The Golden Compass
Phillip Pullman’s excellent trilogy of novels captured my readership and interest (thank you, MT!) more than the Lord of the Rings trilogy. For those who have read them, the film version should resemble the truncated screen version of the Rings books, focusing on the primary good versus evil plot line, and dispensing with valuable, interesting, but extraneous side plots. It has enough complexity to communicate with its metaphysics and fantastic journeys without getting mired down. This gorgeous, sumptuous adaptation fails miserably in bringing Pullman’s books to new audiences. Production designer Dennis Gassner is still, indeed, the man.
My friend wisely noted that of late, we have been spoiled by well-crafted and genuinely epic adaptations of our favorite fantasy (and other) novels. The 1980’s are well and truly over. So we have forgotten how hard it must be. The closest cinematic analog I can think of is 1985’s Dune: a robustly complex novel with a zillion players, agendas, biologies, cultures. DeLaurentiis’ Dune was also beautifully, extravagantly visualized, as is Compass. But even Dune managed to retain the important plot occurrences even as it bewildered with kooky nods to the crazy prophecy stuff.
I can fault no performance, no art department craftsman, no composer, nor the author for the choppy, boring mess we witnessed. Dakota Blue Fanning is indeed a tremendous find to play Lyra. The CGI daemons (animal-shaped expressions of each human soul) looked very, very good, and the sets and costumes and props were to die for. The alethiometer alone was delicious.
My companions remained purposefully ignorant of the source material, which helped confirm what I already suspected: this movie either had two hours cut from it or else it was written by a non-reader only for those who already know what’s happening. (See also: Order of the Phoenix.) Events occurred off screen and then demanded to be taken as read when revealed afterward. It’s like staging the nativity scene but skipping the birth and going straight from “go sleep in the stables” to “have some myrrh.” The editing just plain felt wrong, too, in a way that added unease where it could otherwise just be annoying.
Granted, there are some complex metaphysical and philosophical issues in this work; in a book, they can be discussed at length. In a world where they are taken for granted and there is no naïve character to explain things to, it becomes a complex monologue of awkward “as you know” lecturing. I don’t envy the screenwriter this most difficult task. But be warned, aspiring future adapters: if this first book was hard to get across, the second two are way more impossible.
Perhaps out of fear that no sequel will be made, someone made the terrible decision to reveal important information far too soon, and cram in loads of unneeded information to throw us off the scent. Cool as the bear fight is (and important to that side plot) the film would have been better served following the tale of the alethiometer and the importance of daemons.
The Catholic Church has had its panties in a wad over the “pro atheism” that is a hallmark of Pullman’s work. They can sleep soundly knowing that no child will seek to learn more about this book based on this film. Like Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame, any sense of religiosity has been expunged from the Magisterium until it, frankly, has no balls. If the key players weren’t Derek Jacobi, Christopher Lee, and Simon McBurney, we probably wouldn’t know until close to the end that the Magisterium is even threatening in any way.
For the record, Pullman decries anti-intellectualism and pro-ignorance for purposes of control and power more than he does the act of faith. The bad guys’ crimes are human spirit crushing. If the Church sees themselves in that, it’s not for me to say. (Maybe they did read the 2nd two books) But the Golden Compass film does not reckon atheism as its true north, even in this sterilized morass. Rent it if you must, but I say wait for HBO to bring it to your home.
MPAA Rating PG-13
Release date 12/7/07
Time in minutes 113
Director Chris Weitz
Studio New Line Pictures
