The scope and breadth of the work is huge, but for all the money and effort and special effects wizardry that goes into creating these hulking reels of celluloid, the Narnian Chronicles still finds its strongest moments in the minutia of human feelings. The case has never been as clear as it is in Prince Caspian, the second instalment in the seven-book series from C.S. Lewis about four siblings who are mysteriously transported to a parallel world populated by centaurs, dwarves, dancing trees and a magical, talking lion.
Picking up a year after the first adventure ended, we're reunited with Peter (William Moseley), Susan (Anna Popplewell), Edward (Skandar Keynes) and Lucy (Georgie Henley) back in war-torn London. The siblings have finally adjusted to their post-wardrobe reality, and accepted their ordinary status after being revered as kings and queens in Narnia. Yet, just as they're about to step on the Tube, a strange wind blows. Someone has blown Susan's magic horn back in Narnia, pulling the Pevensie children back into the world where they are needed most.
Since their departure, everything in Narnia has changed. For starters, more than 1300 years have lapsed since the Pevensies ruled the magical kingdom - which is beginning to look a lot like 15th century Earth. A power-hungry Telmarine regent named Miraz (Sergio Castellitto) has usurped the throne destined for his nephew, Prince Caspian (Ben Barnes). The creatures of Narnia have been forced underground, and even Aslan the lion has been AWOL for centuries.
Thanks to his mentor Doctor Cornelius, Caspian escapes the murderous arrows of his uncle by fleeing into the woods, but in a moment of panic after he's knocked off his horse by a low-hanging branch, he blows the horn given to him by his teacher. It's Caspian's breath through the ivory instrument that brings the Pevensies back to Narnia, but the moment they revisit their old kingdom, the kids can sense the shift - especially young Lucy, who feels the absence of goodness but never gives up on Aslan, or the Narnian power to overcome evil.
The task for all concerned is straightforward: In order to save Narnia for generations to come, the Pevensies, the surviving Narnians and Caspian must unite against the advancing Telmarine army which seeks to destroy them once and for all. On screen, this boils down to a series of increasingly violent battle sequences which certainly have their place in this epic saga, but still pale in comparison to the smaller dramatic scenes that define the characters and their internal conflicts.
For instance, there's a wonderful pubescent boy rivalry between Caspian and Peter that director Andrew Adamson handles with locker room insight into the male ego. Both men feel they have something to prove, especially Peter, who feels ridiculed by Caspian for being so young. When each young man looks at each other, you can sense the tension - and the director does a great job cashing in on all that unspoken drama by weaving a thread of macho hubris into each element of the story.
From a cute little talking mouse desperate to be taken seriously as a fighting knight to the political showdown between Miraz and his manly peers, to the central issue of male succession to the throne, Adamson plays with a fireball of gender politics without getting burned thanks to the kid-friendly wrapper on the larger story and the presence of such strong female participants. Both Lucy and Susan emerge as incredibly potent young women who aren't hampered by ego in the same way as Peter and Caspian. The girls can see past the power struggles and see the emotional truth of the situation, which is central to the Narnian ideal.
Narnia is a world of the emancipated imagination, where anything is possible if you believe - and you have goodness in your heart. Thematically, this is the juicy core of Lewis's story and Adamson does a good job teasing it out through character-defining moments. Thanks to a consistent performance level from the entire cast - from the live actors to the voice talents - the film hits these dramatic marks without any signs of weakness. They aren't as big as the grand battle tableaux, but they're consistently more interesting, even if they don't account for the majority of screen time in a movie that often feels a little too focused on war instead of peace. To Adamson's credit, the battle scenes are well-done and nearly bloodless, but they're awfully repetitive and just a little disconcerting in a film aimed at kids.
Compared to the first film, Prince Caspian feels tighter and more dramatically complete thanks to the increased complexity of each character, but one can't help thinking the movie could have been even stronger with a little more feeling, and a lot less swordplay.
