The premise and initial set-up are awesome, a bold and imaginative revisiting of an oft-told tale, in this case the Peter Pan story. (Worthy of mention: the story idea and screenplay are by James V. Hart, who provided another such awesome re-imagining of familiar material with his next film, BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA - then followed it through with a clunky and discombobulated narrative.)
The early scenes in London are great. A magical look and feel is established, with an undertone of both menace and wistful regret that gives the movie the feel of a classic in the making. Also, Julia Roberts is absolutely dead-on perfect as Tinkerbell - tomboy and coquette in equal measure, and totally captivating (overall, I don't get the whole Julia Roberts "thing" and in general think she's way overrated, but I do love her here). Robin Williams . . . well, he's just Robin Williams in the early going, I'm afraid; doesn't really create a character so much as be himself - but what the heck, it feels appropriate. Plenty of time for him to transform himself into Peter Pan later.
Problem is, though, he never does. I'm not sure that any grown-up male could convincingly portray Peter Pan (although Martin Short probably could give it a good shot), but Williams never even looks like he's trying. He keeps up a steady stream of one-liners which are funny, but ultimately distracting. They keep him too aloof from the proceedings, and that's death in a story of this kind. I know that in some ways it's an intangible kind of criticism, but he simply never BECOMES Pan, and so the film - whatever its other merits - is simply dead in the water.
Not that it has particularly too many other merits, anyway, once it arrives in Neverland. Once again, it may simply be impossible for any set or movie-created environment to be as evocative and full of wonder as the one we carry around in our heads concerning this mythical place. Still, what the film-makers come up with here for a setting is ugly and pedestrian beyond belief. The whole thing *looks* like a movie set, and a particularly cheesy one at that. Ed Wood or Roger Corman would be at home on this set, but it's not what we would expect from Steven Spielberg - nor, indeed, what is suggested by the wondrous opening London segment which preceded it (did they blow their whole set design budget on the first fifteen minutes?)
The Lost Boys, too: okay, I get what Spielberg was going for, and on the face of it maybe it's not even a bad idea (though I'm prepared to say that yes it is) - the boys not as Victorian waifs and innocents but rather as more closely akin to a present day junior high school class, complete with modern lingo and attitudes. Problem is, as executed, it just comes across as The Goonies in elfin dress, with all the dumb humor and clunky writing intact. Come on now, a food fight! A "turf war" between Peter and the would-be East Compton homeboy? Arsenio Hall-like "whoo-whoo" dawg pound salutes? Updating something for the modern age is one thing, Steven, but dumbing down your material in order to pander to the Nike generation of kids is just embarrassing.
What is really a shame, though, aren't the bad elements per se - it's that the good stuff really is deserving of greater material surrounding it. First and foremost: the title character himself. Dustin Hoffman just OWNS this role, I mean he really, absolutely just NAILS it. As a matter of fact, what he comes up with here as a characterization is so startling and completely out of left field (the best way to describe it being William F. Buckley and Long John Silver inhabiting the same body), but so wonderfully appropriate and uncannily *right* . . . that it's disappointing when we realize how poorly written and developed this character is going to be. Aside from what Hoffman puts across as a performer, the script never makes Captain Hook really menacing, or even particularly intelligent (his cartoonish sidekick Smee being, jarringly, the real brains of the operation). In fact, he's such a buffoonish character - full of empty threats with no backbone or follow through - that he's not even a worthy antagonist. Perhaps Spielberg was trying to soft-peddle the danger, in order not to make the movie too scary for little kids - but unfortunately, what we're left with is a powder-puff villain. Inevitably, then, our investment in the hero's struggle against him is greatly lessened.
Even that may not have mattered so much if the film could have found a way to better utilize and sustain its most brilliant conceit : the revelation, halfway through, of what finally caused Peter to want to grow up and leave Neverland . . . the chance to be a *father.* This particular sequence is handled beautifully, and brought tears to my eyes. It gives his character real tragic dimension, as we realize that his failures as a dad are not simply unfair to his kids, but a betrayal of the best part of his nature. Then there is the delicious irony that Peter's "happy thought" - which restores him to his full former glory - is that of holding his child in his arms for the first time. This completely floored me, and suggested a much deeper and more well-thought out premise: that the real enemy to be feared and fought against is not Hook (he's just the catalyst for the story), but in fact Peter's own divided nature.
Alas, the film settles for the convention of the "climactic showdown" and a not very well-earned (or justified) "happy ending." But, it seems to me, it could have been so much more.
The early scenes in London are great. A magical look and feel is established, with an undertone of both menace and wistful regret that gives the movie the feel of a classic in the making. Also, Julia Roberts is absolutely dead-on perfect as Tinkerbell - tomboy and coquette in equal measure, and totally captivating (overall, I don't get the whole Julia Roberts "thing" and in general think she's way overrated, but I do love her here). Robin Williams . . . well, he's just Robin Williams in the early going, I'm afraid; doesn't really create a character so much as be himself - but what the heck, it feels appropriate. Plenty of time for him to transform himself into Peter Pan later.
Problem is, though, he never does. I'm not sure that any grown-up male could convincingly portray Peter Pan (although Martin Short probably could give it a good shot), but Williams never even looks like he's trying. He keeps up a steady stream of one-liners which are funny, but ultimately distracting. They keep him too aloof from the proceedings, and that's death in a story of this kind. I know that in some ways it's an intangible kind of criticism, but he simply never BECOMES Pan, and so the film - whatever its other merits - is simply dead in the water.
Not that it has particularly too many other merits, anyway, once it arrives in Neverland. Once again, it may simply be impossible for any set or movie-created environment to be as evocative and full of wonder as the one we carry around in our heads concerning this mythical place. Still, what the film-makers come up with here for a setting is ugly and pedestrian beyond belief. The whole thing *looks* like a movie set, and a particularly cheesy one at that. Ed Wood or Roger Corman would be at home on this set, but it's not what we would expect from Steven Spielberg - nor, indeed, what is suggested by the wondrous opening London segment which preceded it (did they blow their whole set design budget on the first fifteen minutes?)
The Lost Boys, too: okay, I get what Spielberg was going for, and on the face of it maybe it's not even a bad idea (though I'm prepared to say that yes it is) - the boys not as Victorian waifs and innocents but rather as more closely akin to a present day junior high school class, complete with modern lingo and attitudes. Problem is, as executed, it just comes across as The Goonies in elfin dress, with all the dumb humor and clunky writing intact. Come on now, a food fight! A "turf war" between Peter and the would-be East Compton homeboy? Arsenio Hall-like "whoo-whoo" dawg pound salutes? Updating something for the modern age is one thing, Steven, but dumbing down your material in order to pander to the Nike generation of kids is just embarrassing.
What is really a shame, though, aren't the bad elements per se - it's that the good stuff really is deserving of greater material surrounding it. First and foremost: the title character himself. Dustin Hoffman just OWNS this role, I mean he really, absolutely just NAILS it. As a matter of fact, what he comes up with here as a characterization is so startling and completely out of left field (the best way to describe it being William F. Buckley and Long John Silver inhabiting the same body), but so wonderfully appropriate and uncannily *right* . . . that it's disappointing when we realize how poorly written and developed this character is going to be. Aside from what Hoffman puts across as a performer, the script never makes Captain Hook really menacing, or even particularly intelligent (his cartoonish sidekick Smee being, jarringly, the real brains of the operation). In fact, he's such a buffoonish character - full of empty threats with no backbone or follow through - that he's not even a worthy antagonist. Perhaps Spielberg was trying to soft-peddle the danger, in order not to make the movie too scary for little kids - but unfortunately, what we're left with is a powder-puff villain. Inevitably, then, our investment in the hero's struggle against him is greatly lessened.
Even that may not have mattered so much if the film could have found a way to better utilize and sustain its most brilliant conceit : the revelation, halfway through, of what finally caused Peter to want to grow up and leave Neverland . . . the chance to be a *father.* This particular sequence is handled beautifully, and brought tears to my eyes. It gives his character real tragic dimension, as we realize that his failures as a dad are not simply unfair to his kids, but a betrayal of the best part of his nature. Then there is the delicious irony that Peter's "happy thought" - which restores him to his full former glory - is that of holding his child in his arms for the first time. This completely floored me, and suggested a much deeper and more well-thought out premise: that the real enemy to be feared and fought against is not Hook (he's just the catalyst for the story), but in fact Peter's own divided nature.
Alas, the film settles for the convention of the "climactic showdown" and a not very well-earned (or justified) "happy ending." But, it seems to me, it could have been so much more.