Editor’s note: Drew Trotter, a theologian who frequently writes and lectures on film, had the privilege of visiting the movie set of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe in New Zealand last December. Trotter shares his observations in this exclusive story for Christianity Today Movies.
I arrive in Christchurch on a Sunday morning, too late for church, and drive on up to Arthur’s Pass where filming is in the final stages for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
Arthur’s Pass, about two hours up into the mountains above Christchurch, is a two-sides-of-the-highway-for-half-a-mile kind of town, and the significance of the town’s name doesn’t escape me. The myth of King Arthur shares much of the tragedy, glory and truth of C. S. Lewis’s Narnia tales. As I run out to a pay phone to call Tom Williams – the assistant to Mark Johnson, the producer who has given me permission to visit the set the next day – another pleasing omen occurs: Though it is almost New Zealand summer, a beautiful, light snow begins to fall, covering everything in a thin blanket of white.
Are the real environs of the movie location affected by the story of fictional Narnia? Does the threat of “always winter, never Christmas” exist here, too? More importantly, will Aslan appear to drive away the winter and bring the spring?
The next morning, I pass through the security gate and drive up the narrow road to the site. After meeting Williams and getting a tour of the base camp, we visit two of the three active sets at this location.
The first is where all the “green screen” filming is done. They use this huge tent mostly to film filler shots; today they are shooting a few fauns and centaurs making merry at the coronation celebration for the Pevensie children, after the Witch is defeated.
The next scene, on the battlefield where another unit is shooting the Witch’s army moving into position, is likewise inconsequential. And yet it will, like all such “secondary” scenes, make the movie feel real to the viewer. Throughout the morning, I reflect on the reality of the filmmaking process compared to what we will see on screen. I spend all morning watching scenes that, if they get into the film at all, will last no more than a few seconds of screen time, and will evoke little emotional response in the viewer. In reality, though, hundreds of people work for more than a day in order to get those few seconds of film into the can.
But what I see next is hardly just a “filler” scene. It’s a vital one.
On Top of the Mountain
For the rest, visit the source link.