With The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe motion picture releasing in theaters this Christmas — as well as Focus on the Family’s Radio Theatre production available in stores everywhere — Breakaway helps you find the deeper meaning of the plot, characters and symbolism of this literary masterpiece. In the pages that follow, we reveal insights into the life of C.S. Lewis, take you behind the scenes in the making of the radio drama and offer a sneak peek at the movie.
Peter was panting and blowing as hard as the others by the time they emerged from the shadow of the trees and stepped into the green open space at the top of the hill. He stopped, gulped the air and cast his eyes around on the scene that lay spread out before them.
On three sides, the dark green forest stretched away downhill into hazy purple distances. Straight ahead and far off to the east something sparkled and danced on the sunlit horizon: the sea. In the center of the grassy hilltop stood an object of dreadful appearance: a great slab of gray stone, supported by four upright stone pillars and engraved all over with swirls and whorls and strange, angular lines. The Stone Table.
Off to one side of the clearing a tall, yellow, silken pavilion flashed in the sunlight. High into the clear blue air it raised its fluttering pennon, a banner bearing the device of a rampant red lion. In front of the pavilion Peter saw the most peculiar assembly of creatures he had ever laid eyes on: fauns and nymphs and centaurs and Talking Beasts. And in the middle of that crowd, radiant as the sun, silent and terrible as the Stone Table itself, sat the most remarkable figure of all, a huge, dark-maned, honey-colored lion. Peter recognized him at once: Aslan — King of the wood, son of the great Emperor-Over-Sea.
“Go on,” whispered Mr. Beaver, nudging him. “He’s waiting!”
But Peter was trembling like a leaf in the wind. He was remembering what the Beavers had said in answer to their questions about Aslan: “Safe? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.”
Susan was tugging at his sleeve. “Go ahead,” she hissed. “You’re the eldest!”
Peter bit his lip and swallowed hard. He drew his sword and raised it to the salute. “Come on,” he said to the others. Slowly they advanced.
There was a light in the great beast’s eyes like the light of a flame. Peter saw him lift his massy head and gaze upon them as they approached, shaking sparks of sunlight from the heavy curls of his mane.
“Welcome, Peter, Son of Adam,” said the lion at last in a deep, rich and reassuring voice. “Welcome, Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve.”
The knot in Peter’s stomach relaxed. He looked at his sisters and smiled. It’s going to be all right, he told himself.1
• • •
Not safe, but good. That’s what Peter and his friends discover about Aslan, the great talking lion in “The Chronicles of Narnia.” In another tale, Aslan offers life-changing wisdom as the band of young adventurers sets off on a great quest.
“Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters.”2
The majestic lion’s words leap from the pages to reveal timeless truths in our own world as well. This, of course, is precisely the intent of the books’ author, C.S. Lewis.
• • •
Imagine Lewis hard at work in his Oxford, England, study. . . .
The signs, he ponders as he sips from a teacup and scribbles the dialogue for his next Narnian tale, The Silver Chair.
Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters.
Aslan’s words, in a very real sense, are the essence of Lewis’ soul. The story he is telling carries a deeper, eternal message — one we all long to hear; one we’re actually all helping to create with our lives. The signs he describes point to the ultimate truth: the gospel of Jesus Christ. Aslan is a symbol as well, and much more than just the king of Narnia — he is symbolic of the King of kings.
“Supposing,” Lewis asks himself, reflecting on the nature of God, the sufferings of Christ and other fundamental Christian truths, “that by casting all these things into an imaginary world, stripping them of their stained-glass and Sunday school associations, one could make them for the first time appear in their real potency. . . .”3
And so Lewis sets out to do just that in the land of Narnia. Many years in the future (October 1963 to be exact), long after the Narnia stories have been published, he writes to a young reader who catches the deeper meaning of Aslan’s words.
If you continue to love Jesus, nothing much can go wrong with you, and I hope you may always do so. I’m so thankful that you realized the “hidden story” in the Narnian books. It is odd, children nearly always do, grownups hardly ever.
—Jim Ware and Michael Ross
ASLAN IS ON THE MOVE!
In 1997 I flew to London with the rest of our Focus on the Family Radio Theatre team for one of dozens of recording sessions with some of the world’s premier voice talent actors. Months earlier, we had obtained permission from the C.S. Lewis Estate to adapt the seven “The Chronicles of Narnia” stories for radio. We had the privilege of working with Douglas Gresham, Lewis’ stepson, who introduces each story with a personal anecdote about his experience growing up with the creator of Narnia. Academy Award-winning actor Paul Scofield plays our storyteller, while film and stage star David Suchet lends his voice to Aslan. In all, dozens of world-class actors entered the studio to participate in what has become the definitive audio version of the series.
Despite more than 10 years of experience producing Adventures in Odyssey and a Peabody Award-winning dramatization of the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the team had no idea just how challenging this undertaking would become. After all, how does one create convincing audio effects for another world? We were committed to cutting-edge sound design and music scoring, so Dave Arnold and Mark Drury, the project’s producers, spent hundreds of hours creating sounds that would carry the imagination on a journey into the wood between the worlds, where you hear the White Witch’s sledge plowing through a snow-covered Narnia, the seafaring adventures of Caspian and Reepicheep on the Dawn Treader, and Shift the ape’s bloodcurdling encounter with Tash in The Last Battle.
At times, they used surprisingly simple props, such as huge lion feet slippers to create the sound of Aslan running across a field. On other occasions, they used more authentic equipment: the armor and swords necessary for the battle scenes. By the time I sat in playback to hear the final production, they had pulled off effects nothing short of stunning to the trained ear. Add a moving original score by John Campbell and, presto, you’ve got an amazing listening experience.
In the end, Focus on the Family invested five years and more than $1 million creating what may be the most ambitious radio dramatization ever produced. Why did we do it? Because we believe every child of every age should experience the magic and wonder of Lewis’ world — and worldview.
Awakenings
C.S. Lewis (Jack to his friends) is known today as the Oxford Don who became a great apologist for the Christian faith. But it was not always so. In fact, he went to Oxford as a skeptic, seeing the Christian gospel as just another myth bringing comfort to the weak-minded, offering little to the more sophisticated intellect.
What made the change in Lewis? In a word, fantasy. It’s no stretch to say that Lewis’ faith journey began as a result of reading stories dripping with Christian truth, awakening within him a desire for something he didn’t possess. Like the wonderful aroma of home-baked cookies invading his nostrils, these stories gave Jack a whiff of joy, making him hungry for the full reality of its source.
In later life, Lewis would credit the author of those stories, 19th century minister George MacDonald, with having influenced virtually every word he ever wrote — including the Narnia tales. It began with Phantastes, a dreamlike tale in which a boy wishes to visit fairy country. He awakes the next morning in an enchanted wood where he encounters profound happiness mixed with perilous adventure, including death and rebirth of sorts.
At first, Lewis didn’t recognize the story or the desire it stirred in him to find God. Only later, after having found the aroma’s source, did Lewis realize what had occurred. Lewis said he crossed a great frontier by reading Phantastes that placed him on a quest for joy. A pursuit that would eventually find its source in the same God of Christianity he had abandoned in childhood. And so, thanks to the imagination of George MacDonald, C.S. Lewis found his way home — and was met by a plate of warm cookies.
I had a similar experience while sitting in that London recording studio. With my eyes closed, I listened to voices from behind the glass as my mind entered the drama. Each encounter with the great lion Aslan brought a shiver down my spine and a lump to my throat. It was like encountering something — no, someone -- more frightening yet more comforting than any I had ever met before. I found myself moved in ways decades of church attendance and religious instruction had never accomplished. I was catching a whiff of something much more joyous than I knew.
Months later, my 9-year-old son got his own shivers. Our family was riding in the car listening to the final production of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Not a word was spoken as we endured the dreadful scene of Aslan’s death on the Stone Table. A deep sadness rested upon Shaun as he absorbed the injustice and loss. But then, moments later, he was overwhelmed with celebration as he discovered that Aslan was alive again. The gloom of death overtaken by the delight of resurrection, Shaun could not contain his excitement. “That’s just like Jesus!” he screamed from the backseat.
Like most kids raised in Sunday school, Shaun had heard the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection dozens of times. It had become routine, expected, perhaps even boring. But through a fantasy tale that had none of what Lewis called “stained glass and Sunday school associations,” Shaun was caught off guard — surprised by the most wonderful and potent truth of Christian faith. The effect on his heart, like my own sitting in that studio, was a whiff of true delight. We entered into the experience of the gospel rather than merely exploring its tenets. And along the way, we “crossed a great frontier” that awakened a new, more vibrant faith.
The Movie
In January, I visited the Disney studios for a behind-the-scenes look at the Walden Media film adaptation of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Along with other media, ministry and church representatives — I was hoping Hollywood would handle Lewis’ beloved stories with the kind of respect and artistic excellence director Peter Jackson demonstrated in his adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s writings. Knowing how hard we worked to get it right for radio, I was eager to find out what the inevitable scene selection process might do to the film version.
They showed us press materials, explained how they were handling certain special effects such as the talking Mr. Beaver, and previewed the film trailer — all intended to generate the typical excitement about any pending movie release. The sneak peek satisfied one concern: This was NOT going to be a low-budget production. In fact, the same special-effects team that produced a believable Middle Earth in Peter Jackson’s “The Lord of the Rings” movies was working on the creatures and lands of Narnia.
We had an opportunity to hear from film director Andrew Adamson. I must admit, I was skeptical at first. After all, the most prominent credit on his resume had been Shrek, a clever film, but one designed to deconstruct classic fairy tales rather than honor them. Might this guy also gut the meaning and wonder from Lewis’ magical world? Andrew explained that for years he had been approached repeatedly about the possibility of working on a Narnia movie, but he had refused because he loved the “Narnia” books as a child and didn’t want anyone messing them up. But when Walden Media approached him with a script that showed proper reverence for Lewis’ creative work, Adamson signed on as director. I was heartened to learn they had hired a Lewis fan to direct the big screen debut of “The Chronicles.”
So far, so good: a big budget and a solid director. But the biggest question of all remained. Would they include the pivotal Stone Table scene? After all, the central theme of the story — the one that caused my son Shaun to leap from his seat in excitement over the parallel to Jesus Christ — depended upon including this scene.
It would be easy for Disney to succumb to the temptation to take creative license and alter the story like they had done on countless fairy tales. Anyone who has read the original Brothers Grimm knows that the animated versions of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White tell very different tales than the traditional versions. Besides, in this instance there would certainly be criticism over Lewis’ overt Christian themes.
No matter how well produced or how the director felt about Lewis, if the Stone Table and resurrection were removed, the film would gut the author’s worldview. Millions of moviegoers would see a cute, perhaps even exciting story on screen. But they would not see the most important and dramatically compelling parts.
The good news is that the president of Walden Media himself, Michael Flaherty, assured me that the Stone Table and resurrection scenes are included in a manner consistent with Lewis’ intent. (What many do not realize is that Walden Media has creative control over the Narnia film. Disney is the distribution partner in a model similar to their arrangement with Pixar Animation Studios.) As a passionate Christian who loves the writings of C.S. Lewis, Michael is also excited about a number of other central ideas included in the film that he believes will pleasantly surprise viewers — such as a not-so-hidden inference to Lewis’ famous “Lord, liar or lunatic” argument.
I was pleased to learn that Michael has enjoyed the Focus on the Family Radio Theatre version of the “Narnia” tales with his own children, and hopes others will do so in anticipation of seeing The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe on the big screen.
So, as we enter the winter months ahead, be glad because, in the immortal words of Mr. Beaver, Aslan is on the move! 
--by Kurt Bruner
1. Excerpted with permission from “Not Safe But Good,” Finding God in the Land of Narnia, SaltRiver Books, Tyndale House Publishers, © 2005 by Kurt Bruner and Jim Ware. 2. C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair, New York: Harper Collins, 1953, p. 27. 3. “Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What’s to Be Said,” in Of Other Worlds, ed. Walter Hooper, New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1966. 4. C.S. Lewis, “Letter to Ruth Broady,” dated Oct. 26, 1963, in Letters to Children, ed. Lyle Dorsett, New York: Macmillan, 1985, p. 111.
