecturing in America. The implication here is that he’s doing military work. In her room at the Scrubbs’, Lucy reads the letter aloud to Edmund. “I was invited to the British consul’s tea party this week by a naval officer who happens to be very handsome. I think he fancies me. It seems the Germans have made the crossing difficult right now. Times are hard. Mother hopes you won’t mind another few months in Cambridge.” Edmund visibly reacts to this news. Lucy’s reaction is…less visible. “Another few months? How will we survive?” she says, and I honestly can’t tell if she’s genuinely devastated or if she’s sarcastically mocking Edmund. (See my previous comments on George Henley in this movie.) “You’re lucky,” he tells her, “At least you’ve got your own room. I’m stuck with mullet mouth.” Lucy goes over to a mirror to study her reflection. “Peter and Susan are the lucky ones, off on adventures,” she says. “Yeah, they’re the eldest and we’re the youngest,” gripes Edmund, “We don’t matter as much.” I should mention that this is pretty close to the spirit of the book. There, the reason Susan was the one who got to go to America was that “grownups thought her the pretty one of the family and she was no good at schoolwork (though otherwise very old for her age) and Mother said she ‘would get far more out of a trip to America than the youngsters.'”^[14]Peter was staying with Prof. Kirke from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe at this point in the book, preparing for exams. The professor would have been happy to have the other Pevensies too, but … Continue reading While Edmund obviously doesn’t try to enlist in the book, he and Lucy are implied to envy their older siblings, and Lucy is implied to resent the attention Susan receives because of her appearance, which subtly sets up later events in the story. The setup is less subtle here and, given the ages of the actresses, the attention Susan gets that Lucy wants is naturally from guys more than from grownups, but this all reasonably close to the source material.

“Do you think I look anything like Susan?” Lucy asks Edmund. “Lucy, have you seen this ship before?” he says, looking at a painting on the wall. “You didn’t answer my question,” she replies. Actually, no, that’s what she should reply but weirdly doesn’t. Edmund groans before asking about the ship, so maybe the implication is that she asks about her appearance so often he’s sick of it. Either that or he’s too wrapped up in his own problems to hear her and she’s too embarrassed to repeat her query. “Yes,” she says looking the old painting of a ship at sea, “it’s very Narnian looking, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, just another reminder that we’re here and not there,” Edmund grouses. They hear a voice coming from the doorway behind them.

Eustace: There once were two orphans who wasted their time believing in Narnian nursery rhymes.
Edmund: Please let me hit him!
Lucy: No!
Edmund: Don’t you ever knock?
Eustace: It’s my house! I can do as I please. You’re just guests.

To reinforce his point, Eustace walks into the room and sits down on Lucy’s bed. “What’s so fascinating about that picture anyway?” he asks. “It’s hideous.” To this, Edmund responds, “You won’t see it from the other side of the door.” That’s pretty close to the dialogue from this scene in the book. Eustace also made fun of his cousins’ belief in Narnia via poetry in the book too though his poem there was different. “Edmund, it looks like the water’s actually moving,” says Lucy as she stares at the picture. She says something similar in the book but there it was in response to Eustace asking what it was she liked about the art style. Here it kind of sounds like she’s drunk. (See my previous comments on Georgie Henley in this movie.) “What rubbish!” says Eustace. “You see? That’s what happens when you read all those fanciful novels and fairy tales of yours!” That definitely sounds like the sentiment Eustace would endorse in the book.

Edmund counters with his own poem. “There once was a boy known as Eustace who read books full of facts that were useless.” Lucy gives this a pity laugh. I think it’s supposed to be a pity laugh anyway. (See my previous comments on…well, you know.) “People who read fairy tales are always the sort that become a hideous burden to people like me,” says Eustace, “who read books of real information!” Now Edmund’s dander is really up. “‘Hideous burden?'” he repeats. “I haven’t seen you lift a finger since we’ve been here!” Seeing that Edmund is becoming threatening, Eustace tries to make a hasty retreat, but Edmund blocks his way and closes the door.

Edmund: I’ve a right mind to tell your father it was you who stole Aunt Alberta’s sweets!
Eustace: Liar!
Edmund: Oh really? I found them under your bed. And you know what? I licked every one of them!
Eustace: Eww! I’m infected with you!

OK, that’s stupid but while those two have been arguing, something magical has been happening. The painting on the wall has come to life. I love how it starts slowly. First, the waves appear to move subtly.^[15]Not as subtly as possible but it’s subtle for this movie. Then there’s a little trickle of water coming from the frame. Then it’s unmistakable.

“Edmund, the painting!” cries Lucy. Wind issuing from the frame blows in her face and salt spray splashes her. Edmund and Lucy turn to see water pouring from the picture onto the floor. “What’s going on here?” Eustace demands. “Lucy, do you think…?” Edmund says. “It’s some kind of trick!” declares the frightened Eustace. “Stop it or I’ll tell Mother! Mother! Mother!” In the book, by the way, Eustace called his parents by their first names. I wish that was another little detail this adaptation could have preserved but I understand it might have been confusing for newcomers to the story. When Alberta doesn’t respond to Eustace’s bawling, he says, “Oh, I’ll just smash the rotten thing” and tears the picture off the wall. That’s what he does in the book or rather tries to do and Edmund and Lucy, having more experience with magic, try to stop him though none of them succeeds.

Here, Eustace does pull the picture off, but the force of the water is too much for him and his cousins combined and they have to drop it. By now, the entire room is flooded and in a matter of minutes, the water is well over everyone’s head. When they manage to resurface, they’re no longer at Cambridge but inside the painting. This is a little different from the book’s description of the scene which implies the character stumbled into the picture but it’s a cool transition in its own way. It actually reminds me of surreal images of Chris Van Allsburg’s picture books, such as Jumanji, The Wreck of the Zephyr or The Mysteries of Harris Burdick.^[16]Incidentally, Van Allsburg also created cover art for the Narnia books in 1994. Part of me wonders how come the water doesn’t go under the door and flood the rest of the house but the movie’s final scene will (kind of) address that.^[17]And to be fair, the book’s version is pretty surreal too. When this film first played in cinemas, it was in 3D since that was all the rage back then. 3D gives me a headache and I would have gladly gone without it, but I will say this was one scene where the device really added to the experience. Just as the water appeared to be shooting out of the painting in the movie, it also appeared to be shooting out of the screen. I may not find this movie’s visuals to be as beautiful as those of the other two Narnia films, but I’m happy to say they can be fun.

Next Week: On Board the Dawn Treader

Bibliography

ON THREE WAYS OF WRITING FOR CHILDREN (scu.edu.tw)

Lewis, C. S. (1952) The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. HarperCollins Publishers.