Description:
A boy, who will never grow up, takes three Edwardian children to a land that
never was.
They did all sorts of things
right with this movie. Peter is actually played by a 13 year old boy. Not a
girl, not a man, not a woman, a boy.
Also, per the way it is
played on stage, the same actor who plays Mr. Darling, plays Captain Hook.
These two choices incredibly
enrich the flavor of the story. The sense of young girl awakening to
adulthood.
This is a beautiful land that
never was, which really is beyond the second star to the right and straight on
till morning.
I never really saw Peter
Pan as a story of awakening sexuality, but there it is, trembling on the vine.
Almost teenager. Almost adult. It’s there in Peter’s boyish glances, all
uncomprehending. In Wendy’s mouth. Mother. Father. These two teen actors have
tremendous chemistry.
It's there in Tink’s jealousy. In
Hook’s color and moods and words. I never realized,
of course, Hook wears red. Rich, soft, deep as hearts, red. And cold blue eyes
that Wendy sees and is not afraid. How could she, when Hook is her father.
For some reason, I always saw this as Peter’s story, but it isn’t. It’s
Wendy’s. Little girl growing.
Wendy, who dreamed of being a pirate once upon a time
and is being told that she must grow up, put on a corset and be a woman. Wendy, who stands on the edge of this skerry of the Dreaming and tells
stories that we see realized in characters. Pirates with hands on backwards and all over tattoos and
Indians and mermaids. But the mermaids here are not sweet, they are dark dreaming creatures
of the deep. And this is not a sanitized children's story. Which is to say
that is a world that any child would recognize. Children aren't particularly
sanitized.
It didn’t take much to spin out of the theatre and believe in black castles
under cotton candy clouds and vast seas that hold stars and words and stories
and skerries on the edge of Dreaming. To say, “I believe.”
Description: Your kidding me right? The epic end of an epic quest.
Now then, some serious appreciation, brought to you by the letter T.
T is for Trebouchet.
1. “I am no man.” The reason I tried to read the books when I was a kid.
Afraid, wounded, but facing the Witch-king anyway.
2. Legolas, Legolas, Legolas. Oliphant. Legolas. Good stuff.
3. Gimli, Gimli, Gimli, “Certain death, no chance of success, well sure
let’s go.”
4. The Rohirrim in a thin crescent charging the vast sea of enemy was the narrow edge by which we hold
onto hope. “Rohan will answer.” Theoden’s speech before the charge. Well, I may be a woman, but I cried the manly
tears.
5. The oliphants.
6. Pippin’s song, as all unseen soldiers to obscure death rode. Not once
more into the breach, but over top into no-man’s land. Sweetness in shire
and love’s flowers behind and darkness ahead.
7. The lighting of the signal fires. Connection written in distant lights
strung from peak to peak.
8. The use of lighting in general. Old, worn symbols are the best.
9. That army of the dead sweeping like a plague. Their longing to
rest tied nicely with Gandalf’s explanation of the next step in life’s
journey.
10. “Don’t you leave me behind where I can’t follow.” Sam as the heart of
the story, supporting the
failing, and increasingly angelic, Frodo. Fellowship indeed. Sniff. Purely manly tears.
Description: A non-conformist teacher, a conformist university
in the 1950s. An interesting play on the formula in which things did not play out
entirely as I expected.