Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Benh Zeitlin
Starring: Devin France, Yashua Mack, Gage Naquin, Gavin Naquin, Ahmad Cage, Krzysztof Meyn,
Romyri Ross
Although J.M. Barrie produced more than 40 published pieces -
ranging from poems, novellas, plays - the single work which the Scottish
author is remembered for is the creation of Peter Pan, a character who
first appeared in the 1902 novella 'The Little White Bird'. A run of the
‘J.M. Barrie’ name through Amazon initially causes an avalanche of Peter
Pan related works from other writers, and a more specific search only
turns up prolific editions - illustrated, adapted, annotated - of Barrie’s
‘Peter Pan’. His other works are almost all out of print (and also out of
copyright, consequently available digitally for cheap, qualified by the
legend ‘converted from its physical edition to the digital format by a
community of volunteers’, i.e. complete heroes). Perhaps Barrie had an
inkling that his arrested development imp would be his legacy, as he
featured Peter in five works (six, really, if we count the adaptation of
his own play into a novel). I mean, even Barrie’s eventual biopic was
called Neverland! The little boy staring in at the window gazes on, his influence upon
the lingua franca of pop culture manifest: from Michael Jackson to Joel
Schumacher, the iconography of Barrie’s 1904 play abides.
Peter Pan is one of those books more talked about than read, with everyone
grasping at least the perceived basics: immortal child, flight, pirates,
enchanted islands. But it’s the implied themes of Barrie’s work which are
so seductive to works which followed, the ideas of rejected adulthood,
responsibility, maternity. Adaptations range from the explicitly sexual
(Alan Moore and Melinda Gebbie’s 'Lost Girls' - it’s quite something) to
Joe Wright’s astounding flop
Pan
(2015).
Which brings us to Benh Zeitlin’s (script duties shared with
Eliza Zeitlin) Wendy, a modern recontextualization of the story set in contemporary Louisiana
(with a ruggedly handsome Montserrat standing in for Neverland). Wendy (Devin France) is one of a bunch of Darlings, but unlike the stuffy parents of
Victorian London, her single mom is a short order cook somewhere in
Shitkickersville La. The diner Ms Darling works in is situated by the rail
tracks heavily used by cargo trains which tear though the Deep South. With
her back to the aged clientele of the diner, Wendy stares all day out of
the dirty windows at these big metallic beasts roaring by, dreaming of
other places and the speed and excitement of a journey away from here.
I wasn’t crazy about Zeitlin’s re-imagining overall, but the invocation of
place throughout is deeply immersive. The cinematography is indie
verisimilitude in these early scenes, with overlapping dialogue and
handheld cameras; the representation is rough hewn Americana with Mother
Darling opining that she is ‘makin’ sure ah don’t screw ya’ll up too bad’.
Such homilies are not enough for Wendy and her kinsmen however, who, in
the dead of night, abscond with a dreadlocked urchin atop a speeding
train. They’re off to Neverneverland!
In a grubby school blazer, Peter is less the God Pan-inflected trickster
of Disney’s imaginings and more like a truant from Golding’s 'Lord of the
Flies'. He’s also more of a little kid than the smart-ass cavalier of
popular imagination; prone to tantrums and confusion. This is fateful
aspect of Wendy’s unworkable dichotomy, which is an immiscible of fantasy
and grit. Montserrat is gorgeous, but not in a way that would appeal to
kids-who-don’t-want-to-grow-up with its volcanic vistas and windy beaches.
Peter is bossy and petulant, too, leading kids on dangerous missions
rather than derring-dos, like the one which involves them winding up a
subaqueous beast and results in them losing one of their number.
The missing kid’s twin is understandably nonplussed by this turn of
events, and so defects to the other side of the island, where a community
of ‘olds’ reside: the aged previous lost boys who stopped believing and
consequently grew up. Not into adults, but tired octogenarians, riddled
with decrepitude and despair. It’s quite horrifying. Within the binary
diegesis of Wendy, you are either a pre-pubescent innocent or an aged stick in the mud.
Scarier still is when Peter takes it upon himself to cut off the hand of
the twin (James), for reasons, as if he’s escaped from
City of God. Like that film, in fact, Wendy has a restless perspective
which is at first intense, but here ultimately overwhelming. The film’s
focus on wide eyed child characters is too simplistic for adult viewers,
yet the violence and style would preclude most kids. There is a ‘see what
we did there’ quality when Barrie's Victorian imagery is transposed to
this barren milieu, but no refreshed application of metaphor or allegory.
Like its anti-hero, Wendy is stuck between adult ideas and
childish demonstrations.
Wendy is in UK/ROI cinemas from
August 13th.
