A few nights ago I dived into the treasure chest that is my collection of VHS tapes and pulled out Hook, the 1991 Spielberg film starring Robin Williams and Dustin Hoffman. I spent the evening in the company of Captain Hook, the Lost Boys, a middle-aged Peter Pan. I love this movie. When I was 9 years old I wasted an entire summer watching it. Everyday at lunch time, while enjoying tasty tuna sandwiches and kool-aid, I dived into a magical world that I wanted so badly to be apart of. I wanted to crow, fight, fly, and play games with hot little fairies. Who wouldn't, right? To this day, 17 or so years later, I can still quote the film line for line, and regularly work the juiciest nuggets into everyday conversation. My favorite line plays out something like this:
Acquaintance: I just want to get away, go on vacation...go on a little adventure. I think I need it.
Me: Death is the only adventure you have left.
No one ever seems to know why I would say such a thing, which baffles me. If you were a kid back in 91', how do you not remember Hook? I take offense when someone my age doesn't understand, so much so that I refuse to tell them where it's from if they don't. It's one of my many tests. If you don't know this movie, I'm not sure we can be friends. The real problem is, which I've contemplated often, is if you're not imagining Dustin Hoffman in a long, curly wig when I say this line, you might just jump off a ledge upon hearing it. But ah well, I enjoy saying it, so I'm going to keep saying it. If they jump, they jump.
Anyways...
One thing that's remained the same since I was a child is my desire to be a Lost Boy, and I hope that never changes. I hope I'm always that nine year-old kid, who for every day one summer fought Captain Hook with nothing more than than pudding sprayers, marble guns, and some fat kid who rolled down stairs. I hope I'm always young at heart. After returning from my two hours in Neverland that night, I was up until four in the morning thinking about it, truly inspired. Lately I've been trying to pin down ideas for my next screenplay, and trying to decide what type of film I should write. After re-watching Hook I now know, whatever the idea is, I need to create a world with the same magic as Neverland. I want to write something that makes me feel as giddy and adventurous as Hook does; something that's a monument to my still present child-like wonder.
Let the brainstorming begin...
4 comments:
Our "childish" dreams were a pure experience. A true desire, without restraint from society, history, religion or science. My passions today are fueled by my childhood fascinations. I am considered "childish" by some because I continue to study superhero mythology, dinosaur history and monster anatomy. I believe those people will never be happy. They forgot how to crow.
The things we loved then may have been designed for a child, but they were built by an adult. If the adults of today cast childish things aside who will inspire the youth of tomorrow?
UTLTRN,
I agree with you completely. I've always indulged certain childlike passions, but feel for the past couple of years- in my writing at least- I've ignored them for more "adult" fare. I just want to get back to my roots and remember what sparked me to write stories in the first place, way back when. The spark was always the fantastical- superheroes, dinos, and monsters, as you mentioned.
PS: I love that you study monster anatomy. I don't know how you study something so intangible, but I love it.
Crum...one of my all time favorite movies. Any time someone mentions Peter Pan to me,I don't think about the singing Disney version. Nope. I think about Lost
Boys chanting "Rufio! Rufio! Rufi... OOOOOOoooooo!"
This movie is the #1 thing I'm proud to say I've introduced little kids to. It all usually ends up with us playing pretend. I must say, I don't think I'll ever want to grow up. And if I do, I hope there is someone there to remind me how to eat imaginary, colorful food :)
Wendy,
I'm glad I'm not the only one out there with the Hook fetish. I once saw Rufio a couple of years back when I worked at the hotel. I wanted to scream "RUFIO!", but I was working, and he looked like he was ready to kill anyone who mentioned it. Maybe next time.
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