When watching this movie, with it's deterministic cause and effect, wall-to-wall clichés and hackneyed sentiment, can anyone be so naive as to think that this is actually how Barrie's life played out? You watch it in a posture of disagreement. Hollywood biopics aren't based on the individual lives anymore, they're just rewrites of previously successful biopics. If Hollywood made a movie about your life it would be filled with such perfect synchronization that you'd barely recognize your own story. Any personal complexity would be obliterated by some all-explaining, simplistic backstory. Your story would resemble "Rocky" because it's the only life-arc Hollywood knows how to produce anymore. We couldn't leave the audience pondering anything left open-ended as they exit. This movie doesn't trust an audience to figure things out without being led to them. I perceived the captain hook/mother reference eons before the movie literalized it for me. I could see the 25 kids twist coming for days.
This is a completely average movie. Not horrible but not great. Hence it's likely to be showered with a few Oscars next year. There's nothing the Academy likes better than congratulating itself for finally noticing patterns put in place over the previous thirty years.
From the New Yorker article "Lost Boys" by ANTHONY LANE:
"Arthur Llewelyn Davies, also adored his boys, and it may be unfair of "Finding Neverland" to omit him, for streamlining purposes, from the scene; by the time that Johnny Depp meets Kate Winslet, she is already a widow, whereas Arthur was very much alive when Barrie first entered the consciousnessand, little by little, the homeof the Llewellyn Davies family.
"Finding Neverland" is a weepie. From the moment that Barrie met George and Jack, and started to ponder the means by which they might be rendered immortal, the story is sad, but the reality is even more dismal: 1907Arthur Llewellyn Davies dies from cancer of the jaw. 1910Sylvia dies of lung cancer. The five boys are orphaned; Barrie is made their guardian. 1915George is killed in the First World War, fighting with his regiment in Flanders. 1921Michael, an undergraduate at Oxford, is drowned while swimming with a friend. The two bodies, when recovered, are found clinging together.
On April 5, 1960, Peter Llewellyn Davies, by then an esteemed publisher, threw himself under a subway train in London. We should not presume to read a mind in torment, but we may note in passing that, if he had lived another month, he would have reached the centenary of Barrie's birth and thus, one imagines, a fresh flurry of interest in "Peter Pan""that terrible masterpiece," in the words of Peter Llewellyn Davies.
This is a completely average movie. Not horrible but not great. Hence it's likely to be showered with a few Oscars next year. There's nothing the Academy likes better than congratulating itself for finally noticing patterns put in place over the previous thirty years.
From the New Yorker article "Lost Boys" by ANTHONY LANE:
"Arthur Llewelyn Davies, also adored his boys, and it may be unfair of "Finding Neverland" to omit him, for streamlining purposes, from the scene; by the time that Johnny Depp meets Kate Winslet, she is already a widow, whereas Arthur was very much alive when Barrie first entered the consciousnessand, little by little, the homeof the Llewellyn Davies family.
"Finding Neverland" is a weepie. From the moment that Barrie met George and Jack, and started to ponder the means by which they might be rendered immortal, the story is sad, but the reality is even more dismal: 1907Arthur Llewellyn Davies dies from cancer of the jaw. 1910Sylvia dies of lung cancer. The five boys are orphaned; Barrie is made their guardian. 1915George is killed in the First World War, fighting with his regiment in Flanders. 1921Michael, an undergraduate at Oxford, is drowned while swimming with a friend. The two bodies, when recovered, are found clinging together.
On April 5, 1960, Peter Llewellyn Davies, by then an esteemed publisher, threw himself under a subway train in London. We should not presume to read a mind in torment, but we may note in passing that, if he had lived another month, he would have reached the centenary of Barrie's birth and thus, one imagines, a fresh flurry of interest in "Peter Pan""that terrible masterpiece," in the words of Peter Llewellyn Davies.