“ナルニア暦1000年―― 《その国》は春を奪われ、 100年の冬に凍えていた…。”
第二次世界大戦下のイギリス。ペベンシー家の4人の兄妹-ピーター、スーザン、エドマンド、ルーシーは、ロンドンの空襲を逃れて田舎に住むカーク教授に預けられる。古めかしく広大な教授の屋敷は、子供たちにとって最高の探検場所。好奇心旺盛な末っ子のルーシーは、“かくれんぼ”をしているうちに、空き部屋で大きな古い衣装だんすをみつける。見えない力に導かれるかのように衣装だんすに入り、毛皮のコートを押しのけて奥に進むといつしかルーシーは雪に覆われた真夜中の森に立っていた。
製作費: $180,000,000 (270億円)
興行収入: $745,013,115 (1118億円)
推定収支: $565,013,115 (848億円)
※製作費・興行収入はTMDBのデータを参照しています。収支は(興行収入 - 製作費)で算出したFindKey独自の推定値であり、広告宣伝費や諸経費は含まれません (1ドル=150円換算)。
監督: アンドリュー・アダムソン
脚本: アンドリュー・アダムソン / Christopher Markus / Ann Peacock
制作: Philip Steuer / Perry Moore / マーク・ジョンソン
撮影監督: Donald McAlpine
制作会社: Walt Disney Pictures / Walden Media / C.S. Lewis Company
Long bloody title, but a great film no doubt. I had seen <em>'The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'</em> before but hadn't watched it for years and years, I remembered the vast majority though - it's a memorable film after all. There's a great battle scene in there, some fun characters and strong effects. It's a tad too long, but not by much. It has a nice charm to it also, as they set up Narnia excellently. The quartet of children are very well cast, all four of them suit their roles to a T. Georgie Henley is sweet as Lucy, while William Moseley and Anna Popplewell fulfil the roles of Peter and Susan comfortably. Edmund, meanwhile, is of course annoying, but Skandar Keynes does a good job portraying him. Elsewhere, Tilda Swinton and Liam Neeson are terrific casts as the White Witch and Aslan. Both do great, especially Swinton. James McAvoy, Ray Winstone, Michael Madsen and Rupert Everett are smart choices too. I've, as far as I'm aware, never seen the two sequels so very much look forward to seeing what they have in store for me. They'll do well to match this first film, that's for sure.
In my last review (which you can find on my Letterboxd), I said _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ was a "nearly perfect film." Well, I am here to say that with this viewing, to me, it is a perfect film. I used to always think this film was a sort of step below LOTR, and, while LOTR is indeed a masterpiece of cinema, I don't regard this film as lesser. The movie is just pure magic! Every aspect of the movie (minus the CGI – which doesn't really hold up [except for Aslan] but is still serviceable) is even better with age! And I find myself moved emotionally by more things this time than I ever have watching this film. The score by Harry Gregson-Williams is just phenomenal. Especially "The Battle" – that goes without saying. But this time, part of the magic and nostalgia I was struck by was the musical piece that sounds like it's a song. The one that plays while the train is leaving London. (I found out it's actually about halfway into the track "Evacuating London.") That magical song, combined with the great camera work by Donald M. McAlpine and the appearance of the movie title makes for feelings of peak nostalgia and magic for me. Also, this film has one of the best opening scenes of all time. When Netflix (finally) remakes the films, I don't know how they can top this opening. – In fact, that's another thing about this movie: There are so many things that I don't think any remake could top. Liam Neeson as Aslan, Tilda Swinton as Jadis, the White Witch, and James McAvoy as Tumnus. – Oh, and, though he's not in the book, the centaur, Oreius (played by Patrick Kake), is so cool! Can't top that. Also, the costuming is excellent – especially for the White Witch – and the gryphons are so cool! The sound design on their shriek gives me chills (in a good way). And I can't go without saying that this is also an emotional story because of what the story represents, the symbolism of the story. Edmund represents us – represents me, a sinner. I who have walked in rebellion against God, and who am by nature opposed to God. And as such, I deserve the wrath of God, punishment that He would be fully just to give me. But Aslan represents Jesus Christ. Like Aslan sacrificed himself for Edmund, dying the death he should have died, Jesus sacrificed Himself in our stead, taking upon Himself the wrath of God we deserved, so that “if [we] confess with [our] mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in [our] heart that God raised Him from the dead, [we] will be saved” (Romans 10:9), we “will not perish but have eternal life” (from John 3:16), and as a result of that faith, “we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (from Romans 5:1). Ephesians 2:1-10 > “[1] And you were dead in the trespasses and sins [2] in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— [3] among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. [4] But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, [5] even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— [6] and raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, [7] so that in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. [8] For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, [9] not a result of works, so that no one may boast. [10] For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”
CS Lewis certainly had one heck of an imagination and it is rarely better exemplified than in this lovely fantasy adventure. Four wartime siblings are evacuated from London to stay with the reclusive "Professor Kirke" (Jim Broadbent) in the relative safety of the English countryside. Once they get there, the housekeeper "Mrs. Macready" (Elizabeth Hawthorne) makes it quite clear that they are to be seen and not heard! Boredom sets in and thus a game of hide and seek seems sensible. "Lucy" takes refuge in an old wardrobe - a wardrobe that has a secret! Much to her astonishment, she finds herself in a snowy land with a single streetlamp and there meets "Mr. Tumnus" (James McAvoy) - a scarf-clad faun. She returns to her brothers and sister and after some convincing, they join her in the wardrobe and all discover the delights and dangers of "Narnia" meeting loads of new friends and a couple of not so nice wolves, too! This is the first of the adventures of the "Pevensie" children in this mysterious land where animals can talk and winter is perpetual under the control of the villainous "White Witch" (Tilda Swinton). They align with "Aslan" the all powerful lion (voiced by Liam Neeson) and have a battle royal to free the kingdom from her icy grip. The CGI isn't, to be honest, great. Indeed, some of the effects are a bit cheap and cheerful for 2005; but the story, settings and characterisations are great - as is Harry Gregson-Williams' eerie and gentle score.
Rewatching The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe reminded me why it’s such a timeless movie. It still gets me every time, especially the lullaby scene with Mr. Tumnus, played beautifully by James McAvoy, who is one of my favorite actors. Liam Neeson’s voice as Aslan is inspiring and adds so much gravitas to the character. But for me, the standout is Tilda Swinton as the White Witch. Her performance is chilling and commanding, making her one of the most memorable parts of the movie. The production is top-notch. The visuals are stunning, especially considering it was released in 2005, and they mostly hold up well even now. The costumes and set design are fantastic, capturing the magical and otherworldly feel of Narnia. The soundtrack is another highlight, adding emotional depth to key moments and making the experience even more immersive. Based on the beloved novel by C.S. Lewis, the film does a good job of sticking to the important plot points while making the story accessible to a new generation. Of course, no adaptation is perfect, but this one stands on its own as a great piece of fantasy storytelling. It’s not just a movie; it’s a journey into a world full of magic, courage, and redemption. This movie also feels like the perfect pick for the holiday season. It has that warmth and wonder that makes it ideal to watch with family at Christmas. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe remains a classic, and I can’t recommend it enough for anyone who wants to experience a bit of magic
The feeling of discovering a secret universe where winter seems eternal awakens that sense of pure wonder we usually lose in the daily grind. Revisiting this story years later made me realize that magic doesn't age when it's treated with the respect it deserves. And this adaptation manages to bring back exactly those butterflies in my stomach from when I used to believe that behind any old piece of furniture in the house, a massive mystery could be hiding. For me, what really gets me about this movie is how it's in no rush to get to the magic, choosing instead to anchor the fantasy in real-world trauma. That opening during the Blitz bombings in London, with the sirens howling and the kids being torn away from their mother, isn't just window dressing. It hits me hard, instantly putting a lump in my throat with a deep sense of urgency, fear, and family loss. When they finally make it to Narnia, I can't see the realm just as a lucky theme park find. It actually works as a physical and psychological refuge. And I think the irony the script builds is brilliant: they flee a world in flames only to parachute into another that's frozen and oppressed. It makes the journey feel like it has genuine weight, giving those kids space to process and overcome the horrors of a real war by facing a magical one. I always find myself admiring the visual mastery of the scene where Lucy crosses over between the real world and fantasy. To me, it's easily the most poetic moment in the whole film. I love how Adamson’s camera plays with our perspective and doesn't take the easy way out. There's no flashing neon tunnel or that cliché tractor beam of light sucking you in. The whole thing is slow, tactile, and full of textures. I can almost feel Lucy backing up, bumping into those heavy, mothball-scented fur coats that, out of nowhere, turn into rough pine branches. The visual clash of the mansion's dark, musty environment colliding with the silent vastness of the snow, lit only by a lone lamppost, brings me that exact same enchantment I felt reading the pages of the original book. As someone who holds C.S. Lewis's story very dear, it's a huge relief to see that the script didn't try to reinvent the wheel. It's common for Hollywood to take old tales and stuff them with cynical jokes to try and seem "cool" to a new generation, but here, the reverence really stands out. I feel like the essence of the fairy tale and the innocence of that era were preserved with incredible delicacy. The dialogue even carries a certain formality that fits the 1940s perfectly, and the story moves forward at its own episodic pace, unafraid of sounding old-fashioned. To me, this faithfulness didn't hold the movie back; it was actually the ticket to the film's emotional success. Casting a quartet of kids who could hold my attention for over two hours was a high-stakes gamble. But what makes me love this cast so much isn't some picture-perfect drama school performance, but rather the imperfections and natural vibe they bring to the screen. They bicker, compete for attention, and resent Peter's bossiness when he tries to play dad... they sound like siblings I actually know. And I think it's amazing that they don't just drop into the snow ready to slay monsters with giant swords. There's crying, there's wanting to go home, and there's absurd skepticism. Watching this slow transition from scared brats to confident monarchs is what keeps me glued to my seat. If we had to point out the true beating heart of this story, I wouldn't hesitate for a second: it's little Lucy. Georgie Henley's performance is one of the most precious things I've ever seen in fantasy cinema. I look at her and I simply believe what she's seeing. She doesn't have that fake veneer, you know? Those lines delivered on autopilot, sounding like a kid who just memorized a huge script. Georgie acts with her whole heart. When she cries clinging to Aslan's mane or laughs having tea with Mr. Tumnus, I'm forced to suspend any shred of disbelief I might have. The sheer wonder in her eyes makes me believe in the magic right alongside her. Skandar Keynes got handed the prickliest character of the bunch and delivered exactly what I wanted to see. Edmund is a kid eaten alive by a massive inferiority complex and unresolved anger. And the movie doesn't try to sugarcoat it to make him look cute. The petulance, the envy, and how easily he lies make him the perfect prey for the White Witch. But it's exactly because he messes up all the time that I find him the most complex and interesting human in the mix. His guilt hits me right in the gut. I ache for this boy's journey as he goes from a petty traitor to a terrified prisoner, ultimately finding the courage to seek redemption. It's an arc that gives the film a maturity that's sometimes missing in Peter's overly heroic moments. Every time I rewatch the movie, I feel like Tilda Swinton was born wrapped in ice specifically to play Jadis. She devours every scene she steps into. I love the fact that she didn't go for that standard fairy tale villain vibe of screaming and cackling hysterically. Her approach is different: a calm, almost aristocratic sadism. Her posture, her soft, venomous tone of voice while serving Turkish Delight to Edmund... that sends a real shiver down my spine. She gives me the feeling of being ice-cold inside and out. For me, Tilda raised the bar and became the absolute gold standard for any antagonist stepping onto a magical fantasy set. You can't ignore that translating all the heavy Christian subtext of C.S. Lewis was a massive minefield. The whole thing could have easily derailed into an unbearable church sermon right in the middle of the theater. But the way the direction weaves in the metaphors of the sacrifice on the Stone Table, the washing away of sins, and the resurrection feels wonderfully discreet and dignified to me. The pain of that central moment hits me through the characters' grief, without demanding that I become devout. I think it's fantastic how I can enjoy the movie whether I'm diving deep into the theological depth or just turning off my brain and watching archetypal heroes defeat evil in a well-crafted adventure. I see Andrew Adamson's work as a massive balancing act. He knows the whole family is in the living room, so he doses the darkness and the light very cleverly. He doesn't need to splatter blood on the screen to make me feel the gravity of a death, preferring to focus on the emotional blow the actors convey. And, to be honest, even if I feel a slight stumble in the pacing with a somewhat episodic feel in certain parts, the way Adamson delivers those cathartic moments makes up for everything. He has a genuine knack for pulling humanity out of the interactions between actors and CGI creatures, proving he had a solid, affectionate vision for this universe. The cinematography in this film works as a parallel storyteller for me. The color palette grabs me by the hand from the cramped, gray interior of the wardrobe right to that harsh white that seems to suffocate Narnia in the first act. And I think it's beautiful how the whole screen blossoms alongside Aslan's footsteps, flooding the theater with earthy tones and bright greens when spring finally explodes. The contrast of the Witch's jagged ice castle clashing with the vibrant, golden palette of the army tents helps me physically feel the emotional shift the script aims for. The sound, to me, is Narnia's oxygen. Harry Gregson-Williams's score completely wraps around me. He knew exactly how to use Celtic-inspired instruments and melodies that make me feel the mystery of those snowy forests right in the first few minutes. But when things hit the fan in the war scenes, man, those epic choirs throw me headfirst into the clash of swords. The sonic details of the ice cracking under the kids' feet in the river or the heavy roar echoing through the valleys grab me by the collar and amplify my experience a thousand times over, making the sound just as memorable as the visuals. Nowadays I'm so over those massive blockbusters that just fill the screen with green from edge to edge. That's why I deeply respect the decision to anchor this film in real locations, shooting in the mountains of New Zealand and Eastern Europe. Seeing the kids stepping on actual snow, interacting in a real environment, and only later adding talking griffins and beavers gives me a sense of organic weight. The computer isn't there to create a whole plastic world, but to extend what already existed physically, and that helps my immersion tremendously. The great lion deserves a massive honorable mention, because, visually speaking, he's what drops my jaw the most in the whole film. Back in 2005, rendering fur blowing in the wind and simulating feline muscles under the skin with such weight was no easy feat. But what really wins me over with Aslan is the eyes. The animators managed to put a human soul into those feline eyes, and Liam Neeson's guttural, austere, yet fatherly voice acting seals the deal (and I also have to applaud the late Paulo Goulart's version, which was the soundtrack of my childhood). He projects absolute authority without even having to try. I have to give a standing ovation to the heavy lifting done by Howard Berger and the entire practical effects team. It's so rewarding to watch a fantasy blockbuster and see that they got their hands dirty with heavy makeup and prosthetics. The minotaurs have this raw, rustic look that's genuinely terrifying. And the blending they did with James McAvoy as Tumnus is sublime; having actual fur applied to his skin and pairing that with digital goat legs creates a living, breathing creature. When I see that fur swaying and the sweat on the faces of the makeup-clad extras, I feel like that kingdom breathes and has a scent, stepping completely out of the purely synthetic realm. The costume design in this piece tells me almost as much as the characters' lines. I love noticing how the transition of their clothes dictates their coming of age. We start out feeling sorry for them in those lifeless, scratchy, grayish British school uniforms, and slowly we follow the switch to outfits that embrace them in the adventure. When the climax hits, seeing them dressed in those red armors, full of insignias and mythological symbols, feels like an unspoken coronation to me. They stopped being cornered kids and dressed as royalty with a visual presence that's fantastic to watch. The pacing of the story doesn't cave to Hollywood's bad habit of cramming in explosion scenes every ten minutes, and I think that's incredibly brave on the script's part. I easily get swept away in that entire first half dedicated to suspense, discovery, and getting intimately acquainted with who lives in Narnia. I like spending that time at Mr. and Mrs. Beaver's house understanding the politics and the prophecy, you know? It's exactly because the script took its sweet time in this part that, when the desperate escape kicks off in the second act and culminates in the battle, I find myself holding my breath for them. I already care about everyone there. The monumental clash of the troops on the open fields of Beruna never disappoints me. Every time I rewatch it, I'm blown away by the epic spectacle of that choreography. I love the fact that the director doesn't just throw a blob of monsters running at each other; there are tactics, there's an aerial view of the armies sizing each other up, and the impact of the front lines colliding is ridiculously vibrant. And even though they dialed back the blood to protect the kids' age rating, that doesn't strip away the sense of brutality and the weight of bodies flying. It's that explosive payoff that truly rewards all the patience we had up to that point in the narrative. I think the biggest trump card that makes me revisit The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe from time to time is the unique atmosphere it gives off. The film sails right past the annoying cynicism of so many modern adventures and lands softly in the authentic innocence of a bedtime story. The vibe shifts so smoothly from the snowy suspense to that comforting warmth of fables that it transports me almost instantly back to my own childhood. That feeling of good and evil being clearly defined brings me a powerful, nostalgic comfort. At the end of the day, The Chronicles of Narnia goes way beyond the forgotten kids' movie shelf at the video store. For me, it solidified itself as an epic about how families break and put themselves back together through forgiveness and growing up. And all of this is delivered in a wonderful fantasy box, with clashing swords, effects that still hold up, and a villain who gives me genuine chills to this day thanks to Tilda Swinton's terrifying talent. That majestic universe is still incredibly alive in my head. If your routine is suffocating you and the real world gets too heavy, my honest recommendation is that you turn off your notifications, make yourself a hot drink, and open the door to this wardrobe once again. The magic that made you believe in this world in the first place, I guarantee you, is still intact and waiting for you.
