There are actually two lost boys in this episode, though the fact the episode title only references one is a pretty damning indicator of the fact that neither has anything to do with the other.
Yes, this is the episode in which Will Parry, the trilogy's deuteragonist, is properly introduced - a whole book before he's due to turn up if you're reading your way through this story.
And honestly, I can understand why this decision was made. Given that they're working with child actors, it makes sense to get them into the proceedings early before their growth spurts start, and it's clear the screenwriter is trying to build up dual journeys taken by the two children, journeys that will culminate with their meeting in Cittàgazze.
(Of course, by that logic Will should have appeared from the very first episode, but there simply isn't enough material for that to have happened. In The Subtle Knife, he's met Lyra by the middle of the first chapter).
Doing this means that we lose the cold water splash that the beginning of The Subtle Knife provides; the profound shift in perspective that sees the story open in the modern-day Oxford of our world, from the point-of-view of a brand new character.
But the real problem is that Lyra discovering a daemon-less boy has nothing to do with Will's story at this point.
Which means that the fate of poor Billy Costa carries none of the horror or tragedy that it should, not least because the show simply hasn't captured the true nature of the bond between human and daemon. Heck, it ultimately relies on telling us how horrific it is, with Lee Scoresby referring to a daemon as a "soul" ("if you can remove someone's soul, you can do anything") a word that the book deliberately never used.
To say "it's worse than anything," is the height of telling not showing, made worse by the fact that it's being told to people who are already aware of how horrific losing a daemon would be.
Argh. I know it seems like these reviews are just complaints from an over-invested book fan, so please know that I am liking this adaptation for the most part. The choices it's making, even when they deviate from the book are understandable, even if they're not as elegant as they could be. (Suffice to say, if I wasn't enjoying myself, I wouldn't be bothering to write these reviews).
***
Amir Wilson nails Will Parry: his quiet introspection, his calm manner, his hyper-awareness (and mistrust) of the adult world, his fierce love for his mother - it's all crucially important to the arc ahead of him, and you can already see the weariness in his young face. Great casting.
All this stuff with Boreal staking out the house and integrating himself with Elaine is brand new material, which will surely lead to the church agents breaking into the place to find John Parry's letters. That said, they are little more than a McGuffin in the trilogy; an excuse to get Will out of the house and off on his adventure, so I'm not sure why they're sinking this much screen-time into it all.
Unless it leads to Boreal discovering Lyra's "true name", which is the crux of The Subtle Knife, and certainly in keeping with the events of the book, given that he's the one who eventually divulges this information to Mrs Coulter.
Another invention is Kaisa adding Will to the witch's prophecy that states Lyra "will bring about the end of destiny." My memory of the trilogy's pay-off for this prophecy is a little fuzzy (again, it mostly exists as a device to get so many different types of sentient life invested in Lyra) but Will was definitely never a part of it, and I'm genuinely stumped as to how they're going to answer this in The Amber Spyglass.
***
We get some decent material over in Lyra's plot, largely consisting of the banter and growing affection between Lyra, Lee Scoresby and Iorek. The sight of Lyra riding Iorek through the icy tundra must surely be the visual epitome of Pullman's vision, though I'm disappointed they left out the part where Lyra tests Iorek's assertion that "you cannot trick a bear" by feinting and striking with a stick and Iorek demonstrating each time that he knows what she's going to do.
This image is taken directly from On the Marionette Theatre by Heinrich von Kleist (which is essentially Pullman's central thesis in a single easy-to-read essay) so it's a shame it's been cut.
It was also interesting to note that it's the alethiometer which tells Lyra of the "ghost", a plot-point that's more important than the show makes it feel. Largely, that something intelligent and all-knowing is trying to communicate information to Lyra of its own volition; that the alethiometer (or rather the Dust that moves it) isn't just a tool without a mind of its own.
More clumsy was the way they handled Lyra's manipulations when it came to striking out on her own and hunting down the ghost with Iorek. I'm sure they were trying to draw parallels with Mrs Coulter, but the scenes were so disconnected. First Farder Coram immediately shuts down the possibility of her going, then we see her trying to coax Ma Costa into agreeing with her plan, then it's John Faa seeing her off with a warning to return safely (with no sign of Farder Coram around).
They say no until they say yes, with no real sense of how Lyra wins that argument.
And there are plenty of similarly clumsy moments of characterization here, like Will being bulled at school, even though his thing was rendering himself totally invisible. Now there are kids yelling "freak" at him in the hallways. And why is it such a big deal that his mother would turn up at the gym anyway? Everyone acted appalled, as though she'd done something terribly wrong, even though she's just a parent coming to see her son play sport. (On that note, Will Parry, boxing? Haha, no).
And there's a supportive teacher who offers assistance to Will? *Deep sigh*. No, just no.
Here's a quote from the book:
There were times when [Mrs Parry] was calmer and clearer than others, and Will took care to learn from her then how to shop and cook and keep the house clean, so that he could do it when she was confused and frightened. And he learned how to conceal himself too, how to remain unnoticed at school, how not to attract attention from the neighbours, even when his mother was in such a state of fear and madness that she could barely speak. What Will himself feared more than anything was that the authorities would find out about her, and take her away, and put him in a home among strangers.
It continues with the reunion between Serafina and Coram, which is beautiful when the two are just staring sadly/longingly at each other, but is ruined when their quiet agreement to help each other becomes leaden exposition about their feelings and history together.
***
We ends things with Lyra getting kidnapped and taken to Bolvangar, where everyone is over-the-top sinister. I'll use the old refrain of "in the books" one last time to say that there it's scary because the staff is so calm and clinical despite the horrific things they're doing to children.
Miscellaneous Observations:
As in the film, Ma Costa comes on the journey to save the children, which makes sense, as does (again like in the film) changing Tony Makarios to Billy Costa, the child we have an emotional connection to.
Where is Serafina's cloud pine? She can't just FLY like Superman!
The episode included Elaine Parry's bricking counting, and the fact her husband's letters are hidden in the sewing machine - but not the dead fish that Billy pitifully clings to in a pathetic attempt to replace his daemon? Not the coin Lyra engraves with the word "Ratter", to honour Billy as the scholars at Jordan College are? Oy.
The gyptian funeral song was lovely though.
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