I had to be dragged to this, the latest installment of C.S. Lewis' epic series. Once again, I have to thank my dear husband and children for their stubbornness.

Disney seems to have outdone themselves in translating Lewis' work. Despite a few badly timed jokes, the movie rolls smoothly and has a very grand feeling.

For characters, we are treated to the Pevensie children again: darling Lucy, formidable Susan, noble Peter, and impulsive Edmund. The actors themselves have grown in the three years since filming The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Georgie Henley as Lucy is still small, dimpled and charming, but her big 'sister' Anna Popplewell is a young lady now. Skandar Keynes as Edmund no longer seems to be a cute little boy but is now an adolescent, complete with voice change and thinner face. William Moseley, playing the oldest boy Peter, is nearly an adult now, with a striking resemblance to Prince William. When his handsome young face first appeared on the screen I heard quite a few gasps and giggles from the younger set of girls in the cinema.
A face that got even more of a rave review, however, was that of the young Prince Caspian, Ben Barnes. Soulful dark eyes and a strong jaw on this young man make for a teenage girl's heartthrob, I suppose. He played his part admirably, but the few tender moments between himself and the budding Susan were a bit overplayed, I think. I do not think that he is as talented an actor as the four children who play opposite him as the Pevensies, but I don't think it really detracted from the movie.

One great treat (for me, at least) was seeing the extremely talented Warwick Davis play Nikabrik, the treacherous Narnian dwarf. We are all familiar, hopefully, with Warwick from the epic movie Willow, and if you haven't ever seen that movie I demand that you run right out and rent it! You may have also enjoyed Warwick more recently as the manically depressed robot Marvin in Douglas Adam's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Warwick played opposite another familiar face, Peter Dinklage. As Trumpkin, Dinklage is a crusty and snide dwarf who eventually finds friendship and hero status with the little troup of evil-fighters.

I recently had the pleasure of watching Sergio Castellitto in Bella Martha (or Mostly Martha), the original German-language version of the considerably inferior American film, No Reservations.

Castellitto is a hard-working actor and director from Italy, and I am glad to see him start to appear in more mainstream films over here. His smoldering looks and excellent acting make for the perfect villian in this film, Miraz, Caspian's evil and power-hungry uncle.

Cornell John is both noble and magnificent as the centaur Glenstorm. In one scene, he reared up in slow motion to surge into battle, and it was truly one of the best cinematic experiences of my life!
The battle scenes were truly epic. After the LOTR trilogy, I suppose directors are under pressure to create overwhelming emotion and granduer on the battlefield, and I do not think they did themselves under in this movie. Shot in both glorious New Zealand and under-appreciated Czech Europe, the scenery was a treat for the senses and a further inspiration to travel! (Someday!)

The story itself is one, once again, of fighting evil with good, of faith tested and tempered. We see the central characters struggle once again with loyalty, pride, kindness, and wise choices. We thrill when Peter vanquishes an enemy but is noble enough to not take a life, and we cheer when Susan's arrows- swift and true- find their mark.

It is not, however, a re-telling or re-hash of the first film in any way. There are no tiresome flashbacks, no overly embroidered storyline, and no inexplicable plot twists for the sake of idiotic producers. Someday, I will meet Clive Staples Lewis (what a name, no wonder he took to writing!) in heaven and I shall give him a huge hug, after asking humbly for his autograph.

This film did resort to a bit more modern banter than the first, and the snob inside of me cringed ever so slightly. But these few times were not horrible, and I do feel that they connect with the modern generation better than a lot of stuffy British colloquilalisms from WWII.

The story addressed a crisis of faith, and meshed perfectly with my own personal drivel, for which I am profoundly grateful. But moral lessons aside, this movie will fill you with a sense of triumph, hope, and humility.

Go see it, by all means.

Labels: C. S. Lewis, Caspian, centaur, Disney, dwarf, entertainment, fantasy, fiction, great movies, kids movie, movie, movies, Narnia, Prince Caspian, review

Is there yet anything sacred from the eighties? That decade of American prosperity, revolting clothes, ratty hair, and arms negotiations, we've been basically content to forget it all for the time being. But one part of the era has been stamped permanently in the Annals of Important History: 80s Movies.
From The Blues Brothers in 1980 to Steel Magnolias in '89, we saw some of the funniest, classiest, and most romantic movies to ever grace the screen. I know this is objective opinion here, but it tends to be the general consensus among all three of my friends. And my cat.

In 1985, John Cusack had been in only a few credited movies, despite having a string of smaller productions behind him. How and why he got the role of Lane Meyer in Better Off Dead is probably of no importance to us now. All we need to know is that he fit into the insecure teenager's character perfectly. No one could step in potato salad better, at least not in those awful red shorts. Neither could anyone be better at sticking Q-tips into every facial orifice. Not in 1985. Lane Meyer is a typical dweeby suburban teenager- hopelessly in love with a shallow girlfriend, desperate to blend in, and doomed to race the family station wagon against two crazy Japanese guys who learned their English from sports television.

When the shallow girlfriend dumps him for the captain of the ski team- blow dried blond hair, gleaming white teeth and all- Lane decides the only way to deal with the situation is to kill himself. He is as inept at doing this as he is at skiing the K-12 hill, which he sees as the only way to win his old girlfriend back. Meanwhile, we have his wonderful friend Charles De Mar to keep us company, snorting Jell-O and snow and rattling off euphemisms- ("Now you listen to me, Lane. I've been going to this high school for seven years- I'm no dummy!") as well as his completely absurd family. The things that come out of Mrs. Meyer's kitchen are enough to make one want to shudder (blue boiled bacon for one) and Lane's little brother Badger would probably make the FBI profiler's list nowadays.
While Lane's dad struggles to be relevant, finds himself humiliated in an anteater coat, and receives microwave meals for Christmas, we get to meet the delightful French foreign exchange student staying next door. She has been procured, it seems, for the sole purpose of romancing Ricky, the disgustingly plump momma's boy who slurps nasal spray and crochets.

Ricky's mother is also delightful, in a revolting sort of way, especially when Lane accidentally blows her up in another suicide attempt. We also have the lecherous, letter-dropping mailman, the vengeful newspaper boy, and a slavering pig-burger man.

I don't think I'm going to give any more tidbits away at the moment, other than this last: This movie is one of the quirkiest that I have ever seen, and I also believe it has graced society with ones of the best movie lines of all time. Lane has once again unsuccessfully attempted suicide, and in jumping off a bridge, lands in a garbage truck. Two black men, working construction nearby, witness this and sigh, shaking their heads. "It's sad times when folks gotta be throwin' away a perfectly good white boy like that."

If you haven't watched Better Off Dead, please go out and rent or buy it right now. Then watch it twice, because you'll be laughing so hard you'll miss half of the jokes the first time around.

And I don't have a cat.

Labels: 1980s, bad hair, Curtis Armstrong, favorite, great movies, John Cusack, movies, romantic comedy, skiing, suicide