Pixie Lust
Peter Pan is queer. We're all clear on that, right? The
stereotype of a closeted gay man, Peter is light on his
feet, wears tights, and has '80s hair. He thinks all girls
are supposed to be his mother and doesn't like them once
they develop curves. And while he generally hangs with
boys, his closest companion is a twinkly fairy girl who's
kind of a bitch. Of course, all this is exactly what makes
him so popular with the little ladies: he's not a sexual
threat; he's rowdy and fun like boys are supposed to be,
but as fey and dainty too. Girls -- Wendy is particular --
have crushes on him and he never seems to notice.
What Peter Pan says he wants most of all is to
"never grow up," and have those around him stay young as
well. But as we know from Disney's original animated
Peter Pan (1953), he really wants someone to care
for him and entertain him with stories, so he tries to
convince the girl Wendy to play mom, while he battles the
prominent adult male in his life, Captain Hook. It all
sounds rather Freudian, which makes sense, because
playwright James M. Barrie first brought the character of
Peter Pan to the stage in early 1900s, then published the
play as a novel a few years later, around the time of
Freud's psychoanalytic celebrity among Western bourgeois
and upper classes.
The character's cultural impact has been huge. In addition
to the Syndrome and the peanut butter, Peter Pan's crew
gave its name to Joel Schumacher's The Lost Boys
(1987). Peter Pan's boys, though, aren't blood-sucking
fiends; they're just a bunch of goofy, poorly socialized
children who wear animal costumes. (At least I think those
are costumes.) More recently, comedian David Spade has made
a career out of Peter-Pansiness, and Sean Hayes' iconic
Jack McFarland (on NBC's Will & Grace) is a much
better dressed, out version, aided by Karen (Megan
Mullally) as his cantankerous Tinkerbell.
With so much Peter Pan in our lives, it makes sense that
he'd get an update, even if he has not been able to "grow
up." There are all kinds of possibilities: perhaps the New
Millennium Peter could be queer and proud of it. Or maybe
Double-P can exchange his mini-dress and tights for comfy
baggy jeans and a fleece sweatshirt, be comfortable with
his masculinity and expand his crew to include folks who
aren't just girl-mothers and boy-children.
But in the new Disney movie, Return to Never Land,
Peter has not changed at all since we last saw him.
Instead, Wendy has. Here, Wendy (voice of Kath Soucie) is
all grown up, living in WWII London with kids of her own,
including Jane (Harriet Owen). Mr. Wendy, a.k.a. Edward
(Roger Rees), goes off to war, telling his Jane to be sure
she takes care of her baby brother Danny (Andrew
McDonough). Wendy is still disturbingly obsessed with Peter
Pan. If I were Edward, I'd be annoyed by all those
references to her old boyfriend who never gets any older.
A few years later, Edward is still gone and the family is
barely scraping by. Taking her assignment seriously, Jane
has become no fun at all. She scours the muddy, bombed-out
streets for provisions, with the help of her faithful dog
Nana Two (Frank Welker). Preoccupied as she is, Jane scoffs
at her mother's tales of Peter Pan, Captain Hook, et. al.
She focuses on making lists of what needs to be done,
listening to war reports on the radio, and keeping her
family safe. Her plans fall apart when she's kidnapped by
Captain Hook (Corey Burton) and his crew of swarthy
pirates, whereupon she meets her mother's old boyfriend,
who is still seeking a mother figure in his life. It
actually sounds a bit unseemly, like Dynasty.
Unfortunately, it's not as intriguing.
Jane might have made this a worthwhile bit of
entertainment; pre-Never Land, she's courageous,
self-assured, and clever. On her arrival in Never Land,
she's more of a grrrl than Wendy ever even dreamed of
being, punching both the pirates and Peter Pan when they
get on her nerves. (To which Peter Pan responds, "She's
just jealous. All girls get that way around me.") And, Jane
indicates that she has no desire to be the "mother" that
Wendy was. I'm not really sure why this is a bad thing, but
apparently it is, and she needs to be fixed. It's also not
clear to me whether Jane's time in Never Land is supposed
to make her more childlike or more motherly -- one
unsettling idea is that, as a young female, Jane should be
both.
Her situation is made more strained by the lack of
imagination in the character graphics. Ironically, the
background is all good: the animation of the London streets
is beautiful, featuring an especially creepy scene where
Captain Hook's wooden ship flies through the night sky,
alongside warplanes and searchlights. When we get to Never
Land, via a trippy kaleidoscope in the sky, the scenery
looks more like old-school Disney, with bright colors and
deceptively simple lines, but still fun to look at. But
while the pirates look pretty lively, like they've been
scraped right off the cels of the 1953 film, the other
characters look more like today's quickly composed computer
graphic figures.
Also uninteresting is the soundtrack. Return to Never
Land is billed as a musical, but there are few songs
and none is remarkable or even catchy. The love scenes and
girl-focused scenes feature ballads, several sung by
Jonatha Brooke. The only tune that has potential to be
remembered in 50 years -- or even five -- is the Lost Boys'
theme, penned and sung by quirky alt-pop duo They Might Be
Giants. Unfortunately, while the lyrics are amusing, the
tune lacks a hook or any other device to make it memorable.
Perhaps worst of all, the characterizations lack the
original's potential darkness. The requisite scene
establishing enmity between Hook and his monstrous opponent
-- here an octopus has replaced the crocodile -- is toned
down from the original: in Never Land, the creature
invites Hook's wrath by pulling down his pants rather than
eating a body part. Hook is humiliated, not maimed, but
seems equally irked and ready for vengeance.
Jane's moment of transformation from anti-Panner to
Pan-backer is also dulled. There is also very little
Jane-Hook interaction because that would be, well, icky (as
though Jane being sweet on mom's old boyfriend and riding
on his back when he flies isn't). There is little
indication as to why Jane changes her mind, except that
those Lost Boys sure are fun to hang out with. Jane, it
seems, not only lacks any girl friends, she lacks any
friends at all. Nobody likes a girl who's too serious.
Ultimately, Jane learns her place as a girl, softens up and
loses some of the intensity that made her an interesting
character to begin with. As she must, however, Jane leaves
Never Land, and so leaves open the possibility that Peter
might also sweep her daughters, and her daughters'
daughters, off their little cartoon feet. Maybe he'd have
better luck getting one of the sons to stick around.