Shadowlands

You don't have to know who C. S. Lewis was to enjoy Shadowlands, but it helps if you do. Many people know him best for his children's novel The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, For others, Lewis is notable for his writings on God, ethics and religion, in such works as The Allegory of Love and The Screwtape Letters. (However, since Lewis never addressed the topic of professional hockey, he may be unknown to some of our staff.)

Lewis was a glaring example of the English intellectual who wrote passionately about lofty ideals, but who led such a cloistered life that he had little direct experience with much of anything. Even when he wrote about sex (as he did in That Hideous Strength), it was so abstract that no one was sure what the heck he was talking about.

That's where Shadowlands comes in. The movie deals with Lewis's brief marriage to an American woman whom he barely knew, but who was a fan of his books. She was fleeing a lousy ex-husband, she wanted to remain in England and she needed to be married to do so. The marriage was more than one of mere convenience, however. There was real affection between the two, which provided Lewis with a rare encounter with his own feelings - which he desperately needed.

In the lead roles, Anthony Hopkins continues his reign as the British master of repressed gentility, while Debra Winger proves, once again, that she's a solid performer. Richard Attenborough directed Shadowlands, and was able to do it without a cast of thousands or an entire continent to film on. The result is a fine, though occasionally predictable, character study.

In fact, I can honestly say that Shadowlands is the best film I've seen so far this year.

(Ed. Note: This review was published on Jan. 5. That is way I could say the final line.)