Film Footle: The Golden Compass

There was always going to be some pressure for Chris Weitz to deliver a film that did justice to Northern Lights / The Golden Compass. As first in a fantasy trilogy, His Dark Materials, which falls into the category nauseatingly labelled "kidult", there are several areas to be mindful of: strong, beloved characters, complex interweaving plotlines and spectacularly imaginative settings. Two of these went well for Weitz; sadly it was the dilution of the convoluted plotlines that failed to work, with watery, soft-boiled results.

The story is that of Lyra Belacqua, orphan niece to powerful Lord Asriel, who enjoys a semi-feral existence in the esteemed Jordan College, Oxford. This Oxford is one parallel and close to, but not the same as, ours, and the action in the coming films will tell of movement between the worlds. In this world people's souls are on the outside of their bodies, in an animal form, and together with her precious daemon Pan, Lyra is catapulted into a complex adventure involving Dust, the authoritative Magisterium and the strange, horrifying goings on of the Gobblers, who steal children that are never seen again...

As a complex trilogy, it's important to look at the story with a judicial editorial eye and excise quite a hefty lump of unnecessary meandering. The Amber Spyglass in particular is a bloated piece compared to the other two so it was as well to start as they meant to go on. And indeed some characters were amalgamated, some plotlines trimmed and some of Philip Pullman's already wobbly theology simplified even further. Having seen the National Theatre expertly reduce the books to an excellent, moving retelling, I had high expectations. This version, sadly, fell short.

There have been complaints that the Magisterium is reduced to a shadowy, non-religious organisation. To that I say nonsense, as even The Fall of Adam and Eve was described clearly and words such as "blasphemy" really only apply to religious organisations. The only problem is that by turning the priests into token baddies Weitz runs the risk of having panto villains, which only serves to highlight Pullman's convoluted muddling of the Church and the people within it even further. I've always loved His Dark Materials for its imaginative storytelling, irritated only by some of the more nonsensical explanations for an abandonment of faith (*cough* Mary Malone *cough*). By reducing Pullman's very real struggle with the corruption that has undoubtedly existed in organised religion down to "we tell you what to do" versus "doing whatever you like" (as if that were possible!), much of what is bewitching and beguiling about life in Lyra's world is lost. Only the presence of wonderful actors such as Simon McBurney (Fra Pavel), Derek Jacobi and Christopher Lee saves the battle from complete irrelevance.

And speaking of actors, Dakota Blue Richards is excellent. She invests Lyra with a great deal of the inquisitive, angry, emotional charm that makes her both irritating and wonderful. Nicole Kidman is a wonderful Mrs. Coulter, full of icy, hypnotising style and intelligence and Daniel Craig's brief appearances as Lord Asriel were simply great. The supporting cast includes some excellent child talent - Freddie Highmore as the voice of Pantalaimon - and a hidden superstar or two amongst the adults' daemons; Kathy Bates as Hester was particularly brilliant, and Kristin Scott Thomas presumably has a lot further to go with Stelmaria. Ian McKellen rounds off the who's who with a typical gravitas as he takes on the voice of armoured bear Iorek Byrnison. And despite - or perhaps because of - a peculiar, unplaceable accent, Eva Green's Serafina Pekkala shows promise.

Visually the film is also stunning. The bears are wonderful, the sets beguiling, the daemons gorgeous, the CGI melded beautifully with the live action sequences.

But what holds the captivating visuals and good performances together?

Not much, unfortunately. As well as the so-so villains, there's also a distinct lack of heart. One scene in particular should have been frightening and moving; when Lyra finds the result of the curious Bolvangar experiments it should be made even more intense by the fact that the character involved has been altered to be one we know and love better. But by then it felt so much like a series of set pieces stitched inexpertly together that it left me cold and dispassionate. The pace is rollicking - I can't complain of it dragging - but there is virtually no connection with the audience.

The action chooses to end at a point short of the end of the book, interestingly, perhaps so as to allow for a lower certificate and a happy ending for a children's Christmas film. But it seems to me much more time was spent creating a happy spectacle which would charm families at Christmas time than telling the story. Somewhat unforgiveable for a film with a guaranteed audience of fans of the book, most of whom are adults anyway.

As a brief, visually impressive summary of the set pieces of the books, it's fine. As an emotional and gripping story in its own right, separate from the text and uniquely enjoyable, it fails on almost every front. It's a disappointing halfway-house, and I can only hope that with the introduction of my favourite character, Will, in The Subtle Knife, things will improve.