On a bright, cold January day, I step into a D.C. taxicab to take a ride down to the National Mall. My driver’s eyes light up when I ask him to take me to the National Gallery of Art, and he immediately asks what type of art I prefer. That’s because Ali Shoja is not only a taxi driver; he is an artist.

When I first heard that New Line Cinema was making a movie of Philip Pullman’s classic novel The Golden Compass, I was wary. “Oh no,” I thought, “here we go again: another big-budget fantasy movie, high on the visuals and low on the character development, with enough material from the book to placate fans but not enough heft to stand on its own two feet.”