Peter Pan

      My heart pounded as Wendy solemnly walked the plank after refusing to join Captain Hook's crew, and I was near tears as she jumped off. I need not have worried, however, because Peter Pan flies across Neverland to rescue her, saving her from the cold sea and hungry crocodile. After returning her to safety, he boldly fights Captain Hook with one hand behind his back, finally stopping him at knifepoint and forcing him to proclaim that he is a codfish. And with that, Hook falls into the ocean and finds himself being chased by the ever-present ticking crocodile, and is never to be heard from again. 

       A tale of mermaids and Neverland will enrapture the ebullient child, and make their minds dream of things far greater than Earth. But after watching this as an adult, (well, sort of) I can now see what the author wanted me to see all along. These characters are not dreamy quixotics meant for children, but they embody the pieces that make all of us up and symbolize the battle they go through everyday. 

       Peter Pan is more than a pointy eared imp who flies around with fairies, but he is our inner-child, trying desperately to escape the harshness of the adult world. He is our oldest dream, the wish from which we base all other wishes, the person we always thought we would be. We admire yet deprecate him; not allowing ourselves to admit he is greater than our greatest truth. He has found the Fountain of Youth, the ideal we will spend hours searching for at the bottoms of cremes and lotions but will never find. He avoids adulthood by simply declaring that it will not exist for him, and it doesn't. He will never change a diaper, nor cope with any of the scruples adults face day after day. But he will also never hold a baby in his arms, or feel a sense of pride that comes from making the right decision. Peter will never meet rational or practicality, but only exists in a world of make-believe and fairy tales. In other words, Neverland. 

        Captain Hook spends his whole life running from the ticking time bomb he feels is out to get him, and he does not know how to escape. The crocodile that swallowed the clock seems to have no interest in Peter; a person who deals with growing up by proclaiming it will never happen. But he is constantly watching out for Hook, who is so afraid he becomes incapacitated at the very thought of it. Time is always chasing the Captain, a constant reminder that he is a choler and mortal man who has already grown up. Out of his fear grows resentment, resentment of a little boy who lives life without a clock, without any passing time. His prized hat becomes his very own cachet; a symbol of his eminence and respectability that is always missing when the crocodile is chasing him. The feather on it is always salient, that is of course until Pan excoriates it with his knife and its remains flutter away. 

         And then there is Tinkerbell, the ethereal and majestic fairy that lights up every room with her pixie dust. She is the hope and innocence of all children, their ability to believe in things that are far beyond them. Tinkerbell wishes and feels, and acts without thought. It is no wonder she palls around with Peter; together they are the wonder and naivity of children everywhere, both good and bad. Her burgeoning influence throughout the movie just shows how important a child's hope is, and her laconic disposition shows the needlessness of words. 

         These fairy-tale characters exist in all of us; our daily conflict between denial, fear, and hope. In most, these ideals are implacable, and will not allay their battle until one has taken over. So next time you see Peter Pan fight Captain Hook and win, remember that you are watching your most impractical dreams beat your fear. And think of how wonderful it would feel...if only we could all fly around Neverland as a hero.