Peter Pan

Cinderella flew through the air...

far from all things

ugly and ordinary.

When she landed at the ball,

she found herself...

most impertinently surrounded

by pirates.

There was Alf Mason,

so ugly his mother sold him

for a bottle of muscat.

Bill Jukes,

every inch ofhim tattooed.

And worst of them all,

Hook, with eyes blue

as forget-me-nots,

save when he clawed your belly

with the iron hook he has...

instead of a right hand,

at which time...

his eyes turn red.

"Girlie," said Hook,

"we have come

for ye glass slippers."

Who be you to order me about

and call me girlie?

Take that.!

Take that! Take that!

Commoner.!

-Hook came at her.

What happened then?

What happened then?

The brave Cinderella settled

the matter once and for all...

with her revolver.

With her revolver?

The night on which

the extraordinary adventures...

of these children

may be said to have begun...

was the night Nana

barked at the window.

But there was nothing there,

not a bird or a leaf.

So the children forgot

about it,

for what troubles a grown-up

will never trouble a child.

Oh, dearest George, dear Mary.

Oh, what a journey I've had.

Bath time.

Not fair!

Not fair, indeed. But Nana was

the finest nurse on four paws.

No. No, I will not

forgive you.

There never was

a happier, simpler family.

Mr. Darling was a banker

who knew the cost of everything,

even a hug.

Mrs. Darling was the loveliest

lady in Bloomsbury...

with a sweet, mocking mouth

that had one kiss on it...

that Wendy could never get.

Though there it was,

perfectly conspicuous

on the right-hand corner.

And sometimes there

was Aunt Millicent...

who felt a dog for a nurse

lowered the whole tone

of the neighborhood.

All right, all right,

all right, all right.

Less noise.

- Let's settle down.

This is not a farm.

- Bravo, George. Bravo.

- Wendy's turn.

Wendy must tell a story.

Cecco, who carved his name

on the governor at Goa.

Noodler, with his hands

on backwards.

- Heavens.

- Hook!

- Hook?

- Hook, whose eyes turn red

as he guts you.

Upon my soul, how children

are educated nowadays.

- I'm afraid I am not

learned at all, Aunt.

- But I do know a thing or two

about pirates.

- Ooh.

My unfulfilled ambition is

to write a great novel in three

parts about my adventures.

- What adventures?

- I've yet to have them,

but they will be

perfectly thrilling.

But, child, novelists

are not highly thought of

in good society.

And there is nothing

so difficult to marry as a novelist.

- Marry?

- Marry?

- Marry?

- But, Aunt, Wendy is not yet 13.

Walk toward me, dear,

that I may appraise you.

Go on.

Walk to your auntie.

Stand up straight.

- Stop it!

- Turn around.

Shh.

Mm, yes.

Oh, it's quite as I expected.

Wendy possesses a woman's chin.

Have you not noticed?

Observe her mouth.

There, hidden

in the right-hand corner,

is that a kiss?

- A kiss?

- Like Mother's kiss.

- A hidden kiss.

- But what is it for?

It is for the greatest

adventure of all.

They that find it...

have slipped in and out of heaven.

Find what?

The one the kiss belongs to.

My Wendy...

a woman.

Almost a woman.

She must spend less time

with her brothers...

and more time with me.

She must have her own room.

Ayoung lady's room.

Leave the...

George, the daughter

of a clerk cannot hope to marry

as well as that of a manager.

You must attend more parties,

make small talk with

your superiors at the bank.

Wit is very fashionable

at the moment.

Wit.

But there was no sign of a body,

for none had fallen.

Certainly she had been dreaming.

If this is you in bed,

what is this?

A boy.

Miss Fulsom dispatched a letter

of outrage to Mr. Darling...

that set new standards

of prudery, even for her.

Yes, miss.

Mr. Darling had been practicing

small talk all afternoon.

I say, it's nice weather we're having.

And now his opportunity had arrived.

Sir Edward Quiller Couch,

the president of the bank,

was a man who enjoyed small talk...

almost as much

as a good balance sheet.

Wendy walked as one condemned.

And then... fate.

The letter! Wait! Stop!

Wendy, wait!

Come back!

I say, what a splendid tie.

Wait.! You there.! Stop.!

- Wendy.! Nana, come back.!

That's 200 saved.

Ajudicious investment?

Indeed.

Uh...

Hi. Um...

I, uh...

You there, stop.! Wait.!

Stop! Wait!

Uh, uh, uh... I, uh...

I can explain.!

No!

I have been humiliated.!

No!

I must become a man

that children fear

and adults respect,

or we shall all

end up in the street!

George, not so loud.

The neighbors will hear.

Let them hear.

Let the whole world know!

This is not a nurse! This is a dog.

Tomorrow you begin

your instruction...

with Aunt Millicent.

It's time for you to grow up.!

Mother?

Can anything harm us

after the night-lights are lit?

No, precious.

They are the eyes a mother

leaves behind to guard her children.

Mother, must you go

to the party?

Please, Mother.

Yes, Mother,

you don't have to go.

Father can go by himself.

Please, Mother.

By himself?

Your father is a brave man.

But he's going to need

the special kiss to face

his colleagues tonight.

Father? Brave?

There are many

different kinds of bravery.

There's the bravery of thinking

of others before oneself.

Now, your father has never

brandished a sword nor fired

a pistol, thank heavens.

But he's made many sacrifices

for his family...

and put away many dreams.

Where did he put them?

He put them in a drawer.

And sometimes, late at night,

we take them out and admire them.

But it gets harder and harder

to close the drawer.

He does.

And that is why he is brave.

And remember, every cloud

has a silver lining.

Oh.

Oh. No, it's snowing.

Oh, we'll catch our death.

Better death than gossip.

You will enter that drawing room

with your head held high.

Oh!

Shh!

One, two,

Three!

Aha!

Come here, you!

I got you.

Ha!

Boy, why are you crying?

You can fly!

What is your name?

What is your name?

Wendy Moira Angela Darling.

Peter... Pan.

Where do you live?

Second to the right and then

straight on till morning.

They put that on the letters?

Don't get any letters.

But your mother gets letters.

Don't have a mother.

No wonder you were crying.

I wasn't crying

about mothers.

I was crying because I can't

get the shadow to stick.

And I wasn't crying!

I could sew it on for you.

This may hurt a little.

- Might I borrow your knife?

- Thank you.

- Oh, the cleverness of me!

- Of course, I did nothing.

Aw, you did a little.

A little?

Good night.

Wendy?

One girl is worth more

than 20 boys.

You really think so?

I live with boys... the Lost Boys.

They are well named.

Who are they?

Children who fall out of their prams

when the nurse is not looking.

If they are not claimed in seven days,

they are sent to the Neverland.

- Are there girls too?

- Girls are much too clever

to fall out of their prams.

Peter, it is perfectly lovely

the way you talk about girls.

I should like to give you...

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