Needless to say, I devoured the chronicles during my elementary school years, reading them over and over by myself and with my parents. And then junior high hit—accompanied by comics—and it was another decade before I rediscovered Lewis’ fiction. Tracey and I read the first four books aloud with a good friend during Tracey’s last year at Centre College, and (finally) finished the series our second year of marriage. Then back to the shelf they went.

It wasn’t till I heard that Andrew Adamson’s adaptation of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (2005) was en route that I once more dusted off the battered box and its dog-eared contents. They’re falling apart as I read them this time, but every page also drops new insights into God’s love and grace. My little girls are picking up a few things too, like the way Aslan forgives Edmund for his treachery instead of roaring at him, and the sadness with which the lion says goodbye to the Pevensie girls as he hands himself over to his enemies—both of which scenes were executed perfectly in Adamson’s film.

Now, how do we usually discuss the film adaptation of a favorite book? Ah, yes. We lead with criticism, follow up with sarcasm, and toss the barest scraps of praise over our shoulder as we walk haughtily by.

To be honest, I think this incarnation of Lewis’ work deserves better. The same kind of purists who berated Peter Jackson for taking liberties with the The Lord of the Rings trilogy will likely thumb their noses at this latest filmmaker who decided to pump up the action—adding a dramatic fight on an ice floe here and a flaming phoenix to a battle scene there—and who dramatically heightened (by adding greater motivation to) the ongoing conflict between Peter and Edmund.

Such disdain is unfortunate, as the movie actually delivers in all the most important places. Though I would have preferred that someone other than Liam Neeson voice Aslan, the beautifully imaged lion does exude that same admixture of compassion and anger which characterizes the book character, and all but the most stoic audience member will join the heroines in weeping over his corpse during the movie’s climax. A number of wonderful character moments dot the film too, including Lucy’s wide-eyed wonder when she enters Narnia for the first time, Tumnus’ inner conflict as he decides to help Lucy escape the White Witch, Susan’s horror during Aslan’s execution, Peter’s bravery as he faces the witch’s approaching army, Edmund’s newfound courage when he risks his life to save his beleaguered brother, and the cold fury with which Jadis (the White Witch) decimates her enemies in battle.

The final proof that the movie effectively captured the book and my childhood experience of it, however, lies in my emotional, child-like reaction to it. For the first time since my youth, I cried at least five times in the course of a single movie. Not since I saw E.T. as a fifth-grader has a movie wrenched so many tears from my ducts.

I must say, I parted with each of them gratefully.