Second to the right, and then straight on till morning.
Peter Pan The Movie directed by PJ Hogan is just brilliant. Those who were emotionally scarred and traumatised by watching a hairy Robbie Williams play Peter Pan in that horrid Hook movie can recover simply by sitting through this.
For a film adaptation, Peter Pan is surprisingly faithful to the text. I suppose this says more about me than the movie but I was happy to be able to sprout silently the exact lines the various characters were to say in various scenes. Especially the opening bits that have Wendy and Peter meeting, her sewing on his shadow blah blah...it's all so terribly fascinating to see your favourite childhood book put on the big screen and having the big screen do justice to your imagination and expectations.
The cast is dreadfully perfect, especially the main leads. Jeremy Sumpter, as Peter, is a charming dream of dashing cockiness and vulnerability. Wendy (Rachel Hurd-Wood {oh those lovely cascading locks of curls!!!}) has the correct blend of feminity, motherliness and blossoming female-ness. Together, the two are quite electrifying as they attempt to seduce and taunt each other in the way only children can, without quite realising what they are doing. The way Wendy slyly lures Peter into inviting her to Neverland and Peter coaxing her from the blankets, tempting her when she backs down from wanting to go; such tango-ing...one step forward and two steps back are as usual, disconcertingly familiar and also, especially enchanting :) What I love best about this adaptation is the acuity and sensitivity with which it draws out the connection between the pair and their half-formed, half-baked, half-conscious and half-realised desires (The movie also made me re-think about the whole thimble and kiss narrative cum scene. It depicted Wendy as coy and somewhat plotting (conniving even!!), whereas I have always, based on the text, read her as less precocious at least where relationships were concerned). After all, Peter Pan is first and foremost a love story to me and I am glad to see that love is so nuanced and properly delivered with dignity and aplomb.
It also has Jason Isaacs taking on both the roles of Mr Darling and Hook. Which I thought is very cool 'coz it brings out the dark themes absolutely well. In case this obvious point is lost you, both movie and text do not have an ideal (whatever ideal means but let's just take this generally) man/male figure one can emulate and be proud of. Hook is bitter and let-down; Mr Darling is a repressed wimp, too worried and wussy. The pathos and pain of leaving a perfectly respectable childhood (which loosely means engaging in "manly" swashbuckling and being the confident leader of a brood that thinks the world of you), juxtaposed against the pitfalls of growing up into someone so inept and despised, one can understand why Peter Pan rejects becoming a man. Having the same actor playing the two roles only reinforces the stultification and straitjacketing of the grow-up-man role, as if there can never be a breakthrough or the exception. One is condemned to being boring and lame!!! Oh the shame and misery!! Of course, by such casting, incestuous themes and paedophilic tendencies are bandied around when we see how Wendy appears to be strangely attracted to Hook too, and Hook, equally drawn to her. Yay, complexities, layers!!! What a great movie!!
The only miscast, I felt was Tiger Lily, even though she only had a bit role. But I can overlook that. I am also fine with the false movie fact that she had the hots for Wendy's brother.
The movie had a happy ending compared to the text. The actual ending is very sad... at least for me, I am always upset by it. See, in the original story, Peter has an extremely short term memory. He promises Wendy that he will return and take her to Neverland with him once every year. But because he forgets, eventually it was years before he came for her (the following italics are excerpts from the text):
Peter came next spring cleaning; and the strange thing was that he never knew he had missed a year.
That was the last time the girl Wendy ever saw him. For a little longer she tried for his sake not to have growing pains; and she felt she was untrue to him when she got a prize for general knowledge. But the years came and went without bringing the careless boy; and when they met again Wendy was a married woman, and Peter was no more to her than a little dust in the box in which she had kept her toys. Wendy was grown up. You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than other girls.
Wendy was married in white with a pink sash. It is strange to think that Peter did not alight in the church and forbid the banns [formal announcement of a marriage].
And then one night came the tragedy. It was the spring of the year, and the story had been told for the night, and Jane was now asleep in her bed. Wendy was sitting on the floor, very close to the fire, so as to see to darn, for there was no other light in the nursery; and while she sat darning she heard a crow. Then the window blew open as of old, and Peter dropped in on the floor.
He was exactly the same as ever, and Wendy saw at once that he still had all his first teeth.
He was a little boy, and she was grown up. She huddled by the fire not daring to move, helpless and guilty, a big woman.
"Hullo, Wendy," he said, not noticing any difference, for he was thinking chiefly of himself; and in the dim light her white dress might have been the nightgown in which he had seen her first.
"Hullo, Peter," she replied faintly, squeezing herself as small as possible. Something inside her was crying Woman, Woman, let go of me."
"Hullo, where is John?" he asked, suddenly missing the third bed.
"John is not here now," she gasped.
"Is Michael asleep?" he asked, with a careless glance at Jane.
"Yes," she answered; and now she felt that she was untrue to Jane as well as to Peter.
"That is not Michael," she said quickly, lest a judgment should fall on her.
Peter looked. "Hullo, is it a new one?"
"Yes."
"Boy or girl?"
"Girl."
Now surely he would understand; but not a bit of it.
"Peter," she said, faltering, "are you expecting me to fly away with you?"
"Of course; that is why I have come." He added a little sternly, "Have you forgotten that this is spring cleaning time?"
She knew it was useless to say that he had let many spring cleaning times pass.
"I can't come," she said apologetically, "I have forgotten how to fly."
"I'll soon teach you again."
"O Peter, don't waste the fairy dust on me."
She had risen; and now at last a fear assailed him. "What is it?" he cried, shrinking.
"I will turn up the light," she said, "and then you can see for yourself."
For almost the only time in his life that I know of, Peter was afraid. "Don't turn up the light," he cried.
She let her hands play in the hair of the tragic boy. She was not a little girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet eyed smiles.
Then she turned up the light, and Peter saw. He gave a cry of pain; and when the tall beautiful creature stooped to lift him in her arms he drew back sharply.
"What is it?" he cried again.
She had to tell him.
"I am old, Peter. I am ever so much more than twenty. I grew up long ago."
"You promised not to!"
"I couldn't help it. I am a married woman, Peter."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, and the little girl in the bed is my baby."
"No, she's not."
But he supposed she was; and he took a step towards the sleeping child with his dagger upraised. Of course he did not strike. He sat down on the floor instead and sobbed; and Wendy did not know how to comfort him, though she could have done it so easily once. She was only a woman now, and she ran out of the room to try to think.
Peter continued to cry.
So Peter took her daughter, Jane instead:
When Wendy returned diffidently she found Peter sitting on the bed-post crowing gloriously, while Jane in her nighty was flying round the room in solemn ecstasy.
"She is my mother," Peter explained; and Jane descended and stood by his side, with the look in her face that he liked to see on ladies when they gazed at him.
"He does so need a mother," Jane said.
"Yes, I know." Wendy admitted rather forlornly; "no one knows it so well as I."
"Good-bye," said Peter to Wendy; and he rose in the air, and the shameless Jane rose with him; it was already her easiest way of moving about.
Wendy rushed to the window.
"No, no," she cried.
"It is just for spring cleaning time," Jane said, "he wants me always to do his spring cleaning."
"If only I could go with you," Wendy sighed.
"You see you can't fly," said Jane.
Of course in the end Wendy let them fly away together. Our last glimpse of her shows her at the window, watching them receding into the sky until they were as small as stars.
As you look at Wendy, you may see her hair becoming white, and her figure little again, for all this happened long ago. Jane is now a common grown-up, with a daughter called Margaret; and every spring cleaning time, except when he forgets, Peter comes for Margaret and takes her to the Neverland, where she tells him stories about himself, to which he listens eagerly. When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter, who is to be Peter's mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless.
I never fail to be saddened by the book, no matter how many times I reread it. Oh yes, I do own a version of the text.
But this film adaptation will be the definitive classic, mark my words. It's so incredibly buoyant with sentimentality, compassion and well, sexual, forbidden tension, and also weighed down as equally by its dark counterparts like having to grow up (deformed for sure)...
I do believe in fairies...and fairy tales! While I always doubted Santa Claus, I did believe seriously in Peter Pan and the tooth fairy for quite a short while.
Must remember to buy Bee Gees album tomorrow.
Peter Pan The Movie directed by PJ Hogan is just brilliant. Those who were emotionally scarred and traumatised by watching a hairy Robbie Williams play Peter Pan in that horrid Hook movie can recover simply by sitting through this.
For a film adaptation, Peter Pan is surprisingly faithful to the text. I suppose this says more about me than the movie but I was happy to be able to sprout silently the exact lines the various characters were to say in various scenes. Especially the opening bits that have Wendy and Peter meeting, her sewing on his shadow blah blah...it's all so terribly fascinating to see your favourite childhood book put on the big screen and having the big screen do justice to your imagination and expectations.
The cast is dreadfully perfect, especially the main leads. Jeremy Sumpter, as Peter, is a charming dream of dashing cockiness and vulnerability. Wendy (Rachel Hurd-Wood {oh those lovely cascading locks of curls!!!}) has the correct blend of feminity, motherliness and blossoming female-ness. Together, the two are quite electrifying as they attempt to seduce and taunt each other in the way only children can, without quite realising what they are doing. The way Wendy slyly lures Peter into inviting her to Neverland and Peter coaxing her from the blankets, tempting her when she backs down from wanting to go; such tango-ing...one step forward and two steps back are as usual, disconcertingly familiar and also, especially enchanting :) What I love best about this adaptation is the acuity and sensitivity with which it draws out the connection between the pair and their half-formed, half-baked, half-conscious and half-realised desires (The movie also made me re-think about the whole thimble and kiss narrative cum scene. It depicted Wendy as coy and somewhat plotting (conniving even!!), whereas I have always, based on the text, read her as less precocious at least where relationships were concerned). After all, Peter Pan is first and foremost a love story to me and I am glad to see that love is so nuanced and properly delivered with dignity and aplomb.
It also has Jason Isaacs taking on both the roles of Mr Darling and Hook. Which I thought is very cool 'coz it brings out the dark themes absolutely well. In case this obvious point is lost you, both movie and text do not have an ideal (whatever ideal means but let's just take this generally) man/male figure one can emulate and be proud of. Hook is bitter and let-down; Mr Darling is a repressed wimp, too worried and wussy. The pathos and pain of leaving a perfectly respectable childhood (which loosely means engaging in "manly" swashbuckling and being the confident leader of a brood that thinks the world of you), juxtaposed against the pitfalls of growing up into someone so inept and despised, one can understand why Peter Pan rejects becoming a man. Having the same actor playing the two roles only reinforces the stultification and straitjacketing of the grow-up-man role, as if there can never be a breakthrough or the exception. One is condemned to being boring and lame!!! Oh the shame and misery!! Of course, by such casting, incestuous themes and paedophilic tendencies are bandied around when we see how Wendy appears to be strangely attracted to Hook too, and Hook, equally drawn to her. Yay, complexities, layers!!! What a great movie!!
The only miscast, I felt was Tiger Lily, even though she only had a bit role. But I can overlook that. I am also fine with the false movie fact that she had the hots for Wendy's brother.
The movie had a happy ending compared to the text. The actual ending is very sad... at least for me, I am always upset by it. See, in the original story, Peter has an extremely short term memory. He promises Wendy that he will return and take her to Neverland with him once every year. But because he forgets, eventually it was years before he came for her (the following italics are excerpts from the text):
Peter came next spring cleaning; and the strange thing was that he never knew he had missed a year.
That was the last time the girl Wendy ever saw him. For a little longer she tried for his sake not to have growing pains; and she felt she was untrue to him when she got a prize for general knowledge. But the years came and went without bringing the careless boy; and when they met again Wendy was a married woman, and Peter was no more to her than a little dust in the box in which she had kept her toys. Wendy was grown up. You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than other girls.
Wendy was married in white with a pink sash. It is strange to think that Peter did not alight in the church and forbid the banns [formal announcement of a marriage].
And then one night came the tragedy. It was the spring of the year, and the story had been told for the night, and Jane was now asleep in her bed. Wendy was sitting on the floor, very close to the fire, so as to see to darn, for there was no other light in the nursery; and while she sat darning she heard a crow. Then the window blew open as of old, and Peter dropped in on the floor.
He was exactly the same as ever, and Wendy saw at once that he still had all his first teeth.
He was a little boy, and she was grown up. She huddled by the fire not daring to move, helpless and guilty, a big woman.
"Hullo, Wendy," he said, not noticing any difference, for he was thinking chiefly of himself; and in the dim light her white dress might have been the nightgown in which he had seen her first.
"Hullo, Peter," she replied faintly, squeezing herself as small as possible. Something inside her was crying Woman, Woman, let go of me."
"Hullo, where is John?" he asked, suddenly missing the third bed.
"John is not here now," she gasped.
"Is Michael asleep?" he asked, with a careless glance at Jane.
"Yes," she answered; and now she felt that she was untrue to Jane as well as to Peter.
"That is not Michael," she said quickly, lest a judgment should fall on her.
Peter looked. "Hullo, is it a new one?"
"Yes."
"Boy or girl?"
"Girl."
Now surely he would understand; but not a bit of it.
"Peter," she said, faltering, "are you expecting me to fly away with you?"
"Of course; that is why I have come." He added a little sternly, "Have you forgotten that this is spring cleaning time?"
She knew it was useless to say that he had let many spring cleaning times pass.
"I can't come," she said apologetically, "I have forgotten how to fly."
"I'll soon teach you again."
"O Peter, don't waste the fairy dust on me."
She had risen; and now at last a fear assailed him. "What is it?" he cried, shrinking.
"I will turn up the light," she said, "and then you can see for yourself."
For almost the only time in his life that I know of, Peter was afraid. "Don't turn up the light," he cried.
She let her hands play in the hair of the tragic boy. She was not a little girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet eyed smiles.
Then she turned up the light, and Peter saw. He gave a cry of pain; and when the tall beautiful creature stooped to lift him in her arms he drew back sharply.
"What is it?" he cried again.
She had to tell him.
"I am old, Peter. I am ever so much more than twenty. I grew up long ago."
"You promised not to!"
"I couldn't help it. I am a married woman, Peter."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, and the little girl in the bed is my baby."
"No, she's not."
But he supposed she was; and he took a step towards the sleeping child with his dagger upraised. Of course he did not strike. He sat down on the floor instead and sobbed; and Wendy did not know how to comfort him, though she could have done it so easily once. She was only a woman now, and she ran out of the room to try to think.
Peter continued to cry.
So Peter took her daughter, Jane instead:
When Wendy returned diffidently she found Peter sitting on the bed-post crowing gloriously, while Jane in her nighty was flying round the room in solemn ecstasy.
"She is my mother," Peter explained; and Jane descended and stood by his side, with the look in her face that he liked to see on ladies when they gazed at him.
"He does so need a mother," Jane said.
"Yes, I know." Wendy admitted rather forlornly; "no one knows it so well as I."
"Good-bye," said Peter to Wendy; and he rose in the air, and the shameless Jane rose with him; it was already her easiest way of moving about.
Wendy rushed to the window.
"No, no," she cried.
"It is just for spring cleaning time," Jane said, "he wants me always to do his spring cleaning."
"If only I could go with you," Wendy sighed.
"You see you can't fly," said Jane.
Of course in the end Wendy let them fly away together. Our last glimpse of her shows her at the window, watching them receding into the sky until they were as small as stars.
As you look at Wendy, you may see her hair becoming white, and her figure little again, for all this happened long ago. Jane is now a common grown-up, with a daughter called Margaret; and every spring cleaning time, except when he forgets, Peter comes for Margaret and takes her to the Neverland, where she tells him stories about himself, to which he listens eagerly. When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter, who is to be Peter's mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless.
I never fail to be saddened by the book, no matter how many times I reread it. Oh yes, I do own a version of the text.
But this film adaptation will be the definitive classic, mark my words. It's so incredibly buoyant with sentimentality, compassion and well, sexual, forbidden tension, and also weighed down as equally by its dark counterparts like having to grow up (deformed for sure)...
I do believe in fairies...and fairy tales! While I always doubted Santa Claus, I did believe seriously in Peter Pan and the tooth fairy for quite a short while.
Must remember to buy Bee Gees album tomorrow.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home