Neverland Recovered

We live in sick times. How sick? Consider what the term, "Neverland" means to the average American. Unless you just crawled off the boat - or have been living Amish, it means two things: (1) a song about child abuse; or (2) the Jacko ranch, or as CourtTV would put it, "the crime scene."

There was a time, about eight million years ago, when "Neverland" referred to a place of wonder, that blissful childhood innocence that escapes us the day some kid (usually a redhead with freckles and bad teeth) gives us the scoop about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, or what your Dad's been doing at that house down the block.

Yikes!

Imagine my utter amusement - and wonder - to find today's lesson in innocence being told to us by none other than Johnny Depp, the lovechild of "innocent" Tim Burton, and Kate Winslet, the busty peasant victim of a retarded sexual offender in Quills, the loving biopic of the Marquis de Sade.

Innocence, indeed.

But to tell you the truth, I really enjoyed Neverland, a quiet drama about J.M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan, and the experiences that led him to write the play that became the book that became the cartoon that became the play that became, well, the drama starring Johnny Depp.

I'm being a bit of a smart aleck, but I gotta say, I really enjoyed this film. Yes, it's a tear jerker, so guys, take a date. You'll never get a better aphrodisiac, and this one is legal. I took my pregnant wife, who squirted like she was watering the roses. I spent the better part of two hours (100 minutes, I think) passing tissues and eating twenty dollars worth of junk. When it was over, I made fun of her, let her blow her nose with dignity and walked out with a smile on my face.

It just doesn't get better than that.

Without spoiling everything, let me "preview" the story for those of you who come to these essays looking for a hint. When the story begins, J.M. Barrie has just watched a play of his hit flopsville. He's a small, delicate, dignified men with an accent just this side of Leprechaun (the most tasteful Irish accent I've heard in years, far better than Depp's channeling of Bono in Chocolat).

Discussing what went wrong, his investor (Dustin Hoffman) chalks it up to the critics, who've made it all so serious. In a line that ought to become an instant classic, Hoffman asks, "What do they call this thing?" The answer, of course, is "play," which is our thematic invitation to see the world from the perspective of a child.

Barrie takes inspiration from this and soon finds himself involved with a family of a widow, whose young boys engage his imagination in good ways (Shame on you, Jacko). The more Barrie hangs out with these kids, the more involved he becomes with the family's woes, which include sudden impoverishment considering the father of the house has died, leaving debts and nothing to pay them with.

Barrie's compassion leads him to do things that anybody can see ought to be done, but nobody, with prudence, would do in merry old Victorian England, or America, or wherever the Hell this story took place (Obviously, it was someplace with Irish-sounding men like Barrie).

This leads to a quiet scandal, since Barrie is spending more time with Winslet than he is with his own wife, whose own good humor could put out a forest fire. Complications go on from there, as well as wonderful, tear-jerking humanistic, compassionate, uplifting stuff.

Go see the movie, deadbeats.

I just want to say, for the record, that I had a great time watching this film. I liked the colors, which were muted, to match the film grammar of a period piece. I loved the performances, which were understated and as delicious as those KitKat pieces I was scarfing up like they were a cure for cancer.

This is obviously not as kinetic a story as Paycheck or Charlie's Angels. In keeping with the period, there were relatively few explosions. This film dared to depend on the story and performances. I know it's an old-fashioned approach, but every now and then, it's nice to see a good-looking actress NOT take off her clothes.

But I did take offense when Depp put two slugs into the grandmother. That was one gorey scene. (Suckers)

See this film. See it with a date. Bring tissue. Don't forget the KitKat pieces. Later days.