Favourite characters are introduced to the audience with the only apparent purpose of pointing young Lyra in the direction of another po-faced oddball who might in turn direct her to the next. If you have favourite moments then rest assured they are here in some form – but they will only match the fantasies in your head if you are a mildly depressed Belgian accountant.Īlmost every memorable occurrence from the source material is abbreviated into a hasty passage of exposition telling you why this bit’s important. The talented writer/director of About A Boy has made something humourlessly faithful to the book’s events, but without its feeling. Tom Stoppard’s script must have been written backwards in Swahili to be rejected for Weitz’s box-ticking effort. It is as packed with incident and excitement as a trip to Marks and Spencer’s sock department. The key theme of the failings of organised religion is given only mumbling lip-service, and Pullman’s flood of magical creativity is turned into a heavy mist of confusing silliness. Where Jackson wrestled a literary doorstop, packed with ideas both profound and banal, into an elegant and heart-thumping trilogy, Chris Weitz has started his own would-be threesome with a graceless, distracted plod through one of the most interesting and incendiary novels of the past fifteen years. Not unless you think that the secret to the success of Peter Jackson’s masterful trilogy was a very long walk and a selection of characters named after remote villages in Uzbekistan. Ordinarily this wouldn’t be a fair comparison, but since New Line made it themselves with the movie’s first trailer, let’s address one thing from the off: The Golden Compass is not a new Lord Of The Rings.
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