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Let’s start with what’s present in this stage adaptation, by Selma Dimitrijevic and Tim Carroll, of the first novel in C.S. Lewis’s “The Chronicles of Narnia” series. 

Yes, there’s still that magical wardrobe that transports the four Pevensie children to the world of Narnia. 

Yes, there remains that evil White Witch (played by Élodie Gillett) who’s plunged the kingdom into perpetual winter. 

But no, there is no lion to be seen in this retelling of the classic story. Aslan (Kelly Wong), the true king of Narnia exiled by the witch, is portrayed here as — what looks to be, at least — a lumberjack. Why, you ask? We’re told it’s because Aslan appears as people want to see him. 

The problem with this production isn’t necessarily that it’s missing its titular lion, as much of a radical bait-and-switch that might be. It’s that this artistic choice isn’t grounded in any broader vision for the show. 

Is this nonliteral portrayal of Aslan meant to underscore the very human values that he embodies? Is it meant to dial back some of the more fantastical elements of Lewis’s story? Or did the creative team just run out of money after blowing their budget on totally unnecessary costumes (by Judith Bowden) that look more akin to NCAA mascots and Comicon cosplay attire than designs fit for the stage? 

Who knows? 

That much could also be said about this whole staging, a dull and half-baked Narnia misfire that wastes its onstage talent and seemingly has no clue what it’s supposed to be.

Dimitrijevic’s production begins with a sombre tone. Amid blaring air raid sirens, the four Pevensie kids — Lucy (Alexandra Gratton), Edmund (Dieter Lische-Parkes), Susan (Kristi Frank) and Peter (Jeff Irving) — are whisked far away from London and into the home of Professor Kirk (David Adams). 

Genny Sermonia’s choreography in this opening sequence is brusque and unnaturally stylized. Initially, it feels Dimitrijevic is tapping into the some of the story’s darker themes, leaning into its Second World War setting.

But the play’s tone soon shifts, rather unexpectedly, after the children enter Narnia. The White Witch, who wants to prevent the Pevensies from fulfilling an age-old prophesy that would see her dethroned and them installed as the new rulers of Narnia, is written like a pantomime villain, sinister cackles and all. 

Even the beloved character of Mr. Tumnus (Michael Therriault), a gentle faun who becomes entangled in the Witch’s plot, is plied with cheap panto humour that’s more suited for a Ross Petty production than the Shaw Festival mainstage. (At one point, Tumnus jokes about having a case of the munchies after he’s “stoned” by the Witch.) 

Plodding along for more than two hours, with an intermission, Dimitrijevic and Carroll’s adaptation doesn’t develop any of the key characters, nor their relationships with each other. Instead, their narrative seems more concerned about shuffling the action from one location to the next. 

It often feels, in fact, that the two playwrights have little trust in the original material. Perhaps that could explain why they’ve shoehorned in a random assortment of songs (by Ryan deSouza) that neither serve the plot nor make much sense in the context of the story. Also a mystery: why the characters start breaking the fourth wall and talking to the audience halfway through the show. 

The sets are largely drab and uninspired, on a dark stage with a pair of woefully underused turntables. In this iteration, the winter wonderland that’s Narnia looks like it was constructed out of semi-shredded strands of white fabric. (It’s curious that there’s no scenic designer credited in the program; instead, James Lavoie is listed as a “scenic consultant,” with pre-production design consultation credited to Beyata Hackborn.) 

“The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,” the Shaw Festival has said, will be the company’s last play in its Narnia series. After previous outings that have proved middling at best, now followed up by this disappointing finale, let’s hope the Shaw’s portal to Narnia is indeed shut and firmly barricaded.