“The Chronicles of Narnia” is particularly beloved among the works of the Inklings, with it being required reading in elementary school and the sheer wealth of wonder spilling from Lewis’ pen. When a director announces a new film adaptation, it’s no little shock — especially when they decide Aslan shouldn’t be played by a man, or that Narnia should resemble a Dio album.
Greta Gerwig announced that her vision of “Narnia” was to include an Aslan inspired by David Bowie and voiced by Meryl Streep. She justified her choice to Empire Magazine, and said, “I wanted someone who was profound but not pretentious, who had gravitas but not morose self seriousness — and also to be one of the greatest actors to do it. That list isn’t a long one.”
On the surface, this is typical of Gerwig’s productions and a natural facet of the form. The best adaptations tinker with their source material in such a way as to respect the essence while exploring it in new contexts.
Gerwig’s decisions, however, cross a line, not merely of the representation of Aslan, but also in her entire visualization of “Narnia.” Her casting of Aslan is but a symptom of a deeper disorder in her paradigm which not only disables her art but also abuses its source.
“The Chronicles of Narnia” is more than a modern fairytale or assortment of symbols, it is a translation of the true myths which inspired Lewis out of atheism. Lewis intended for the true and good to reunite with the beautiful in a fantastic array to draw our eyes to wonder before us.
The casting of Meryl Streep as Lewis’ leonine Christ — while provocative as much good art is — reduces the Lion of Judah to a mere mask, a hollow canvas for an artist to fill in rather than a mystery to submit to, or a person to love. Worse, however, is Gerwig’s interpretation of the source material through the lens of rock and roll— denuding a live story by turning it into a hyperbolic harpoon to get a point across.
“Narnia” was never meant to be a vehicle, even as it ferries us into the cosmos of myth and bears truth upon its paperback. Nor is it set dressing, a way to set a slew of poetic phrases in a unified context. “The Chronicles” is a work and world unto themselves which must be approached as such, not as an ambiguous, androgynous outfit to be tailored at a whim.