I've taken to blogging in Notepad. Yes, it's come to this. Blogger has been completely unreliable since the last upgrade, and it wasn't so hot before that, oh say, for the last four weeks. Or, ever since I paid for it. I am finding this to be more and more true as a life rule. It's like those couples who live together for a thousand years before they get married, and then they get married and six months later you hear they're divorced. Go figure.
Just got back from seeing Return to Neverland the sequel to Peter Pan. Our daughter begged us, and my husband and I said okay fine, the popcorn and candy will make it worth while. I meant to bring Stupid White Men (the book, not acutal stupid white men) so I could sneak in a couple of chapters when the lighting would allow, but I forgot it. So I was stuck watching the movie, which was mostly bad. The beginning was, well, wartime propaganda? I'm trying to figure out if they came up with this shlock pre or post 9-11. I have my guess when the dramatic opening scene popped into their heads.
It opens in London with what I think was WW2 hot and underway, bombs falling, air raid sirens blaring, father leaving for the War, and frightened "Jane" trying to make her way home to Wendy, Jane's mother the heroine of PP1. Lights go out in the windows of the houses still standing amid the destruction of previous bomb blasts, and, after what's left of the family emerges from the bomb shelter in their back yard, an official goes door to door announcing that all the children of London are being taken to the country, away from danger and their families, to wait out the war.
For crying out loud. Okay? My daughter's four. I thought this was all about pixie dust.
But of course, everyone's willing to do their part for the War Effort--that axis of evil has existed for a really long time; different players, same deal--and our Wendy prepares
to tell her daughter she'll be the one looking after her little brother in whatever camp they're taking all the children to. At this point Wendy falls fast asleep and has an Ecstacy-induced dream where she straddles the back of Peter Pan, who flies her around Neverland before taking her to his crib, where she sits on his bed and meets all the boys who hang there.
And so it goes. There were probably six or so kids in the theater (it's not pulling them in in droves, in other words), and I heard a few crying, but none laughing. Everything turns out alright in the end (this is Disney), but only after Tinkerbell almost dies.
Skip it if you want my advice. Especially if you're looking for an uplifting fairy tale. Go see Snow Dogs instead. At least you'll chuckle.
