THE GOLDEN COMPASS
Reviewed by Sam Hatch
If controversy is indeed a portent of commercial success, this silver screen adaptation of Philip Pullman's much-discussed book Northern Lights could be in for a great opening weekend. The pre-release furor over this film stems from the fact that its original author is a devout atheist who has often mentioned that he wishes to use his writing to subvert Christianity. His anti-church trilogy (called His Dark Materials in a nod to Milton's Paradise Lost) is the stuff of legend over in England. On these shores, it's the stuff of “Hey! That looks like a minor Harry Potter rip-off that might shut up my kid for an hour or two!”
Organized religion wants you to believe that if this film fails, it will be because of their extensive boycotting of its release. They like to take credit for the box office success of that last hot-button 'gotta see it' film, Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. More probable is that Passion's success was largely driven by that same 'must see' status, for Christians, Satanists and Atheists alike. One must wonder why these powerful organizations weren't able to muster a sweeping presence when the film was re-released a year later. The most likely truth is that if The Golden Compass falters, it will be because it failed to convince the public that it had something to offer that hadn't already been delivered by Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia.
The books are most often compared to that beloved C.S. Lewis children's classic, and have even been billed as the “Anti-Narnia”. Both adventures are spurred on by an instance of a young girl hiding in a wardrobe, and they're both populated with talking animals. Here the creatures are called daemons, and are essentially a spin on the concept of the familiar. The adults' daemons each resemble one particular animal, while pre-pubescent kids have ones that regularly morph into numerous different creatures as their mood changes. They're also a manifestation of their human host's soul, and the bewildering opening narration safely points out that this is a different world, unlike our own - where souls are kept within.
On the whole this eggshell-walking tactic by director Chris Weitz (About a Boy) lessens the anti-Christian sentimentality of the original (and if Pullman doesn't believe, why does he waste so much time complaining about something that doesn't exist?) until it's barely noticeable. This parallel universe is still dominated by the Magisterium, which was originally a thinly veiled jab at the Catholic Church. It's still present and brimming with malicious calculation in the film, but the references to the entity as a church are missing. Kids will probably see it more as a replica of the Ministry of Magic from the Potter series.
If you're a super atheist disappointed by this tactful retooling, perhaps you can still find enjoyment in the film's smashing visuals. Weitz has been a director of comedies, but a star-studded fantasy epic with an overload of visual effects was something I didn't expect him to tackle. He too was well aware of this seemingly ill-fitting match, and crumbled under the pressure after shadowing Peter Jackson during the creation of King Kong. Weitz subsequently bailed on the film, only to return much later after replacement director Anand Tucker butted heads with purse-masters New Line Cinema.
Perhaps he was worried for nothing, since the film visually trumps the recent Narnia film, which is flat and dull by comparison. The CGI animals are decently rendered, but the real draw here is the production design. The bizarre-yet-familiar realms of this universe, coupled with Weitz' eye for extreme angles and warped lenses result in an intoxicating concoction that recalls the style of both Terry Gilliam and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. There are even some major story similarities to Jeunet's masterpiece The City of Lost Children, especially within the element of the “Gobblers”, a very real group of boogeymen who abduct children from the streets.
The lost kids in this film are orphans who are disappearing under mysterious circumstances. Many of them are friends with Lyra Belacqua (newcomer Dakota Blue Richards), who while having no parents is still lucky enough to reside at the esteemed Jordan College. She still has contact with her uncle (Lord Asriel), as played briefly by Daniel Craig. He arrives early on to spill the details of some sort of rift that can allow people to travel into other dimensions (and one can guess this will mean ours eventually). This is somehow managed through the magical force of 'dust', and all of this background gobbledygook is unfortunately handled a bit sloppily, and recalls the information overload regarding elements such as 'the spice' in David Lynch's version of Dune. Even Christopher Lee, master of dense mythological fantasies, can't make urgent talk about the corruptive nature of 'dust' sound anything other than silly.
What does convince is the acting, from the old guard to the new. Richards is great as the petulant Lyra, a young girl brimming with confidence and spirit. She's good enough to give Nicole Kidman a run for her money when the latter actress appears as a cold and mysterious benefactor named Marisa Coulter (no relation to that other ice queen). Coulter appears to have something up her sleeve, but Lyra bites at her promise of traveling north to the regions past Norway where her uncle routinely does research and pals around with armored polar bears. Before leaving she is introduced to an alethiometer, a truth-telling device that resembles a directional compass (hence the American retitling of the book from Northern Lights).
The alethiometer is a device that many covet, though almost none can use. Typical of this kind of storytelling, there is mention of Lyra being a person of some interest, and perhaps even 'the one'. Just like the story of Paul Muad'Dib in Dune, there's a group of female witches watching the development of this character in the hopes that she'll fulfill some sort of juicy prophecy. In the meantime, Lyra grows tired of the oppressive demeanor in Mrs. Coulter's home, and quickly escapes on a quest to save her orphan friends from something nefarious in the snowy wastelands of Svalbard.
She encounters a host of benefactors, including a group of gypsies known as the Gyptians, an exiled Ice Bear named Iorek Byrnison (voiced by Ian McKellan after New Line objected to original voice talent Nonso Anozie's lack of “Ring-ish” credentials) and the welcome sight of Sam Elliott as the wild-west Texan 'aeronaut' Lee Scoresby. Those expecting a ton of footage involving Casino Royale costars Daniel Craig and Eva Green will likely be disappointed, since their characters remain in the background throughout much of the film.
The rest of the story is mainly concerned with restoring Iorek's good name in his homeland, and decoding the mystery of the abducted children. The eventual revelation of what's going on is pretty freaky, and there's some intense imagery of kids undergoing a form of torture at one point. There's also a fierce war scene and another battle involving an ice bear's severed lower jaw, so don't bring the very young ‘uns. For the adults the most disconcerting element might just be the ‘to be continued' nature of the finale, which assumes that the series will go on to be a trilogy (a la Rings), even though the reality of that deal will be dependent upon this film's box office earnings.
My biggest disappointment was that while the world of the film seemed fully realized with no small amount of talent, the production felt rushed as a whole. The over-packed narration could have used some room to breathe, instead of forcing an entire mythology down our gullets in thirty seconds. On several occasions the thought occurred to me that this would have been even better as a cable mini-series (though hopefully with the same production values).
Segments such as the one with Lyra in Mrs. Coulter's house should have been a full hour-long episode. There's also some plotting involving Asriel that could have used some real screentime, for in the film a complex situation of which he is part is mentioned offhand by another character, accompanied by a brief visual sting. While the audience certainly connects to a few key characters, there's a distinct lack of an overall sense of urgency and familiarity with the large cast – as there was at the finale of The Fellowship of the Ring.
While I don't think the controversy will kill it, there's still the question of how much it can help it if audiences don't get over the fact that a sky full of flying witches here resembles elements they've already seen ten times over in the Potter films. Which would be a shame, since it's a visually rich effort that trumps the pedestrian imagery found in Andrew Adamson's The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. There's also a very good score by Alexandre Desplat (Lust, Caution) and an end credits tune by college radio favorite Kate Bush. Here's hoping Chris Weitz doesn't regret moving on from the comedy genre. I for one look forward to what he does next if the series continues.