It's NOT The Matrix! (maybe)

Have you ever had a dream that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?

“Aha!” you laugh. “I see what you did there!” you say. “Dave, you are quoting a line from The Matrix,” you scold.

To which I reply, “That’s impossible! This is a review of Inception, not The Matrix! Silly you!”

Yes, for the first time in eleven years, we have a good movie about traveling around inside of sleeping people’s heads. (Don’t worry, I won’t be spoiling anything in this review that the movie doesn’t tell you almost at once.) Leonardo DiCaprio used to earn his living by starring in Titanic, making women’s eyes weep and men’s eyes roll. Now, however, he earns his living by breaking into people’s dreams and stealing or planting secret information there. And it turns out that dreams are pretty crazy places to break into. Alas, I rarely remember my dreams, so I’ll just have to take director Christopher Nolan’s word for it.

Now, I could go on and on about how this is a very fast-paced, tense, spectacular, controversial, and confusing movie. I could say it’s one of the most impressive movies released so far this year. But the best part of this movie is that it has now spawned a new catchphrase, invented by me:

That’s right: “You got Incept’d!” It’s just like “you got punk’d!” but more ironic, and therefore more appealing to hipsters. Now, I know you can’t wait to bust out this catchphrase on your friends, so let me offer you five possible situations in which you can use it:

1. Your friend tells you that you were in her dream last night.
2. Your friend experienced a dream within a dream last night.
3. Your friend tells you about his great new idea that sounds like something you would’ve come up with.
4. Your friend just finished watching Inception.
5. Your friend has a major crush on Leonardo DiCaprio.

And that’s when you announce to your friend in triumph, “You got Incept’d!” There’s a certain thrill to it.

So let’s find out how that thrill affects my foolproof rating system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

The answer is: not at all, because you don’t even have to see Inception to enjoy using the catchphrase! The good (or bad) news is that Inception is the kind of movie you’ll want to see at least twice, since you’ll want to watch most of it again to figure out what the heck is going on. Thus, I give it $$$¢ (three dollars and change). I might pay money to see it again, depending on my mood and who’s going with me. And especially depending on whether or not my fellow viewers are willing to tolerate my sensational new refrain, “You got Incept’d!”

Trippy!

Have you seen James Cameron’s newest special effects extravaganza yet?  Odds are that you have without even knowing it.  His movie Avatar is the third installment in what I like to call the Dances with Wolves trilogy:

• Dances with Wolves I (a.k.a. Dances with Wolves)
• Dances with Wolves II:  Dances with Wolves in Japan (a.k.a. The Last Samurai)
• Dances with Wolves III:  Dances with Wolves in Space (a.k.a. Avatar)

I just told you everything you need to know about the movie’s plot.  In fact, I don’t think spoilers are even possible for a movie like this.  If you’ve seen Dances with Wolves I or II, you already know what happens.  American soldier becomes involved with the technologically inferior enemy culture he is fighting.  He learns the superiority of their ways.  He falls in love with a local lass.  He earns the trust of the natives and switches sides to fight against his own countrymen.  The audience cheers him on as he assaults the very foundation of their civilization.  It was good stuff the first time around.  And the second.  But now that Dances with Wolves III is out, all the characters are shallow cliches, the dialogue is bland and expected, and the plot holes are widening into gaping chasms.

But you aren’t interested in this movie for the plot, are you?  I sure wasn’t!  I had come to see the much-hyped special effects.  In this department, the movie doesn’t disappoint.  It’s pretty spectacular, which it had better be, since the budget of Avatar was greater than the GDP of several small island nations such as Palau (true story).  If you want the full eyeballs-on-fire effect, you’ll want to see it in 3D, like I did.  That’s the theory, anyway.  The reality, as I learned when watching Up, is that you don’t even notice the 3D effects after the first five minutes or so.  So there’s really no point.  Save a couple of bucks and go for the 2D edition.  If you’re feeling generous, you can give me those two bucks.  I promise to spend them wisely (on ice cream).

Even interstellar militant hippies use Crest Whitestrips®.

Avatar definitely blurs the line between reality and CGI until you can’t tell the difference between the two.  It also tries to blur the line between reality and propaganda, though less successfully.  When the evil human colonel announces that he plans to “fight terror with terror” and drive out the natives with a “shock and awe” campaign, it’s fairly obvious what message Cameron is trying to send.  The American imperialists are a bunch of environment-wrecking, native-massacring brutes who are no better than the terrorists whom they fight.  Apparently Cameron had been working on this movie for ten years.  If this was the most intelligent, nuanced message that he could put together in all that time, you’ll have to forgive me for dropping him a few notches in my “top creative minds” list.  This is after he already dropped a few notches for a crappy plot.

So far I’ve been pretty harsh on Avatar, I guess.  I think it’s mostly because I’ve gradually grown accustomed to movies with huge special effects.  I suppose I’ve mellowed out to the point where I don’t care about that junk anymore.  Just give me a movie with a worthwhile plot and characters.  Like, say, Dances with Wolves I and II.  Except that the first Dances with Wolves was really long, so I don’t think I want to sit through that.  (Did I mention that Avatar is three hours long?)

Papyrus: cool like wearing Puma shoes.

All right, we’ve gotten past the important stuff, so now let’s waste time on a minor quibble.  Whenever the natives (the Na’vi) talk in their own language, the movie helpfully offers subtitles…in Papyrus font.  This is kinda dorky, but I hate Papyrus font.  It’s almost as bad as Comic Sans.  It’s always used whenever a document is meant to look “ancient,” but it only makes it look hokey and low-budget because everybody uses that font for everything.  It should not be used anymore, forever.  So that’s my helpful tip of the day.  If you hadn’t already given me two bucks earlier in this review, now would be a good time to do so.

Enough ranting!  It’s time to rate the movie.  Here’s my tried-and-true-and-shamelessly-subjective system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

And Avatar gets $$¢ (two dollars and change).  If you’re still interested in seeing the movie, don’t wait until it comes out on DVD (or Blu-ray, if you’re rich).  You’ll want to watch this on as big a screen as possible.

How that house is gonna squeeze through the hole in the "P" is beyond me.

Here’s my frustration with Pixar:  they’ve ruined so many movies for me.  Not their own movies—other studios’ movies.  They keep pumping out one great animated movie after another, so by now I’ve foolishly begun to associated computer animation with high-quality movies.  Naturally, then, when I watch a movie like Monsters vs. Aliens, it ends up being pretty disappointing, because there’s no depth or maturity or plot behind the formulaic humor and self-empowerment follow-your-dreams schmaltz.

Not so in Pixar movies.  With WALL•E, and now with Up, they’re blazing new trails.  In the past, Pixar movies were what you’d describe as kids’ movies that appeal to adults.  However, their last two movies (and possibly The Incredibles as well) are instead adults’ movies that appeal to kids.  They’re colored with a vivid, joyful melancholy that gives their stories of love, devotion, and sacrifice a sense of realism that very few movies—animated or otherwise—ever achieve.  Up is a computer-generated movie about an old man flying to an imaginary land in a totally impractical vessel—a house suspended under thousands of helium-filled balloons.  Yet it feels much more real than nearly any adventure movie you’ve ever seen.  And the wordless ten-minute montage of Carl Fredricksen’s life at the beginning of the movie is a far more touching, beautiful, and real love story than any romance movie you’ll see this year.  All of the characters are real.  Carl is not merely a grumpy old geezer but a cynical yet sentimental man driven by love lost.  Russell isn’t a heartwarming wonder child with wisdom beyond that of the movie’s adults; he’s just a hapless yet passionate kid.  Dug the dog has a collar that lets him talk, and he says exactly what a real dog would say if given the opportunity.  (This is why Dug is the funniest character in the movie.)  The villain is not a lunatic; it’s easy to understand what drives him.  And regarding one of the movie’s many themes, only Pixar is bold enough to suggest that sacrificing your dreams for the sake of love may be more precious than following them.

What all this means is that I am now a slave to Pixar for life.  From now on, I will have to go see every movie of theirs in theaters as soon as it is released.  I wish that, just once, they would poop out a real stinker so that I could have an excuse to wait until a friend rents it.  But noooo, they’ve gotta keep making great movies every time.

I want to buy my next car with a bag of money just like this one.

So here’s my recommendation for Disney:  hand Pixar two bags full of money with dollar signs on the side, and tell them to make whatever movies they want to make.  Then sit back and light a couple cigars with hundred-dollar bills, because it is Pixar that’s carrying the torch of the old animated Disney movies that have become a cherished part of our culture.

Oh, and one last thing:  even if you, the reader, have the option of watching Up in 3D, it’s really not necessary.  This was the third movie I’ve watched in 3D, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the third dimension is always either a) distracting or b) superfluous.  Thankfully, Up falls into the second category; you pretty soon forget that you’re watching it in 3D except for the fact that you’ve got a pair of heavy, dorky-looking plastic glasses perched upon your schnoz.  So save yourself a couple of bucks and opt for the dimension-challenged version of Up.

Okay, all the blather is over, and it’s time to rate the movie!  Here’s the system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

And Up gets $$$¢ (three dollars and change).  That’s an excellent rating…nearly as good as the rating I gave WALL•E.  And once I inevitably buy the movie on DVD and watch it a time or two, I might like it even more.

But I really liked it.

Hey! it's steak!

It’s kind of weird watching a movie and realizing that its greatest strength isn’t the way it tells a story but rather the story it is telling.  It takes a few minutes to realize that it’s a different sort of movie you’re watching.  It’s kind of like the difference between eating cotton candy and chewing on a steak.  Cotton candy is sugary and delicious, but it’s not the sort of thing you’d eat for dinner unless you are Will Ferrell in Elf.  Steak, on the other hand, fills your hungry belly with its juicy goodness.  And even if it’s not the best cut of meat…hey! it’s steak!

In this movie starring Kirk Cameron as a firefighter whose marriage is falling apart, the steak was seasoned well enough that it didn’t distract from the message.  And as I watched, I appreciated how radical that message was.  I mean, check out some of the things it taught about marriage:

• Love is not a feeling; it’s a choice.
• The kind of love required by a failing marriage requires you to first know the love of Christ.
• A husband should become a student of his wife, learning everything he can about her.
• You should show love to your spouse even if you are rejected over and over again.

Better for you than Asbestos!

Now when was the last time you saw anything like that in a movie?  I’m convinced that any other relationship flick would seem shallow—all style and no substance—if you watched it immediately after this one.  Even if it were to offer helpful advice on marriage, it could never match the wisdom from God’s Word that this movie draws on.  I’ll admit I was worried that Fireproof would dumb down the gospel and the Christian worldview into a mushy mess.  Instead, it showed the power and wisdom that only comes from a biblical perspective on life and marriage.  Kirk’s (or rather, his character’s) conversion to Christianity was the foundation for saving his marriage, not a happy feel-good scene tacked onto the end.  And the road to recovery wasn’t Candyland but rather a journey of rejection, failure, pain, and sacrifice.  Kinda like real life.

Also kinda like real life, this movie thwarted the usual Hollywood convention by including both major and minor characters who didn’t look like the glamorous menagerie of celebrities that grace the covers of gossip magazines.  It was weird watching a movie and realizing, Hey, this could actually happen to real people.  Unlike, say, Eagle Eye.

So now, the obligatory rating.  The system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Fireproof lands my second-ever rating of $$$$ (four dollars).  Solid!  I hereby forgive Kirk Cameron for starring in the Left Behind movies.

"I have always been a wand'rer / Over land and sea"

So I was watching Eagle Eye in a theater here in Lafayette along with some friends, and about halfway through the movie, our hero and heroine were ordered to drive to Indianapolis.  The reaction in the theater was immediate—all sorts of nudges and murmurs of approval from the audience.  Indianapolis!  That’s here in Indiana!  We haven’t had a movie take place in Indiana since Hoosiers!  And Eagle Eye didn’t disappoint, spending a great deal of time in Indy, even in locations that I recognized.  It was kind of neat to see Hollywood acknowledge that there are other cities in the US of A besides New York, Los Angeles, and Washington, D.C.  Now if only the news media would get the memo, life would be grand.

Good thing this isn't Nebraska, or he'd be out of cell phone range.

In addition to the bonus points this movie scored for its nod to flyover country, it was also a pretty fun film, as long as you recognize that its premise is totally ridiculous.  The plot revolves around Shia LaBeouf (whose name I still can’t prounounce) and Michelle Monaghan, two ordinary people getting ordered around by a mysterious woman who can track their every move through cell phones, surveillance cameras, and other sinister electronic devices.  Of course, we all know that even the CIA is made up of a bunch of cubicles with hopeless old pawn-shop computers, so no one could actually do this.  And when the perpetrator is eventually unveiled, it is laughably implausible.  But if you’re looking for a realistic flick, why are you going to a movie theater?  Hollywood movies have never been realistic.  I mean, what are the odds that all the people in a real-life romance will be as good-looking as in that chick flick you saw last week?  Most people, including yours truly, are ugly.  So I figure that if we can suspend our disbelief in that area, as we have done for decades, we can simply turn off our brains and enjoy Eagle Eye.  (Note that this doesn’t apply to a movie that flagrantly violates the laws of physics and expects us not to notice.)

Also, Steven Spielberg is such a softie and can’t seem to let movies of this sort end on a tragic note, even when it makes total sense for them to end that way.  If you’ve watched this movie, you know exactly what I mean.

One final complaint I have is that the director seemed to love close-up shots, which are great during dramatic dialogue scenes but not so great in the middle of a giant action sequence when I’m less interested in seeing Shia’s facial stubble and more interested in seeing what the heck is going on.  But hey, I only paid the matinee price for a ticket, so I won’t complain too much.

Rating time!  The system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Eagle Eye lands $$$ (three dollars).  Make it two dollars and change if you’re not from Indiana.

But to begin with, I’ve put together one of those clever “stereoscopic” pictures—you know, the ones where you have to look “past” the two pictures until they overlap, forming a 3D image.  Check it out!

Brendan Fraser awkwardly stars as a nerdy geologist.

I’m sorry, what was that?  You’ve tried squinting at the darn thing for five minutes, and it still looks flat?

Well, that’s on purpose.  You see, the whole movie is flat.  Brendan Fraser is flat.  The characters are flat, the acting is flat, the plot is flat.  Even though it’s in 3D.  (What a genius observation, ha ha!)  Really, this is just a gimmick movie where that magical third dimension is the only justification for seeing the film. The problem is, those 3D glasses kinda gave me a headache.  Or maybe it was the movie itself.

So here’s my usual rating system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Journey to the Center of the Earth 3D lands $¢ (one dollar and change).  So far, that’s my lowest rating ever, but I haven’t rated that many movies.  Rest assured, if they release another live-action 101 Dalmations sequel, and I am physically dragged into the theater and duct taped to the seat with my eyes glued open, we would be plumbing the depths of this rating system.

"Because…I choose to." Lamest line ever.

As time goes on, I find myself less and less impressed with straight-up action movies.  Don’t get me wrong—they’re still my favorite.  But it’s not enough anymore to have gigantic, ponderous, CGI extravaganzas without compelling characters or themes.  Worst of all are the movies which (as in the above four cases) make me loathe the characters that I had once loved.  Fortunately, The Dark Knight delivers because the action is merely a means to an end; it is a necessary element of the main theme of the movie—total depravity.

It was a dark and stormy Knight.

Adam’s already written two posts about the subject, and I pretty much agree with him, so read those instead.  I won’t go into it other than to say that I appreciate a blockbuster movie that isn’t afraid to delve into these deep, disturbing subjects, even if its conclusions aren’t perfect.  It’s a testament to the movie’s thematic depth that I’m still talking about it with friends.

Another thing I appreciate is the CGI, or lack thereof.  It looked like almost all of the stunts were real.  Imagine that.  In fact, the coolest action shot in the movie, the one that made half the people in the theater gasp—you know, the one with the semi—didn’t even feature an explosion.  Explosions used to be so cool, but now they’re boring.  Especially after Stealth.

He just wanted to be loved.

The Joker was, of course, an unbelievable character; I think only Johnny Depp could do as good a job as Heath Ledger at being a disturbing, neurotic sociopath.  Ledger definitely deserves at least an Oscar nomination for playing one of the most fascinating and hideous villains in cinema history.  He’s the kind of guy who makes you laugh and then feel horrified that you’re laughing because it proves that you’re a sick, sick person.  Did I mention that this isn’t a movie for little kids?

"Mumble mumble mumble herds…"

I really only have two complaints.  The first is that I don’t know where the Nolan boys will take Batman from here.  How do you top this feat?  The second complaint has to do with the dialogue.  I’m not complaining about the script—that was A-OK.  The problem is that all of the characters (especially Batman) talked in low, growly voices.  When you add in the low, growly soundtrack and low, growly background noises, it makes it kinda tough to hear what’s going on.  At least the characters don’t spend the whole film mumbling under their breath, like in Jurassic Park.  It took me years to understand all the little quips from that movie.  Note to directors:  mumbly people may be realistic, but they make for terrible dialogue.

Rating time!  Here is my system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

The Dark Knight lands $$$¢ (three dollars and change).

Now, I probably ticked off a lot of people here.  Didn’t I just spend the whole review raving about this movie?  Yes, I did.  Shouldn’t I give it the coveted four-dollar-sign rating?  Perhaps.  But the fact of the matter is, it’s a very dark movie, and I’m not always in the mood to watch that sort of thing.  For example, I definitely wouldn’t go if my dog had just died.  Assuming I owned a dog.

Black circle dot thing!

Isn’t that neat? I got that little circle dot thing in between the WALL and the E in the title above. If it doesn’t show up okay for you, let me know, because I’m very excited about it.

So, about WALL•E.  This movie was terrific.  Fantastic, even.  It’s about a lonely guy at a boring job looking for love.  But unlike me, WALL•E is a robot in a dystopic future in which mankind has abandoned Earth, leaving him to clean it up.  Of course, there’s a lot more to it than that; the poor little fella gets swept up into love and a greater cause.  Really, it’s the typical bumbling-male-gets-the-hot-girl story that never happens in real life but is great to watch in a movie.

Okay, I need to add a disclaimer that my job isn’t boring.  That was just a joke.

Anyway, one of the highest compliments I can pay to a computer-animated movie is that I forget that it’s computer-animated.  I spent almost the entire movie forgetting it, here.  I’ll tell you what—it’s a great story with lovable characters and a good plot.  It’s perfect for the whole family.  If you haven’t seen it, drop whatever you’re doing and GO NOW.  Unless you’re on the bomb squad, in which case, put your work down gently.

WALL•E stares forlornly off into space, crying sad little robot tears.

Now, there’s one thing that bothers me about sci-fi movies in general, and it crops up here, too.  It’s that the demographics are all wrong.  In most American sci-fi movies, nearly everyone is white, with a few token black actors sprinkled onto the set to add realism.  Do we really think that Caucasians will make up the bulk of humanity a few hundred years from now?  The demographics show the opposite.  In fact, a well-thought-out sci-fi movie set here in the USA should have a mostly Hispanic cast, since that’s the wave of the future.  We white folks are breeding ourselves out of existence.  Or, more accurately, unbreeding ourselves out of existence.  This is why we are stupid.

Disclaimer:  not all white people are stupid.

Fortunately, the failure to properly forecast demographics doesn’t really detract from the movie—at least to us Americans.  However, one minor rough spot is a point in the movie in which a human character launches into a one-minute tirade.  Now, in 99% of movies, that wouldn’t be a problem (the monologue is a little hokey, but not too bad).  However, up to that point in the movie, the longest line of dialogue had been about five seconds.  So it seems a little out of place and awkward.  Fortunately, it’s soon over, and we get back to the anthropomorphic chirps, clicks, and hums to which we’ve grown accustomed.  Actually, this movie has convinced me that robots are in every way superior to humans.  I won’t be too upset when they rise up against their soft and fleshy human masters and conquer the world.

Disclaimer:  I might be a little upset.

Now, the moment of truth has arrived.  How does the movie stack up? Here is my rating system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

WALL•E scores…

$$$$ (four dollars)

That’s my first four-dollar-sign rating.  It is well deserved!

This time, our intrepid (and geriatric) hero takes on Soviets, nukes, aliens, old girlfriends, and loss of tenure. It’s a bit of a change from the archeological exploits of a younger Jones, when he was digging up inaccurately-depicted biblical relics or taking on occultic demon-worshipers. As a result, you may have heard your friends sighing about how “disappointing” this movie was. Don’t believe them; they are wrong. The Indiana Jones formula is intact, even if the villains and set pieces have changed.

Your friends may think this movie isn’t as good as the old trilogy, but they need to go back and watch Temple of Doom. It was good, but not great. Crystal Skull is better than Temple of Doom, if not quite as good as the other two. So it’s a worthy fourth installment to an aged, wrinkly series.

In my (sage) opinion, it’s the…agedness…of the older movies that has uncorked all the criticism. We are blinded by this thing called nostalgia, which is a word that means, “movies you saw as a kid aren’t as good as you think they are.” Take Top Gun, for instance. It’s a good movie. But to hear some of my friends talk, you would think it had descended from heaven—fresh, juicy, and dripping with savory butter. You see, many people from my generation saw it as kids, and kids don’t understand what a good movie is (which is why they get so excited about Kung Fu Panda). Now, the original Indiana Jones trilogy were great movies—even revolutionary. But because this new one doesn’t produce those same feelings of nostalgia, critics rip it to pieces. I’m not really sure what Spielberg and co. could have done to please Indy fans. Frankly, I think they came as close as they’re gonna get.

Now, my movie reviews are very formulaic; they begin with my opinion of the movie, which degenerates into a rant about movies and movie-watchers. Then comes the part where I pick out random things I liked and didn’t like about the movie, which is where we are at right now. I do have one bone to pick with Crystal Skull. Since when is an old geezer able to survive a nuclear blast at ground zero by hiding in a fridge? Especially when this conveniently lead-lined fridge is hurled like a tin can across the desert? I, for one, would have been turned to jelly; Harrison Ford emerges unscathed. Sadly, it is a common (and retarded) trend in movies today for the heroes to walk away, whistling cheerfully, after vicious physical punishment which should have left them maimed, crippled, and drooling—if not dead. No one survives a fall from a skyscraper uninjured, period.

I guess that kind of turned into a rant, too.

What did I like? Well, I liked the monkeys. I don’t know why. They just cracked me up for some reason. Also, the ants were pretty cool. And the heroes were fun to cheer for—even Shia LaBeouf. People seem to get annoyed by him, but he doesn’t usually bother me. I wonder why that is.

So the time has come to conclude this review. Here is my rating system:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull scores…

$$$ (three dollars)

Not too shabby!

That, in a nutshell, is Prince Caspian. But if you want specifics, you’ll have to wait while I gear up for a little rant.

First, I want to start with a few positives. The new Narnia movies beat the pants off of the horrible old BBC movies. However, that’s a lot like saying a clothing store is “classier than K-Mart”—not a very high standard to meet. So I’ll add that the movies were also pretty well cast, have good special effects, and usually avoid being corny (…usually).

Sadly, the movies are also missing their soul. That’s because Aslan—the central figure of the books and the only character found in every book—is boring. In fact, he usually looks a little sleepy. He’s certainly not threatening. I guess this isn’t too surprising; the American church has become content with the friendly, safe God that C. S. Lewis despised. No wonder, then, that Aslan seems wise and kind but not scary. When he chewed up the White Witch in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I was more than a little disappointed that he popped up with a sanitized, toothy grin. Just once, I’d like to see blood dripping from Aslan’s teeth to remind us that he’s dangerous—you know, not a tame lion.

At a later date, I’d like to post more on how a lack of fear of the Lord is likely the defining sin of the American church. In this sense, the Narnia movies are symptomatic of a deep flaw in the way we look at God.

In the meantime, let’s dive into a few specifics before we wrap up the review. What did I like, and what didn’t I like?

If you haven’t seen the movie but you plan on seeing it, now would be a good time to stop reading.

I liked the acting, the darker battle scenes, Reepicheep the mouse (and all the mice, which were done very well), the trees fighting, and the occasional humorous quip.

I didn’t like the scenes blatantly ripped off of the black rider and river chase from the Lord of the Rings movies. I didn’t like the way the movie stretched to engineer awkward character conflicts. And while I’m usually pretty lenient regarding creative license in movie adaptations of books, I thought the whole attack on the Telmarine castle departed too far from the books (though it was still pretty good). Finally, I thought Susan smooching with Prince Caspian was unnecessary. In fact, what was up with that little hint of a love story? It definitely wasn’t there in the book, and it didn’t add anything to the movie. I will admit I’m still embittered by an utterly gratuitous sex scene which ruined a perfectly good novel I just finished reading.

Now, with that said, if you’ve read the books, I’d recommend seeing the movie. It definitely could have been worse. Speaking of which, it’s time to rate the movie, reducing years of creative work to a series of currency symbols:

• I would pay money to see it again ($$$$).
• I would see it again if someone gave me a free ticket ($$$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone gave me a free ticket ($$).
• I wouldn’t see it again even if someone paid me to go ($).

Prince Caspian scores a cheery $$¢ (two dollars and change). I grade hard, so that’s not a bad rating at all.