When I was seven, my attempts to get to Narnia by way of garage, closet and kitchen cupboard were disappointingly fruitless. I chalked this up to not having a proper wardrobe or being British, and consoled myself by camping under the dining room table for a weekend.

Fourteen years later, as I settled into the plushy upholstered seats of NYC’s Ziegfeld Theater, the last thing I expected to see was blitzkrieg bombing of Great Britain in the opening scenes of “The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” There’s no sugarcoating here, and that’s what sets this movie apart from the canon of Disney movies.

There is a flood of controversy surrounding C.S. Lewis’ epic story, widely regarded as a Christian allegory, and the Christian-rock CD accompanying the release of “Narnia.” Forget about it. It’s not an issue, as the filmmakers never waver from their goal of creating a gorgeous and universally meaningful film. With the flurry of adaptations at the box office this year, “Chronicles of Narnia” is perhaps the most faithful and engaging one yet, one that might just have Harry Potter running for the hills. C.S. Lewis never wanted to see his story translated onto the silver screen, but even the late author would have to admit that this film comes pretty damn close to capturing the essence of Narnia.

Antoine St. Exupery’s novel, “The Little Prince,” tells us that children often have to make allowances for grown-ups. “Chronicles of Narnia” has a similar message, as it urges viewers to look at the world with a sense of wonder. Go back, it tells us. Be curious. It is a reminder to not grow old in mind and heart, ironic because some of the reporters around me grumbled at having to interview the young actors who play the Pevensie children. “Why aren’t we interviewing Liam Neeson?” they whined. “What can children possibly tell us that we don’t know?” Plenty.

At the round table press conference, I found myself directed to table six. It was oddly full. Paul Fischer, a critic from DarkHorizons.com, tried to swat me away as he would a fly hovering too close to his breakfast pastry.

“Go over there, that table looks empty,” he urged. “There’s no room here for you.” Was I baby Jesus being refused room at the inn? No. I defiantly pulled up a chair and found myself seated next to the only other film critic under the age of 35, Jeff Sneider of New York University. We immediately became allies.

Academy Award-winning producer Mark Johnson (“Rain Man,” “The Notebook”) was surprised when asked what his favorite story (separate of the Narnia series) was while he was growing up. But his eyes lit up as he began to remember what inspired him about these tales.

“I remember loving ‘The Wind in the Willows.’ I liked the characters and the fact that the book had a map inside it, I liked being able to refer to it and to understand where everyone was going. And strangely enough, because he writes so simply, Hemingway’s ‘The Old Man and The Sea.’”

“Compassion and forgiveness are essential to the book, and hopefully to the film. They are values that belong to everybody, for however long we have been around,” says Johnson. “The religious parallels you find in the movie you can find in other movies, like Star Wars and the Matrix.”

I wanted to take Georgie Hensley (who plays Lucy Pevensie) back to California with me the moment I see her skip up to the table.

“I’m not allowed to start without James [McAvoy, who plays the faun Mr. Tumnus],” she says. “I’m going to take roll now,” Hensley informs us, grabbing the sheet with our names on it and reading them aloud. I have a feeling that this ten-year-old will pronounce my name correctly while adults always mispronounce it “Tom Vu.” She does.

It’s immediately apparent that out of a casting call of over 2,000 youngsters, she is the perfect Lucy. She’s bright, she’s precocious and more articulate than most of my Stanford peers, exuding a rare kind of optimism and curiosity that she brings to playing the youngest Pevensie. She’d never acted a day in her life before “Narnia,” a fact it’s hard to get over.

“It’s a very good book to open, I thought I’d look like Lucy...I was being myself,” she states matter-of-factly. When asked what it was like seeing Narnia for the first time, Hensley beams like it’s already Christmas. “They blindfolded me, and they kept it a secret. So Georgie’s first reaction is actually Lucy’s first reaction! A lot of Lucy is Georgie.”

Her eyes grow as wide as saucers when I ask her if she’s been to Disneyland and what her favorite rides are. She’s astonished that American kids don’t learn “joined-up writing” (translation: cursive) until they’re in third grade, exclaiming, “We learn that when we’re four or five, we get lines if we don’t write in joined-up writing!”

Frustrated by all the reporters jumping down each other’s throats, I resorted to writing a question to Skandar Keynes (who plays Edmund Pevensie) on the back of my notepad out of sheer desperation. It worked.

INT: If you could escape right now from this press junket, through a wardrobe, where would you go?

KEYNES: I’d go to some lush Caribbean island somewhere, with sun. New York is really dry. Some place that is more moist.

TILDA SWINTON: You’re looking at the Fiji water bottle, Skander, that’s where you’re going.

HENSLEY: Scotland, or maybe New Zealand!

McAVOY: Argentina, up in the mountains, my friends are on a hiking trip there right now. I’d hike.

Scotland’s Tilda Swinton is deliciously scary, both onscreen and off. During our interview, I half-expected her to turn me into an ice sculpture the way she does her enemies in Narnia. As Jadis the White Witch, she channels all of her frosty Elizabethan acting skills and is quite the badass. In the way that “pure evil must adore pure good,” Swinton’s Jadis is Aslan’s biggest groupie and adversary. The filmmakers have made a faithful adaptation of the children’s story, but “the Christians are welcome,” Tilda smilingly remarks. Watch out for the stone table scene, it’s intense.

“It was roots from a tree, basically, nailed onto the top of my head,” she explains cheerfully, regarding the White Witch’s intense wig and wardrobe. That’s dedication. She shoots me a knowing smile after I ask her about to recall some of her craziest college memories of Cambridge, pleading, “I can’t remember them, they must’ve been that good! You should’ve given me a day to think about it.”

Having been the last member of the cast to read C.S. Lewis’ story, she reaffirms that the story will always find an audience: “It takes a child to the place that they’re really dealing with in their own time, which is the idea of a parentless world where only they can prevail and they encounter all the things they’re frightened or and encounter all of the things they hope will happen to them, and they turn it around. C.S. Lewis set out to do this, and in my mind, he did it.”