For the past few months moviegoers have had their imaginations piqued by armored polar bears, flying witches, blockbuster stars (Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig, Sam Elliot, and Eva Green) and incredible digital animation, all packed into a three minute teaser trailer. The promise? A classic action-fantasy quest story, with compelling, imaginative characters engaged in a good vs. evil adventure of mythic proportions. The wait is over.
“The Golden Compass” is the film version of book one in a fantasy adventure trilogy (His Dark Materials) by Oxford’s Philip Pullman, an award-winning British author of children’s literature. New Line Cinema is following their familiar strategy: a December blockbuster release of British fantasy literature adapted for the big screen (who can forget the incredible three-year dominance of “The Lord of the Rings” movies?). Indeed, New Line’s early promotional materials for “The Golden Compass” specifically mention the beloved Tolkien series to whet our appetites: “In 2001,” the text scrolls, “New Line Cinema opened the door to Middle Earth.” As the familiar “one ring” tumbles, slow motion, down the screen, it morphs into a golden compass. The text continues the promise: New Line will take you “on another epic journey.”
Pullman’s trilogy, His Dark Materials, is a line from John Milton’s Paradise Lost as well as a retelling of the epic (but with a different outcome). “The Golden Compass” begins it all when an overly-curious 12-year old girl named Lyra hides in a wardrobe. The scene is reminiscent of a key moment in yet another December blockbuster film-adaptation of children’s fantasy, “The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.” Later in Pullman’s story the young girl befriends a ferocious, larger-than-life bear; one might think of Lucy’s special relationship to the Lion Aslan. But similarities between Pullman’s narrative and the fantasy adventures of Lewis and Tolkien are more “false positives” than anything else.
No doubt the Oxford Inklings would appreciate Pullman’s sheer ability to imagine and tell a story; it has attracted the cinematic eye of New Line. As for Pullman’s assessment of Lewis’ and Tolkien’s fantasy fiction? On numerous occasions he has expressed ambivalence toward “The Lord of the Rings” (e.g., an “infantile work” primarily concerned with “maps and plans and languages and codes”). Narnia fares worse: “Morally loathsome … one of the most ugly and poisonous things I’ve ever read.” Indeed, The Golden Compass book is but the beginning of an elaborate narrative that effectively turns the monotheistic worlds of Narnia and Middle Earth on end. As Pullman’s story unfolds, readers find themselves in a parallel world where the church is irredeemably wicked, original sin is salutary and, at the end of the third book, an aged, impotent, imposter “God” dies.
As the first of a trilogy, The Golden Compass barely introduces many of the truly controversial aspects of the plot. But this much is clear: the church (referred to only as “The Magisterium” in the movie) is controlling, power hungry and exists only for its own self-perpetuation. Should such a story concern people of Christian faith? E-mails and articles urging a boycott are proliferating. The film’s producer and stars — Pullman himself — have also weighed in on the question of an atheistic, anti-church agenda. Most telling is the preemptively cautious move to excise all specific denigrations of the church and God from the screenplay. The result is a tame, even guarded film adaptation of the least anti-Christian of the three books. Undoubtedly, many will enjoy the movie (although avid Pullman fans may not appreciate numerous plot compressions and several outright departures from the book). Those unfamiliar with the trilogy may wonder what all the fuss is about.
Cries of conspiracy theorists, that Pullman and the film are intent on turning children away from faith and to atheism will strike many as about as far-fetched as the plot line that has the General Oblation Board of the church (“The Gobblers”) kidnapping children to perform horrific experiments reminiscent of Nazi death camps. And whereas reports that the final book has two children murdering God are simply incorrect, director Chris Weitz has not been the least coy about his strategy for the project: do whatever it takes to get the first film sold big and then refuse to compromise on the adaptation of books two and three (which are far more explicitly anti-religious).
How should Presbyterians think about and respond to Pullman’s work? Telling you what you ought to do would be contrary to what we understand to be the Reformed and Presbyterian approach to being a Christian. It would also play into the monochrome parody with which Pullman characterizes the church in his trilogy — controlling and authoritarian. But Presbyterians most definitely should think carefully about this.
I hope Christian parents and grandparents of children drawn to Pullman’s story make it a point to talk with their kids about it, especially if copies of His Dark Materials were unwrapped around the Christmas tree. “The Golden Compass” is rated PG-13, so for those with younger children, or grandchildren, eager to see the film, it could serve as a family outing (there are some frightening scenes for younger children, but the violence is bloodless even if the roars of the bears and the weapons-fire sound realistic). After viewing the film and/or reading the books together, ask your kids what they think about some of the controversial aspects (e.g., Pope John Calvin in Geneva, the domineering character of the Magisterium/church, etc.). Is this your kids’ experience and perception of their church?
Presbyterians reading the book will no doubt be interested to find that the Protestant Reformation never happened. John Calvin, a Reformation leader in our world, was the last Pope in the world of The Golden Compass, having moved the Holy See to Geneva. For me this is the most telling aspect of His Dark Materials, although it is hardly all that important for Pullman’s plot development. Indeed, Pullman’s simplistically harsh view of the church and God posit a power-hungry, misanthropic institution out of control, and a detached, domineering God devoid of grace. The reform of the church (through both Protestant and Roman Catholic reform movements) and the doctrine of God’s grace have gotten lost in Pullman’s worldview.
In stark contrast to Pullman’s theology stands our Presbyterian Book of Confessions, pointing to an omnipotent, all-loving God who promises to forgive human sin in Jesus Christ and a church that works for reconciliation in response to God’s gracious work through the Savior.
Quinn Fox is associate for theology in the Office of Theology and Worship of the General Assembly Council, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) in Louisville, Ky.
