Most people think of the big-budget Disney movies when they hear about Narnia. Or maybe they remember the BBC version with the slightly clunky (but charming) puppet for Aslan. But if you grew up in the late 70s or early 80s, you know the truth. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe cartoon film from 1979 is actually the version that sticks in your nightmares—in a good way. It was weird. It was jagged. It felt like a fever dream.
Produced by Children’s Television Workshop and directed by Bill Melendez (the guy who gave us A Charlie Brown Christmas), this wasn't some saccharine, polished corporate product. It was a joint venture between the UK and the US, and it felt like it. It had this specific, grainy texture that defined 70s animation.
The Weird History of the 1979 Animated Narnia
Honestly, the backstory is kinda fascinating. Melendez wasn't exactly known for high fantasy. He was the Peanuts guy. Yet, he took C.S. Lewis’s beloved book and turned it into a 95-minute animated epic that debuted on CBS. It was actually the first ever feature-length animated film made for television. That’s a huge deal. It won an Emmy for Outstanding Animated Program, which most people have totally forgotten.
Budget-wise, they didn't have Disney money. You can see it in the animation loops and the way some backgrounds feel a bit static. But that limitation gave it a soul. The character designs for the Pevensie children—Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy—were simple, but their expressions were raw. When Edmund eats that Turkish Delight, you don't just see a kid eating candy. You see a kid being corrupted. The green glow, the frantic chewing. It’s unsettling.
Two Different Voices for the Same Kids
Here’s a fun bit of trivia that messes with people’s heads. There are actually two different soundtracks for the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe cartoon film. Because it was a co-production, they recorded a British cast and an American cast. If you watched it on the BBC, the kids sounded like they were from London. If you watched it on CBS, they had American accents.
It’s bizarre to watch them side-by-side. The British version feels more "correct" given the source material, but the American voices have this nostalgic, Saturday-morning-cartoon energy that hits a very specific spot for Gen X. Beth Porter voiced the White Witch in both, and she was terrifying. She didn't play it like a cartoon villain; she played it like a cold, calculating dictator.
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Why the Animation Style Actually Worked
Modern CGI tries too hard to be real. In the 1979 cartoon, the White Witch’s castle looks like a jagged shard of glass against a bruised sky. It’s expressionistic. When Maugrim the wolf (the head of the Secret Police) appears, he isn't just a scary dog. He’s a shadow. He’s a silhouette of teeth and malice.
The animation was handled by a studio called Melendez Films in London. They used a lot of rotoscoping-adjacent techniques to get the movement of Aslan right. Aslan is notoriously hard to do. If he’s too realistic, he’s just a lion. If he’s too cartoonish, he’s Simba. The 1979 version found a middle ground. He looked ancient. He looked heavy. When he walks to the Stone Table, the pacing of the animation slows down, making every step feel like a funeral march.
The Turkish Delight Scene: A Masterclass in Temptation
We need to talk about the Turkish Delight. In the books, Lewis describes it as being so good Edmund would sell his soul for it. The 2005 movie made it look like dusty cubes of gelatin. But in the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe cartoon film, that candy looked like glowing, magical jewels.
The way the Witch’s dwarf drops the liquid onto the snow and it magically transforms? Pure 70s psych-magic. You totally get why Edmund ruins his life for a box of it. It’s one of the best examples of visual storytelling in the film because it uses the medium of animation to show something that feels truly supernatural, rather than just a special effect.
Key Differences from the Book
C.S. Lewis’s estate was famously picky about adaptations. For the most part, this film stays incredibly loyal, but there are some shifts.
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- The battle sequence is shortened significantly.
- The Professor’s house feels way more claustrophobic.
- The Father Christmas scene is included (it’s often cut in other versions).
- The ending moves fast—like, really fast.
The film focuses heavily on the atmosphere of Narnia being under a "hundred-year winter." You feel the cold. The artists used a lot of cool blues and greys that make the eventual arrival of spring feel like a genuine relief. When the flowers start popping up through the snow, the color palette shifts so aggressively that it’s almost jarring. It’s a brilliant use of color theory to tell a story of resurrection and hope.
The Sound of 1979 Narnia
The music was composed by Michael J. Lewis. It’s not a sweeping orchestral score like the Harry Potter films. It’s moody. It uses a lot of synthesizers mixed with traditional instruments. This was the era of The Black Cauldron and The Last Unicorn, where fantasy soundtracks were allowed to be "experimental."
The sound design is equally haunting. The sound of the Witch’s sleigh bells isn't cheery. It’s a high-pitched, rhythmic tinkle that signals dread. It’s those small choices that make this version stand out decades later. You aren't just watching a story; you’re being immersed in a specific aesthetic.
Why Does This Film Still Matter?
In a world of 4K resolution and AI-generated imagery, there’s a growing movement of people returning to hand-drawn animation. There’s a weight to it. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe cartoon film represents a time when creators took big swings with "children's" media. They weren't afraid to let things be scary or bleak.
The Stone Table scene? It’s brutal. Even though it’s just drawings, the way the creatures huddle around Aslan, the shadows cast by the torches—it’s heavy stuff for a TV special. It taught a whole generation about sacrifice and consequence without sugarcoating it.
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Finding the 1979 Version Today
Finding a high-quality version of this film is actually kind of a pain. It hasn't received the same massive restoration treatment that the Disney films or even the BBC series have. There was a DVD release in the early 2000s, but it's often out of print. Most fans rely on old VHS rips that circulate on YouTube or Archive.org.
In a way, the grainy, slightly degraded quality of these old rips actually adds to the experience. It feels like finding an old, dusty book in the back of a wardrobe. It feels like something that shouldn't exist, which is exactly how Narnia is supposed to feel.
How to Revisit the Magic
If you’re looking to dive back into this specific corner of Narnia nostalgia, don't just put it on in the background. You have to actually watch it. Pay attention to the background art. Look at the way the White Witch's hair moves.
- Search for the British vs. American versions. It’s worth hearing the difference in the Pevensie kids' voices to see which one fits your mental image of the book better.
- Look for the Melendez art style. If you’re an animation nerd, you’ll see echoes of the Peanuts specials in the character silhouettes, which is a wild crossover of styles.
- Check the credits. You’ll see names like Steven Melendez and even some early work from animators who would go on to work on much bigger projects in the 80s and 90s.
The 1979 the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe cartoon film isn't just a relic of the past. It's a reminder that animation is a powerful tool for capturing the "unreal." While live-action movies are limited by what a camera can capture or a computer can render, this cartoon was limited only by the artist’s hand. It captures the spirit of C.S. Lewis’s world in a way that feels more like a dream and less like a movie set.
To truly appreciate it, watch the Stone Table sequence back-to-back with the 2005 version. You’ll notice that while the modern version is "bigger," the 1979 version feels more intimate and, strangely, more frightening. That’s the power of hand-drawn art. It carries the intent of the artist in every line. If you haven't seen it since you were a kid, or if you've never seen it at all, it's time to track down a copy and step back through the wardrobe.
Next Steps for Narnia Fans
To get the most out of this classic, look for the "Remastered" versions floating around collector circles which try to clean up the 16mm film grain without losing the original color timing. If you're a physical media collector, keep an eye out for the 1991 secondary VHS release, which often has the best audio balance. For a deeper dive, compare the character designs of the 1979 film with the original Pauline Baynes illustrations from the books—you'll be surprised how many small details Melendez kept as a tribute to the source material.