Like the Lord of the Rings and even the first couple of Harry Potter films, I haven't read The Chronicles of Narnia and knew little to nothing about it going in the theater. I was sure to find a lion, a witch and for some reason a place for clothing, but that's it. But you probably knew that already. It's a pattern we've established.

I'm tellin' ya, just as soon as there's a big-screen version of "Ribsy" or "Are You There God? It's Me Margaret," I'm totally there. Can you imagine everyone on the edge of their seat, anticipating the "must increase my bust" scene? We'll go bonkers.

Perhaps I've said too much. Note to self: Stop telling personal stories one sentence earlier.

	Sure, Mr. Tumnus doesn't have feet and no body hair above the waist, but he is a member of the Salsa Of The Month club, so he's got that going for him.

About the only thing I had heard about The Chronicles was the buzz from Christian groups looking for an allegory relating the C.S. Lewis adaptation with Jesus, desperately trying to cling to any mainstream movie that might entertain the masses and doesn't star Kirk Cameron.

I wouldn't know. My brother Scott is the one who likes to draw parallels between movies and religious iconography, not me. When I stare at clouds I see a doggy and a bunny rabbit playing in the snow. He sees John Locke writing a treatise on the reasonableness of Christianity. We each have our talents.

If you're likewise ignorant of the world of Narnia, let me provide some background. The setting is the Battle of Britain, with German bombs raining down on English cities and its citizens. Four siblings - two girls and two boys - are packed up and sent to the country for safety at the elegant home of a reclusive professor and his housekeeper who isn't exactly the warmest disciplinarian.

During their attempts to entertain themselves, they stumble upon a wardrobe whereupon they can enter into coats and exit into another world, one filled with mythical creatures big and small, good and evil, and where animals communicate in our language, such as a pair of sassy beavers and a fox right out of the Three Musketeers.

This is the kind of movie, then, that couldn't be made until now using modern computer effects that are pretty bloody brilliant. In fact, I'm convinced that the youngest girl, Lucy, is a special effect, for she is impossibly adorable and has a face far too expressive for a human.

Once in Narnia, the kids learn that as "daughters of Eve" and "sons of Adam," they're the only humans around and it just so happens that their arrival fits snuggly with a prophecy that says they'll save that world from the White Witch (Tilda Swinton).

That is a voluminous amount of story and the movie does well to fit it all in under three hours. Even still I wanted to know more about the creatures fighting for good and their nemeses under the witch's banner. I wanted to see how the kids matured into good fighters with the help of weapons provided by Father Christmas himself. (Don't worry, it all works, and frankly, I wish St. Nick would give me a cool sword or a bow-and-arrow that's always true to the target. Not that I'm not perfectly happy with an extra set of golf balls and a DVD or two.)

	With one strike of her arrow, Susan struck a blow for all hairy horny creatures everywhere (and you know who you are, am I right?).

Contributing to the positive,the score was important to the lasting adoration I have of the LOTR and Potter films, and in Narnia the soundtrack works equally well. The ethereal and at times hard-hitting composition is never overwhelming and the vocal slices aren't distracting. It flows from one scene to the next flawlessly, and I plan on purchasing the score as soon as I can get to Best Buy. (The CNN Center already has a hotel, a dozen restaurants, a sunglass hut, three retail stores and a Waldenbooks, so where's the music store? Huh?)

The ultimate battle is certainly unlike any you've ever seen on film. Unless, that is, you're used to seeing centaurs face off against minotaurs, or cheetahs running full speed at snarling tigers, or giant birds dropping boulders from their talons (obviously not European swallows, who would need a string tied between them and ... I'm off the subject again).

Getting to the Jesus stuff, for much of the movie I'm thinking, "yeah, this could be seen as a Christian metaphor, though mostly it feels like a World War II allegory, what with the secret police and Aslan the lion returning to free the people of Narnia with a large armed force behind him."

And then comes one scene that's unmistakable if you've ever heard of Jesus, even if he only helps you hit a curve ball, and you can't help but go, "Oh, okay, yeah, that's totally a Jesus thing," albeit it framed in an imaginative adventure filled with creatures from fables.

I really didn't want to go into the movie thinking of it as a Christian parable, wanting to be entertained by the film's story as a whole, and I left the same way. Sure there's the Jesus scene and the Judas-esque talk of a traitor seduced by the dark side, but overall don't feel like you're being moralized to if you'd rather not be. Not that that's a bad thing.

Okay, over-moralizing is often annoying in a movie, but mostly such moralizing is coming from the left-wingers in Hollywood with oil=bad/retribution=bad films like Syriana and Munich who yet still feel oppressed by the mere suggestion that churches are using Narnia as a Sunday school lesson. I would also expect PETA to moralize all over Narnia for the fur coats worn throughout much of the first half.

I don't mean to say that Christians are latching on to this movie without reason, either. After all, Disney was all for a contemporary Christian album released to coincide with the movie and its themes.

Either way, what I'm trying to say (though not well), is that Narnia is a worthy addition to the recent spate of fantastical special effects-laden epics with hearts of gold. The weighty story should still charm the little ones as well as adults who have held on to a childlike imagination.

The verdict: