Last year, when the live-action "Peter Pan" (2003) soared into theaters, "Finding Neverland" - a kind of behind the scene look at the classic's rearing - was shelved.
Unfortunately for both films, the two needed each other (perhaps they should have been shown back to back in theaters). The modern-looking "Peter Pan" (2003) never got caught up in the fantasy that is Pan, relying too heavily on computer technology and not enough on fairy dust. "Finding Neverland" suffers the opposite effect: it retreats into its fantasies when it should be tearing them down.
The film, directed by Marc Forster (of "Monster's Ball" fame), is based on Alan Knee's play, "The Man Who Was Peter Pan." It tells the story of J.M. Barrie, the eccentric children-loving playwright who penned the kid classic.
Barrie (Johnny Depp), who is caught in a tepid relationship with his wife and a disastrously received play at the theater, meets Sylvia Davies (Kate Winslet) and her four boys in the park. The boys soon take to the odd man, playing games with him and acting out fantasies. It's also during this meeting that Ms. Davies tells Barrie about her husband, who, according to her, has been dead of "cancer of the jaw" for a year now.
This would be all well and good if it weren't for the fact that in real life, Sylvia's husband, Arthur, was in fact alive and well during this time. And apparently, he wasn't exactly thrilled with Barrie spending all of his time with his boys. So, wait a minute: is Sylvia lying to Barrie in the film or is there something even more devious going on?
It turns out that Sylvia isn't lying. For the purpose of the film, Forster and screenwriter David Magee decided to pluck the poor man right out from under his own roof and discard him.
To be fair, this killing off of Sylvia's husband isn't exactly an outrageous bowdlerization of the source material. It's simply the stuff of adaptation. Like so many films that are borne out of the lives of real individuals, certain events, and even people, are often expunged from the screen.
However, Forster's film could have used the drama. After all, the only individuals who even raise their eyebrows (besides a whole bunch of townspeople who you never actually see) at the man-child are Sylvia's mother (Julie Christie) and the most suspicious of the boys, Peter (Freddy Highmore). But, beyond these two characters - who both eventually fall for the charms of the playwright - there isn't much struggle to speak of.
Since no one will steal the fantastical carpet from under the boys' feet, nature eventually steps in to spoil the party. Sylvia turns ill, and after much prodding she finally agrees to see a doctor. Yet, even nature is airbrushed, as the lung cancer that the real Sylvia suffered is turned into an inconvenient cough.
Perhaps the biggest expurgation of all may be in the film's depiction of how Barrie comes to acquire guardianship of the boys. According to the film, Sylvia left the boys to both her mother and Barrie. In reality, however, Barrie forged Davies' will in order to gain guardianship of the boys.
Why Forster rids his film of such a fascinating conclusion is beyond me. You can't write a better ending than that, and Magee doesn't.
This is not to say that "Finding Neverland" is completely barren. In fact, it's almost impossible not to revel in the magical theater scenes that grace the screen toward the end.
Take, for instance, what the film does with a soaring Peter Pan, who is emptied from a camera shot in order to allow a theaterful of wannabe Pans to take flight in his place. It's a common enough technique - countless video games utilize this kind of first person perspective camerawork - but Forster somehow manages to make it seem fresh.
"Finding Neverland" has another thing going for it: Johnny Depp. The actor is at times wonderfully mystifying in his role as the wacky playwright.
Yet Depp, for all of his talents, gives too pristine a performance to actually make up for the film's shortcomings. Somehow Barrie's quirks don't feel genuine. For a man who spends his days inventing elaborate pirate and Indian fantasies, Barrie comes off like the guy next door. Depp's performance is too much of Ned Flanders and not enough of Captain Jack.
There is an intriguing story beneath the pretense of "Finding Neverland." Yet in its quest to expurgate anything that might offend its audience, it manages to drain much of the real drama as well.
When the actress playing Wendy calls out for her children in the midst of the stage version of "Peter Pan," she is referring, of course, to the orphans that Forster has invited to the production. "Finding Neverland," in its tidy treatment of all things Pan, calls out to children in much the same way.
But, unlike Barrie, Forster will find that his audience isn't full of orphans: only adults who know better than to believe in such fairytales.<$>
