Lucy and Peter, the eldest, are the more virtuous, while Edmund and Susan have darker, more complicated personalities (as well as fuller lips). Edmund has a penchant for dishonesty and a weakness for sweets, which both make him susceptible to the chilly lure of the White Witch (a terri-fying Tilda Swinton), whose rule has turned Narnia into a land of perpetual winter, where fauns are tortured and turned to stone, and a secret police force of wolves harshly deals with rebels and traitors.
Narnia's onscreen incarnation is credible enough. Talking-animal technology has made impressive strides lately, and most of the minotaurs, foxes and other creatures share the screen comfortably with the humans. Aslan, the noble lion who commands the fight against the White Witch, shows up late, looks fabulous and speaks in the mellow voice of Alfred Kinsey -- that is, of Liam Neeson. The homey, chattering beavers, who provide comic byplay as well as a picture of shopkeeper steadfastness, are voiced by Ray Winstone and Dawn French. As the Pevensie children journey deeper into Narnia, the movie's scope widens and its dramatic intensity grows, a transition from intimacy to grandeur that is beautifully handled, without too many dead spots or digressions.
Parents should take note: the battle scenes, though bloodless, are more brutal than a PG rating in the US would usually permit, and the death of Aslan may prove overwhelming to younger children. But the somber, scary aspects of the story are inseparable from its magic, which in the end may work only indirectly on adults.
For me, the best moments in the film take place in the wardrobe itself, which serves as a portal between England and Narnia. When the children pass through it for the first time, I felt a welcome tremor of apprehension and anticipation as the wooden floor turned into snowy ground and fur coats gave way to fir trees. The next two hours might not have quite delivered on that initial promise of wonder -- we grown-ups, being heavy, are not so easily swept away by visual tricks -- except when I looked away from the screen at the faces of breathless and wide-eyed children, my own among them, for whom the whole experience was new, strange, disturbing and delightful.



