Why Neverland is not your regular tear-jerker

Common knowledge dictates that straight American teenaged males must not cry under any circumstances. Violating this unspoken rule can lead to severe consequences, including but not limited to name-calling, weird glances, and unbounded awkwardness. Thus, with intended gravity, I am choosing to reveal that I bawled like a hungry infant by the end of Finding Neverland. With the strength of a phenomenal cast, a tight script, and some inspired direction from Marc Forster, Neverland actually manages to accomplish what its sappy and vacuous competitors could not –that is, be a damn good movie.

Based loosely on real events, Neverland narrates the life of playwright James Barrie (played by the inimitable Johnny Depp, nominated for the Best Actor Oscar) who is struggling to find new material after his latest play’s disaster. Enter the Davies Family, complete with Widow Sylvia (Kate Winslet, nominated this year for Eternal Sunshine) and her four children, each more adorable then the next (Brady Bunch anyone?). Barrie immediately connects with the boys, and their imaginative summer adventures inspire him to write a new play called Peter Pan.

But wait, there’s more. David Magee’s script (also nominated for an Oscar) is rife with complex relationships. Barrie’s marriage to the stunning Radha Mitchell is on the rocks; Sylvia’s vicious mother (the delightfully wicked Julie Christie) develops a pointed animosity for Barrie; and the children are each still dealing with the loss of their father. Yet despite this quality cast, the best performance of the film comes from the remarkable Freddie Highmore, who at 13 years old manages to steal each and every scene out from under Depp (the fantastic duo will reunite in a remake of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory next year).

Although Director Marc Foster takes the first half-hour of the film to find his footing, when he finally does so, the results are terrific. Using nearly every trick of the trade, Foster plays with the camera in an extremely original ways. In one scene, Foster’s camera will swoop and fly about the screen with excitement, while resting in cautious observation throughout the next, thus setting the pace and tone of each moment. His angular shots are especially reminiscent of Carol Reed’s The Third Man, unabashedly revealing his talents for taking a good story and telling it terrifically well.

The film certainly has its flaws. A few moments seem geared towards getting Depp his Oscar nod at the expense of narrative flow. The cold, quiet scenes between Depp and Mitchell especially seem to scream, “SUBTEXT! SUBTEXT!”, rather than allowing the audience to absorb the talents of the actors. However, the major issue with the film is inherent in the genre – when a movie is designed to take an audience on an emotional roller coaster, with little else to say about the world or those living in it, its appeal and achievement are limited.

In the end, Finding Neverland doesn’t manage to escape the confines of its genre. It does, however, excel within it and gives the audience exactly what it came for. While it won’t be taught in film classes, Finding Neverland will most likely be giving guys like me a good cry for years to come.