Well now. Two weeks ago I wrote about the fuss over the Aslan casting in Netflix's coming Narnia films, and I confess I expected the shouting to continue right up until opening day. Instead, somebody went and asked the people who actually have standing in this matter, and they answered. Members of C.S. Lewis' family reportedly issued a statement Tuesday supporting the upcoming adaptation of The Magician's Nephew, and by all accounts they came down squarely on the side of enthusiasm.

Support. That word matters here. Not "we have concerns." Not "we are monitoring the situation," which is what publicists say when they're quietly updating their resumes. The family looked at what's being built and said yes. I've read that reported a few times now and it has not gotten less refreshing.

The people Lewis loved, and the people charged with protecting his work, have looked at this production and blessed it. The usual Hollywood playbook is to buy the rights, sand off every edge, and dare the audience to complain. Going to the family first, and getting a warm answer back, is more care than most remakes receive in their entire lifecycles, and I'll give credit where it's due.

Now, I had my own questions about the casting, and I'll stand by them. Aslan is a voice built on warmth and authority and a rumble you feel in the floorboards. When the news broke, I thought of a dozen performances before I thought of a lion. But there's a difference between having questions and declaring the thing blasphemy before a single frame exists, and a large slice of the internet skipped straight past the difference. The outrage business never reconciles its books.

The folks who were furious over this now find themselves in the awkward position of being angrier about Aslan than Aslan's own household, which is a strange pew to sit in. There's a sermon in there about judging before the harvest, but I'll leave the preaching to better qualified folks and simply note that Lewis himself spent whole chapters warning against exactly this sort of confident rumormongering. Screwtape would recognize the machinery instantly.

So where does that leave us? With a movie that might be wonderful, might be a mess, and will be judged, as all things should be, when we can actually see it. I spent sixty years learning that lesson at the matinee. The trailer tells you nothing, the casting notice tells you less, and the only honest review is written after the lights go down. But the family has spoken, the estate is at peace, and the professional outrage class will simply have to find a new lion to poke.

I'll be there opening weekend with my own popcorn and my own opinions. I've earned the right to both, and unlike some folks, I intend to use them in the correct order.