Neil Armstrong was my hero not because he walked on the moon but because he seldom spoke about walking on the moon, or anything else to do with himself. Declining to call attention to his improbable achievements was one of Armstrong's improbable achievements, an act of genuine humility. C.S. Lewis wrote: "True humility is not thinking less of yourself. It's thinking of yourself less."
If you're going through withdrawal after the end of the Harry Potter series, or if you outgrew "The Chronicles of Narnia" and have moved past the "Lord of the Rings," we have just the thing for you: Welcome back to the magical land of Fillory!
The third of C.S. Lewis' "Narnia" books to make it to the big screen almost didn't happen when Disney lost the faith after the "disappointing" returns for "Prince Caspian," with its worldwide box office gross of $419 million.
"You may find Narnia a more savage place than you remember," the dwarf Trumpkin cautions the Pevensie children -- Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy -- on their return visit to the magical land they'd visited in "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe."
A dozen producers share the bragging rights for bringing the popular Holly Black-Tony DiTerlizzi "Spiderwick" children's fantasy books to the screen. That wouldn't necessarily be grounds for optimism, so it's a relief to report that "The Spiderwick Chronicles" is free of the elephantine designs that bogged down "The Golden Compass."
"Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," the final book in J.K. Rowling's seven-book series about a youthful wizard and his magical and darkening world, arrived at 12:01 a.m. Saturday local time around the globe.
Philip Anschutz had three things going against him when he started producing movies six years ago. First, the secretive billionaire financier was a major contributor to Republican candidates. That wasn't going to get him any invitations to George Clooney's dinner parties.
Alice, down the rabbit hole, tumbled into a Wonderland of vanity and vice -- the real world etched in satirical acid -- and her early-20th-century American counterpart, Dorothy, found Oz, with its surreal yokels and charlatans, to be just as crackpot a place.