6/10
Childhood Erodes When Anonymity Does
15 November 2017
The Great War has left Britain in a fog, stuttering to find appropriate entertainment. Alan Milne has emerged from the trenches to the stage, and mistakes spotlights for turret fire. While introducing his first post-war production, mythical bees hover around his battered creative sphere.

Comedy plays became outdated with his brothers' carcasses. Alan is dead set on chronicling the atrocities that ransacked Europe, but his schedule is full of dinner parties requiring top notch smiles. The urban bustle does not just affect his writing, but also his connection to the newborn that has practically been handed to a surrogate mother.

Billy Moon is the little boy's name in the Milne's house, but Christopher Robin is the name that appears on the birth certificate and in millions of hardbacks. Billy's nanny, Olive, has becomes the child's compass in an ever evolving media circus that goes unnoticed by the man who stirred it up.

Alan has turned writing break play dates into research as he plagiarizes his son's blossoming creativity. His pursuits of an anti-war manifesto shifts to fiscally minded child book authorship. The exploits of this extracurricular bonding are resounded in a revealing exchange:

Billy asks his father, "Are you writing a book? I thought we were just having fun?" Alan answers, "We're writing a book and we're having fun."

Roping his son into this deceptive co-authorship will create a damaging identity crisis for the boy as he grows in an age where another Great War is brewing. The Christopher Robin and the blush toys offer a touchstone of comfort for aching families across the globe, but the cost for this phenomena is a childhood robbery.
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