by J. M. Barrie
The first picture is of Peter riding gaily on a goat through a wood, playing on his pipes (a reproduction of the painting in my possession). He suddenly flies on to a tree in the inconsequential way of birds. From this he flies over a romantic river, circling it with the careless loveliness of a sea-gull. He as suddenly re-alights on his goat and rides away playing his pipes, his legs sticking out cockily. Vast practice and rehearsal will be needed to get the flying beautiful and really like a bird’s. The flying must be far better and more elaborate than in the acted play, and should cover of course a far wider expanse. This incident should show at once that the film can do things for Peter Pan which the ordinary stage cannot do. It should strike a note of wonder in the first picture, and whet the appetite for marvels.
There was once a poor London clerk and his wife, called Mr and Mrs Darling; but what do you think they had?
Mr and Mrs Darling, who should be very tall, so as to make the children smaller, are sitting on each side of fireplace in a humble, but pleasant London sitting-room. The furniture should be of the simplest kind. There should not in this room, or any room shown in the play, be any of the massive carved furniture in heavy oak with spiral legs, etc., that is often shown in films. These are people of refined taste, but with very small means. Mr Darling is only a clerk in an office, and the humbleness of their social position should always be emphasized. She is sewing a childish garment. After a moment there come running to them one at a time their three children.
Wendy, John, and Michael.
It is a happy domestic picture, all very loving. The children romp away and the parents are there without them. They have been boisterous and Mrs Darling is tired and overworked. Mr Darling kindly tries to take the sewing from her, but she shakes her head. Liza, their little maid, comes in with the evening paper to Mr Darling. It should be a London paper, not an American one. Liza should be played by a child of about eight years of age, but with her hair up and a long skirt. She departs primly. Mr Darling points out an advertisement in the paper to Mrs Darling. It is shown in a close-up: “For nurses and nursery maids, apply Mrs S. 22 Green Street.” Evidently this is what they are in need of, but they compare money and indicate that they are too poor. Then he shows her another advertisement in close-up: “Newfoundland dog for sale, cheap. Very fond of children. Apply Dogs’ Home.” He points to the underlined words in particular. She is evidently afraid, but he sees an idea in it.
Then there is a picture of Mr Darling leading a Newfoundland dog through a London street. The dog is coming willingly.
The next picture shows the result of the previous ones. We see the night nursery with three beds as in the opening of the acted play. It should be an English nursery. The Newfoundland dog, Nana, is seen going about the work of a nurse in a very practical way. We see Nana preparing the bath, bathing Michael in the bathroom very realistically, and herding the three to bed, tucking them in, etc. A long, continuous amusing picture, reproducing this incident from the play, but more fully than is possible there.
When Nana thinks they are all asleep she retires into her kennel which is in the nursery, and we see her go to sleep there with her head just out of the kennel. The naughty children are not really asleep. They jump up. Wendy makes sure that Nana is asleep, then she signs to the others, and they creep into her bed. She begins to tell them a story, while they sit up eagerly listening. It is rather dark.
(NOTE about Nana.—She should be generally played by a human being in a skin exactly like that of some real Newfoundland dog which is available, so that in certain scenes—as in the street scenes—this dog can be substituted for the actor.)
Next we have a vision of Cinderella with her broom asleep by fire in kitchen, to show that this is the story Wendy is telling.
Do you know why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.
We see Wendy telling this to her brothers. Michael goes on tiptoe to the window to “shoo” the swallows away. Then we have an outside view of the window, with several swallows sitting on the sill, listening. Michael suddenly appears at the window, opens curtains and “shoos” them away. He returns, grinning, to Wendy’s bed, thinking himself a very clever lad.
Unknown to Wendy, there was sometimes another listener to the stories.
From outside we see Peter listening at the window. Then we have alternate scenes of Wendy telling tales and Peter listening eagerly. (We should not see that Peter has flown here yet.)
One night Nana nearly caught him, and he only escaped by leaving his shadow behind.
Peter comes, stealthily, in by window to hear the story better. He crawls along the floor and listens delightedly. Nana wakes up and runs at him. He leaps out at window, but she brings down the sash so quickly that his shadow is left behind. Excitement of the children, who sit up. Mrs Darling rushes in, followed by Mr Darling. Nana has the shadow in her mouth. Mr Darling unfolds the shadow and examines it. He evidently thinks it a very naughty shadow. Mrs Darling rolls it up and puts it away in a drawer. They look out at the window, but no one can be seen. The pictures here show us that the nursery is at the top of a house in a poor, but respectable, London street. The mystery makes them uneasy. Then Mrs Darling evidently thinks Michael is looking too excited. She looks at his tongue, puts a thermometer in his mouth and produces a bottle, which we see, in a close-up, is labelled “Castor Oil.” She pours some in a spoon and puts the handle into Nana’s mouth.
Michael is in his own bed, with the others around. Nana crosses to him with the medicine spoon in her mouth. He is naughty and won’t take it, etc., as in the play, which should be consulted here for the humours of the scene.
“Be a man, my son. I would take my medicine now, as an example to you, if I hadn’t lost the bottle.”
Mr Darling is saying this in his superior way.
“I know where you put it, father.”
Wendy says this, thinking she is pleasing him. She runs off. Anguish of Mr Darling, which is increased when she returns with the bottle, which we have seen her in another picture getting from the top of a cupboard in his bedroom, where he had, doubtless, hidden it. It should be a very humble bedroom. She pours some of his medicine into a glass, and gives it to him. He glares. John chuckles at his father’s predicament. Wendy gives the signal: one, two, three, for them to drink simultaneously. Humours of Michael and his father in this situation as in play.
Michael drinks his medicine, but Mr Darling ignobly conceals his glass behind his back. Michael sees this and cries. All are ashamed of Mr Darling, as they peep behind his back and see the glass. Nana sticks out her tail and struts contemptuously out of the room. He is annoyed at her. Then he indicates that he has a funny idea. He gets a milk bottle (which we see to be milk in a close-up) and pours a little milk on top of his medicine and then pours the white mixture into Nana’s drinking bowl.
The others don’t like this, but he points to it when Nana returns. She is grateful and begins to lap it up, then looks at him reproachfully and sneaks into her kennel. The children weep, and he is testy over the ill success of his joke. He orders Nana to come out, but she shrinks. Then, as in the play, he tries blandishment and lures her out, then suddenly seizes her and drags her away out at the door, to the grief of the children.
He foolishly ties Nana up in the yard, instead of leaving her in the nursery to guard his children.
In the next picture we see him tying Nana up in the yard below.
That night Mrs Darling had to go with her husband to a party.
First we see her in a bedroom tying her husband’s tie, and we see him inking seams in his coat, and also inking his tall hat, which shows how poor they are. Then we see her in her party frock going from bed to bed kissing the children, etc. Then lighting a night-light at the head of each bedside. She has a last maternal look at them from the door, all as in play, with the accompanying music. Then we see Mr and Mrs Darling going out, and passing the yard, where Mr Darling won’t let Mrs Darling fondle Nana. Nana we
eps. The two pass up the street under an umbrella, as it is snowing. The house to which they go is not far away. It is in the same street, but on the opposite side. They walk. (There are no automobiles or telephones in this play.)
Next we see the outside of the window with two or three swallows on the window-sill.
Now Nana is seen fretting in the yard, as if she smelt danger. Then the nursery again. Children asleep. The night-lights blink and go out one by one in an eerie way to the music of the play, suggesting that something strange is to happen. There should be an awful creepiness here, which the music greatly helps.
The fairy, Tinker Bell.
Now we have the outside of the window, with swallows still there. The fairy music comes now. The fairy, Tink, flies on and alights on the window-sill. The swallows remain. She should be about five inches in height and, if the effect can be got, this should be one of the quaintest pictures of the film, the appearance of a real fairy. She is a vain little thing, and arranges her clothes to her satisfaction. She also keeps shoving the birds about so as to get the best place for herself. There should never be any close-up pictures of Tink or other fairies; we should always just see them as not more than five inches high. Finally she shoves the swallows off the sill. Then she pops through the window. We see her flying about the nursery, alighting on each bed, etc. Next we see Nana below looking at the sky and barking. Then we see Peter flying towards us. At first he is a mere speck in the distance. Then he comes closer and reaches the window. Now the inside of the nursery, with the children still asleep. It is rather dark now. Tink is not visible. Peter comes in through window. He has come for his shadow. He makes sure they are asleep. It should all be very dramatic here—like an attempted burglary, and the music helps. He rummages in the drawers for his shadow, finds it, sits on the floor trying to stick it on his foot with soap, which he gets from the bathroom. It won’t stick on. He sobs. Wendy hears him and sits up in bed.
“Boy, why are you crying?”
She is asking this. He rises and, standing at foot of her bed, bows politely to her. She is gratified and bows from the bed in the quaint manner of the play, in which this is a popular incident.
“Girl, what is your name?”
“Wendy. What is your name?”
“Peter Pan.”
“Where is your mother, Peter?”
“Don’t have a mother, Wendy.”
“Oh!”
As the result of this conversation Wendy springs out of bed, runs to him, puts arm round him and mothers him. It should be seen that she has at once taken the mother’s place. He holds up his shadow to show that this is what is worrying him. She lifts the soap and in a close-up we see that it is marked “Soap.” She is astonished at his ignorance, puts him on a chair, and proceeds to sew the shadow on to his foot in her old-fashioned, motherly way, with the business of the play, in which he suffers agonies, but is very brave. When he finds that all is well he struts about conceitedly, showing off his shadow. He dances gaily to his shadow, and brushes her aside as of no consequence, but this annoys Wendy.
“If I am no use I can at least withdraw.”
We see Wendy saying this. She then haughtily leaps into bed and covers her body and face with the blankets, all in one action which is another popular incident of the play.
Peter is now sorry. First he pretends to go away, but hides. Then he leaps on to the rail at foot of the bed, sits on it and pokes her in a wheedling way with his foot.
“Wendy, don’t withdraw. One girl is more use than twenty boys.”
He is saying this. She peeps at him smiling and forgivingly, jumps up and sits on the side of her bed and signs to him to join her. He does so. They are a very friendly pair.
When Wendy said she would give him a kiss he held out his hand for it. He didn’t know what a kiss was; and, so as not to hurt his feelings, she gave him a thimble.
We see this incident as in the play.
“Now shall I give you a kiss?”
Peter is saying this to Wendy. She nods. He gravely pulls a button off his clothes and gives it to her. We see it is a button in a close-up. She pretends pleasure, but privately makes a face.
“I ran away from home, Wendy, soon after I was born. I heard my father saying I would soon be a man: and I want always to be a little boy, and to have fun.”
He tells her this. Then we see Peter’s mother lying in bed and the father coming in. She holds up the baby proudly. (It must be a real baby just old enough to crawl.) The father sits on a chair talking to the mother. Now comes another realistic picture. We have visions of what the father is telling the mother, viz., of how the baby will rapidly grow up. Without the background seeming to alter we see the baby changing to a tiny boy, then to an older boy, then, through various changes to a youth and a man with a moustache, sitting like a clerk on a stool at a desk. The clothes, socks, etc. of him at one period should seem to drop off him and be replaced by others as he grows older, and we should actually see his legs growing longer, and so on. It will be worth while to devote much attention to this picture to get the right effect. The idea is to apply to the growth of a child from babyhood to manhood the same sort of cinema treatment that is sometimes given to illustrate the growth of flowers and plants. The real baby is much alarmed by all this pictorial prediction of his future. While the parents talk he creeps unseen by them out of bed and under it; emerges from under it, and crawls along floor out of the door. We see him crawling through an anteroom in which a nurse is asleep. Then he is seen crawling downstairs. Then we might get the effect of him crawling across a street full of traffic. He crawls into Kensington Gardens. There, two great birds come to his help and, sustaining him between them, fly away with him. His night-gown is now much torn.
Peter tells Wendy about his friends, the fairies. “When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about: and that was the beginning of fairies.”
He tells her this. Then the scene is a primeval wood. Adam and Eve leave their child on the ground. They go. The child laughs and kicks joyously. Then the picture is full of little splashes whirling about like falling leaves, and when they come to rest they are gay little fairies. The tinkling of bells comes here also to indicate their chatter, and we also have the fairy music.
Every time a child says “I don’t believe in fairies” there is a fairy somewhere who falls down dead.
Peter is telling this to the enraptured Wendy. Then we see another nursery, with an unpleasant boy making this remark to his nurse.
Then the scene changes to a tree, on a branch of which several fairies are sitting chattering happily. They are all small like Tink. Suddenly one of them claps her hand to her heart, reels and falls to the ground. The others descend and sadly carry her remains away.
Wendy sees her first fairy.
We see Peter and Wendy chasing Tink about. Tink alights on the clock. Wendy admires her ecstatically.
But Tink loves Peter, and when she sees Wendy giving him a real kiss (now called a thimble) she misbehaves.
Peter and Wendy are now together on an armchair. She gives him a real kiss, and he likes it, beams, and solemnly gives her one. Then Tink rushes at her and pulls her hair, etc. Wendy screams. Peter threatens. The unseen bells which represent the fairy language ring agitatedly.
“She says she will do that every time I give you a thimble. But why, Tink?”
Peter is asking. The reply comes in a different kind of tinkle that should remain in the audience’s memory.
She said: “You silly ass!”
Peter says this to Wendy. He chases Tink away, out of the window.
“I live in the Never, Never Land with the Lost Boys. Come with me, Wendy, and I’ll teach you to fly, and you can be our mother. We do so need a mother.”
Picture of Peter urging her to do this. They are now sprawling on the floor. Peter works his way along the floor to her—another comic effect in the play. Then a vision of the lost boys
all perched on a branch of a tree asleep, huddled together in a row and sitting exactly like sleeping birds. They are in very ragged clothes and should look very small. Peter, himself, is one of them.
“Of course it’s awfully fascinating!”
Wendy is saying this to Peter, and is screwed up in rapture as she says it.
Next a picture of little Liza asleep in the kitchen on a chair, a half-washed dish in her hands.
Then one of Nana in the yard, being annoyed by Tink, who is behaving impudently to her, teasing her, drinking from her bowl, etc. Nana makes rushes at her, but the mischievous Tink always flies out of reach.
“John, Michael, wake up. There is a boy here who is to teach us to fly and take us to the Never, Never Land. He says there are pirates and mermaids and redskins.”
“I say, let’s go at once.”
Wendy is waking up Michael while Peter wafts John out of bed with his foot. Wendy is telling the great news, and John’s is the enthusiastic reply. John puts on his long hat. John is in pyjamas, Michael in “combinations” and Wendy in a white cotton night-gown.
A lesson in flying
We should now have a fine series of film pictures without words. First we see Peter in the nursery showing the others how to fly, while they watch him eagerly from their beds. Then Nana in the yard tearing at her chain, and looking up at the nursery window which is the only one lit up.
Then little Liza still asleep in her chair in the kitchen—in a different position.
Then a view of Peter and the others through the window on whose sill Tink is sitting.
Then Mr Darling, Mrs Darling with others at a dinner-party.
Then the nursery again. The children are trying to fly by jumping about and falling.