The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian
The Telmarines, a race of angry castle dwelling Mexicans, are the Narnian's enemies. I've seen more intimidating sock puppets.
Director Andrew (“Shrek”) Adamson has come out of the closet of animation to direct the live-action “Prince Caspian”, the second in the fallaciously riveting Narnia series, and the results are just the moldering sack of fish bile you’d expect.
Me Shrek, you Prince Caspian. That about sums up Adamson’s writing ability. Imagine my horror when I read 'suitable for children’ on the DVD cover. What vicious lies the troops at Warner Brothers are spreading. Clearly, it's not suitable for anyone. Now it might just be me, but I swear for at least half the movie I thought Narnia was an overgrown block of flats in midtown Mexico were the Cholos rule and aunt Wanita works on her 'special corner.' Such was the confusion as I listened with my English ears and heard Spanish garble spill from the hole on Prince Caspian's face. I swear to God I could not understand a word he was saying. Not a damnable word. If I want to sit in one place for a few hours trying to decipher a foreign tongue, I’ll call Dell’s tech support.
The story begins with the four pretty orphan kids from the last movie. You'd think the hell they went through last time would have left an impression, but alas, a smartass Prince and his one horn of power has to go and call them back to Narnia. King Peter the Magnificent latent homosexual returns with his three siblings, Queen Susan the spoilt cow, King Edmund the confused and Queen Lucy the irrepressible know-it-all. Narnia is in trouble, dwarves are being drowned, bears can't talk and the trees! Holy stage quality costumes! The trees are just standing there, like normal freaking trees! Clearly the end has come.
But their all powerful Lion friend has skipped town, or more pointedly hidden his sensible tail in the forest because of the knife he got in the ribs for helping them in the last movie. Now only the youngest and most antagonizing Lucy 'believes.' Whatever that means we never find out. I thanked the one horn for small mercies. The Telmarines, a race of angry castle dwelling Mexicans, are the Narnian's enemies. I've seen more intimidating sock puppets.
So the Telmarines decide to hate and kill everyone for no apparent reason. A very long and painful scene passes while extras mill about pretending to build a bridge. Just when the big battle comes - finally, the bad guys stare at the good guys, the good guys stare at the bad guys, until you're forced to wake up from your narcoleptic seizure and look away. Have mercy, all is lost. Again. Until the Lion pitches up and conjures the little mermaid's dad out of the river to drown all the Telmarine soldiers. So basically the four orphans are rubbish and all of Narnia would have burned to the ground had not the Lion come to save the day. Why not exclude them completely? Why not pleasantly surprise us and call the next movie, “Aslan eats the Pevensie four”?
The plot is strung out, and like a chewed dog blanket on a cold winter's night it drips with the stench of regret. Regret that the movie tries to be exciting, but rather like an old man with lung disease, peters out to a disappointing, if not sudden, ending. Better use of your time might be to pick at a scab or to shoot yourself in the face with a nail gun.
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