Finding Neverland

I’m an amateur when it comes to film criticism. Actually I’m an amateur in most things (except for being an amateur. This is where I excel). There’s a guy I know in the movie industry. Whenever I bring up what I think is a cool shot or moment in a film, he just says, “Oh, yeah, that’s fairly standard stuff. We do those types of things all the time.” Alrighty then.

Disclaimer:
In addition, I’m usually anywhere from six months to three years behind everyone else when it comes to watching movies because I don’t watch them in theaters. I either wait for the DVD or when they play on television. With that in mind, anything I say here will probably have been said already (and said much better, undoubtedly).

J.M. Barrie’s life as portrayed in Finding Neverland seems to have been one typical of writers. He gets up, goes to the park to sit, reads, and writes notes in a journal. Every so often he produces a play, an occurrence that fills him with nervousness and perhaps self-doubt. As good a life as he appears to have he’s limited. Limited by his wife’s lack of interest, not in his work, but in the process of his work. Limited by his social class. Limited by his producer’s concern over his financial health. Limited in many and sundry ways as we all are whether by illness, divorce, and ultimately death.

But whether you’re a professional writer or a kid dreaming of the future, imagination can lift you up out of your limitations and allows you to soar above the mundane and land in a realm of treasures. In one line, when Barrie brings the play to the Davies’ home, he states that some compromises had to be made to fit the production in the small space and that “much of it will have to be imagined.” At this, Peter quips, “As it should be.”

There are a number of interesting shots and enhancements of scenes. Barrie’s maid clips out a bad review from the newspaper. When he opens up the paper, the review is missing but through the empty space he sees the Davies family, the inspiration for his next, and greatest, work. The Barrie home is elegant but dark. Everything is in formal browns and blacks, a cheerless setting housing a moribund marriage. In contrast, Barrie plays with the kids in the Davies’ backyard garden, in the park, and at his wife’s cottage. When they first approach the cottage, the scenery is bright and cheery, the colours vibrant. When they leave under an emotional cloud, the scenery is dull and dismal, tinted blue and grey. And my favourite shot is where, in the play, Wendy is carried off by the tail of a kite and the camera swirls around the theater for a few seconds before landing on Peter Davies’ face, lit with a knowing expression. (Another interesting fact I discovered from the credits is that Wendy is played by Kate Maberly, the girl from The Secret Garden)

At the end of the film, after Peter asks Barrie why his mother had to die, Barrie responds, “She went to Neverland and you can visit her anytime you like, if you just go there yourself.” “How?”, Peter asks. “By believing, Peter”, Barrie replies. “Just believe.” The final shot shows both Barrie and Peter fading from the scene, presumably entering Neverland, since both Barrie’s hat and umbrella are still on the bench.

And here one can start to comment on the significance of Neverland. There are two possible ways of looking at it. First, is Neverland a metaphor for heaven? In this case this would be a positive metaphor. Or is Neverland just a delusion, with the desire to go there being the desire to go to a place that doesn’t exist? This would be a negative metaphor. Whichever metaphor one would like to use will depend on one’s view of reality and the afterlife.

Atheists will probably choose the negative metaphor. Neverland (or heaven) may be nice
to think about but let’s not fool ourselves. It’s probably best to just gird up our loins and face the real world: there’s just this life so make the best of it.

Theists will choose the positive metaphor. Heaven is a real place and there are clues all around us, giving us glimpses of eternity. C.S. Lewis’ argument from desire gives us one. We have many desires for which their fulfillment is available on earth. Are we hungry? There is food. Are we thirsty? There’s water. Do we have sexual desire? There is sex. If, however, “I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” (Mere Christianty, Book III, Ch.10) And those who have eyes to see can catch those glimpses of heaven here on earth. Barrie and Sylvia’s children, except for Peter, see it through most of the movie. Even the rigid grandmother sees it eventually. And Peter as well sees it in the end.

So, assuming heaven is real, the second issue to address is this: is belief the only thing required to enter Neverland? That is, will anyone who sincerely believes get into heaven? Here the film’s message (assuming any such message was intended – I may be reading too much into the film here) doesn’t satisfy. The traditional Christian belief is that only faith in Jesus Christ allows a person into heaven. Some may think this unfair. However, why think that God is obligated to give us any good thing at all, never mind heaven? Now, one can be sincere in his belief that he’s going to heaven, but sincerity is not enough. One must also have a true belief about heaven. Is sincerity enough for other areas in life such as science or finance? If you go to your bank and ask to withdraw $10,000 dollars from your account, how far will you get if the account only contains $12.53? Try and answer, “But I sincerely believe there’s $10,000 dollars in my account” and see what happens. Sincerity is necessary of course, but sincerity alone is not sufficient. Do you want your mechanic or accountant to merely be sincere? Don’t you want them to actually know the truth of what the situation is? If religious belief has anything at all to do with objective truth about reality, then sincerity is not enough. As philosopher Peter Kreeft points out, you need more than sincerity; you need a Saviour.

Different people (and faith traditions) have different beliefs about different non-religious things in life. And yet everyone thinks he or she is going to heaven (or their particular conception of the afterlife, whatever that may be). Why should all these differences in non-religious areas of life suddenly be put aside when it comes to the question of heaven?

In the play, Peter Pan cries, “To die will be an awfully big adventure.” He’s right. Our life in heaven is the greatest adventure we’ll ever embark on. We’ll be going, in Lewis’ words, further up and further in. Heaven will truly make earth seem like the “shadowlands”.

That final scene in the film is pretty lip-tremblingly sentimental. The kid playing Peter is probably one of the best criers since Henry Thomas in E.T. This is one movie I’ll be watching again. I won’t put Finding Neverland on my favourite movies list. But it’s pretty close.