Blind Prophecy

Since seeing the trailer for Finding Neverland starring Johnny Depp as J.M. Barrie, I admit that I’ve become more interested in taking a closer look at both Barrie and the story of Peter Pan. I admit that I’ve never read any of Barrie’s original works, and I’m only familiar with the story through Disney’s animated version, a poor children’s theater adaptiation I saw in college and the movie Hook. I wasn’t planning on seeing the live-action version released last year, until I saw Roger Ebert rave about the adaptation. I’ve always trusted Ebert’s opinions on film – agreeing with him at least 75% of the time, so last week when I saw the DVD in the previously viewed bargain bin at Blockbuster, I picked it up.

My first impression of the film was “this is no children’s story, it’s kinda dark and sexual.” Well, from what I’ve read since then, apparently this is closer to the original than Disney dared to tread, but critics also say that the director (P.J. Hogan) put too much emphasis on this.

You be the judge. One of the central symbols of the film is “the hidden kiss.” Mary Darling has one and the 12-year-old Wendy Darling has just been discovered to have one. Maybe I’m a pervert (more on that in a minute) but my first thought was “hidden kiss=virginity/sex.” Sure enough, when Peter Pan appears, Wendy’s first images of him include 1) floating over her in bed, 2) viewed through a heart-shaped hole in the bedframe and 3) climbing into bed with her. As the movie progressed, there is a lovely scene in which Wendy and Peter see two fairies getting married and then engage in their own flying pas de deux. It’s a lovely and apparently innocent enough scene with the couple surrounded by fairies and embracing in the moon. Followed by Wendy’s need to talk about feelings and Peter’s running away. Again, years of anaylzing movie symbolism screamed at me “dancing=sex.” It finally culminated when Wendy finally does give Peter “the hidden kiss” and Peter literally explodes (with light and sound) and shoots up into the sky. If this isn’t a metaphor for losing your virginity in first love, I’ve just got a gutter mind.

On the subject of me being a pervert, Pan is played by a deliriously cute Jeremy Sumpter. I feel gross and dirty saying this, but if I were a 13-year-old, he’s exactly the kind of boy I’d want to lose my virginity to. Ew. Ew. I’m having sexual thoughts about a 15-year-old-actor. Someone call NAMBLA. (disclaimer: my ethics would never-ever allow me to actually do something like that. Special hell.)

Back to the movie. The whole film is filled with further images and symbols associated with young sexuality. When Pan returns to Neverland after recruiting Wendy and her brothers, winter gives way to spring-time. Pagan teachings this time make my mind jump to maidens, young sexuality, birth, and fertility. Hook’s hook is oddly phallic in and of itself – at one point he even stabs it threateningly towards Peter’s crotch in an unecessarily framed shot.

I made the mistake, on first viewing, of trying to interpret the world of Neverland through Wendy’s eyes. She is, after all, the narrator and constant on-screen character in this adaptation. While some of the story can be understood through the filter of her experience, it’s all about Peter. Hook represents Peter’s greatest fears, Tinkerbell represents childish emotion and childhood in general, the Lost Boys represent the family Peter has deliberately left behind (although they differ in being lost by their families, not leaving them by choice).

For Wendy, the moral of the story is in accepting that she must grow up. Bittersweet though it may be to put away her childish fancies, it is full of new adventures. If this were any less complex a morality tale, though, Peter would give up Neverland to join her. He does not.

Peter: I want always to be a boy and have fun.

Wendy: You say so, but I think it is your biggest pretend.

Wendy cuts to the heart of Peter’s character. He does, somehow, yearn to grow up. He does want to have that new adventure, but he chooses not to. He is the boy who will never grow up. In his defense, he asks Wendy if it would mean going to school and then going to an office, and she answers that it probably will. Honestly, if we knew with such stunning certainty what adulthood would mean when we were 13 years old, would we make the choice to grow up anyway?

But Peter’s impression of growing up is flawed. He can only see the drudgery and boredom. He can’t comprehend, as Wendy eventually does, that growing up is offset by thigns such as love, new adventures and expereinces which are forever denied to children, such as a deeper understanding of family.

In the final scene, the narrator describes Peter outside the window to the Darling home, looking in on the Lost Boys and their new family. She says Peter has many joys, but he was looking at “the one joy he must always be barred.” What is that, exactly? Family? Love? Wendy as wife and companion? Growing up? Maybe it’s a little of all of those, maybe it’s something less definable. At any rate, Peter chooses to fly away from it all. Perhaps children need one boy who won’t grow up to provide them with dreams of pirates and mermaids and fairies. Perhaps adults need it, too.

I didn’t participate in the Lord of the Flies book melee on ATPO because I didn’t have time to read the book, but I think the Lost Boys make a suitable subject for comparasin and contrast. In both cases, boys without adult supervision form their own society, with its own rules and deadly threat. Death is a constant possibilty for the Lost Boys, at not just at the hands of the creatures of the enchanted forest or pirates – when the boys (egged on by a jealous Tinkerbell) shoot Wendy out of the sky, the offending child seems prepared to be killed by Peter Pan in punishment. It should be noted that although the threat of being killed by Peter or one another seems like children playing at battle, in this world, the swords and arrows are real.

I read Gregory Maguire’s Lost a few months ago and there were two passages that came to mind while watching the live-action Peter Pan. In one passage, the central character muses on how identifiable London is from children’s stories. It’s true. A mere glance at the rooftops of the movie bring to mind thoughts of Mary Poppins a zillion other images of London (where I’ve never been) with a nostalgic feel as though I had actually grown up there at the turn of the century. The other passage I remembered was discussing the way Victorians might have been horrified at the idea of the Lost Boys. The only modern equivalent I can think of is 12-year-old street gangs. I guess the same might be said of Lord of the Flies. Were these books somehow prophetic in predicting that young boys, bereft of parental supervision, would turn their childish games into deadly violence? In the movie, if Wendy (in a role as “mother”) had not intervened, blood would have been shed between the children.

I said before that the movie was surprisingly dark and I meant it. Mermaids are portrayed as evil creatures who will drown you if they can. Peter himself gets scary in the moment he bares his teeth and hisses to frighten them away from Wendy. He can smirk and smart-alec his way through the rest of the film, but there was something feral and frightening in that one moment.

I had a high school English teacher who was trying to convince us that we could break down and analyze anything with the structure of a story. As an example, she made us watch an episode of Full House with those adorable Olsen twins pre-eating disorder. As we identified the structural parts of the story (i.e. conflict, rising action, etc.) she pointed out how easy it is to find the moral to every episode of the series. “It always happens when one of the adults sits down and pulls a child onto their knee.”

I mention this because one of the more interesting themes to the movie came about in a similar manner at the beginning of the film. Mrs. Darling, in defense of their shy father, pulls the children close to her lap and explains, “There are many types of bravery. There’s the kind of brave where you think of other’s first.” Peter never really finds this kind of bravery, although Wendy does at a pivitol moment in the story when she looks at Peter and realizes he’s “just a boy” and it’s time to take her brothers (and all the Lost Boys) home. She would love nothing more than to stay with Peter, to fight the pirates, to be a child forever… but she is reminded of her parents, and her brothers, and knows the correct course of action.

Peter sees this kind of self-sacrifice but doesn’t understand it until Tinkerbell saves him from being poisoned. I have to add that I was completely swept up in the “I do believe in fairies scene” and I’ll never believe that they don’t exist again. Even when Peter saves Tinkerbell, then Wendy and the Lost Boys, he’s still just showing bravery that benefits him.

Some left over thoughts: in Peter Pan we have a child’s understanding of metaphor. Dreams and shadows are physical things that can be put in a bow or a drawer. Kisses have magical power, a dog really can be a nursemaid and happy thoughts do make you fly. I think this is one of the reasons Peter Pan continues to captivate children and adults alike, it’s a fantasy land where anything truly is possible.

After his first fight with Wendy, Peter returns to the Darling home and attempts to sever the connection between Wendy and her parents (symbolized by the open window) and fails. Can it be that young love isn’t more powerful than the ties of family?

In a deleted alternate ending, Peter returns to find an adult Wendy telling her stories to her daughter. Wendy is tempted to go with him again, but realizes that she cannot. She lets her daughter go intead. I’m glad they deleted this ending. Although I loved the way Peter is horrified at the sight of adult Wendy, I cannot imagine a mother willingly let her child go into that dangerous world of Neverland. The daughter was also much younger than Wendy when she took her trip to Wonderland. I couldn’t suspend my disbelief for this.

Along with the theme of growing up is a theme of lost innocence. Wendy loses her innocence to Peter (not just in the sexual metaphor way I described earlier). In this sense, Pan represents the trickster, the tempter, the seducer.

Jason Isaacs as Mr. Darling/Captain Hook was fantastic. More sinsiter than any previous incarnation of the famous villian, and more human, too. One can only hope that he gets to bring this level of realism to his most famous role (in my circle anyway) – Lucius Malfoy in the Harry Potter movies. Certainly, I’d be more scared to meet Hook than Lucius so far.

Filed under: livejournal by Jere Keys