It seems impossible to me that with all of the Christmas books I've read, I haven't ever cracked open the cover of one of the all-time classics, The Polar Express, not even when the arrival of the movie in 2004 made Chris Van Allsburg's acclaimed picture book one of the hottest sellers of the winter in the bookstore where I worked. I was all pumped up to read the book and see the movie, and somehow I did neither. But last week, I finally caught the movie. Now I feel the need to read the book even more than before, simply because I didn't quite get the film. Maybe it can explain a few things...

Like the name of the protagonist. Was this poor kid originally without a name, or was that a strange change made for the purpose of the movie? I find it very distracting not to know the name of the main character, or to be clear on just how he was selected to make this journey. Initially, I thought that this ride was especially for children who find themselves in serious doubt as to Santa's existence, but that doesn't seem to be the case with the young girl our hero befriends on the ride, nor with the thoroughly irritating know-it-all who thinks he has all the answers about the mysteries of the North Pole. The key to their invitation seems to be in the golden train tickets, which spell out a different word for each child at the end of their trip, giving them brief, compelling advice. But why was such a small selection of children chosen? And is every ride on the Polar Express this hazardous?

One of the decorations that always goes out this time of year is a little toy train we bought from Burger King when Anastasia hit theaters. I recalled that train as I watched the film, thinking of its fiery destruction in one of the movie's many intense scenes. The Polar Express takes its passengers on a voyage that is just as harrowing, with the dangers unrelenting. The protagonist and his new friends deal with one life-threatening obstacle after another.

Just one gratuitously narrow scrape involves the boy running outside after his new female friend to give her the ticket she forgot, resulting in him losing the ticket and nearly tumbling off the train. I like this sequence, though, if only because the flight of the wind-whipped ticket is like Forrest Gump's feather sequence on steroids. It gets snapped at by wolves, regurgitated by eagles, rolled into a giant snowball. It takes a swift, high-octane journey fraught with peril, somehow landing intact almost right where the girl left it - only for the boy to go trotting off after her once more, nearly losing the ticket again.

I doubt it's an accident that the scene reminds me so strongly of Forrest Gump. The movies share a director (Robert Zemeckis), a composer (Alan Silvestri) and a star (Tom Hanks). It's a regular Forrest reunion. But the result of their collaborative efforts is not quite so flawless this time. In an attempt to duplicate the mystical quality of Van Allsburg's illustrations for the big screen, Zemeckis relied on motion capture technology, which was used to bring Gollum to such vibrant life in Lord of the Rings. Each of the characters has its roots in the performance of an actor, while another actor usually provided the voice. The result is visually arresting, but I wouldn't go so far to say it's pleasing. "Spooky" would be a more accurate adjective.

Hanks practically carries the movie by himself, having acted for six different characters and voiced five. The most prominent and iconic of these, and my favorite character, is the conductor of the train, a man with a bristly mustache, a gruff accent, a twinkle in his eye and a remarkable resemblance to Hanks. He comes across as stern, intimidating... almost sadistic at times. But all of it is done with a wink, and evidently this conductor just likes to make the kids in his charge sweat a little. When it comes down to it, he's on their side. The conductor is a living, breathing, totally convincing character, and his train is a glorious piece of machinery. Nona Gaye puts in a touching performance as the protagonist's magnanimous new friend, and the late Michael Jeter, playing bumbling engineers Smokey and Steamer, has the opportunity to let his comedic gifts shine in this capper to a too-short career. Most of the other characters, however, look off-kilter. It's hard to say just how, but they're pale, ghostly figures, and for all the expense and effort that went into the project, most of them don't look any more realistic than the humans in Toy Story.

After all the hype surrounding the movie, I expected pure magic. What I ended up with was two hours spent mostly grimacing at the television, waiting to be drawn into the enchantment. I tip my hat to Hanks and those responsible for animating the conductor; the film is worth watching just for him, and for the shivery end-credits ballad penned by Silvestri and Glen Ballard and sung by the enormously talented Josh Groban. On the whole, though, The Polar Express never quite seems to get on track.

Recommended:
Yes