Finding Neverland script

- (man) Lights up! - (man #2) Beginners, please!

- (man #3) Your five-minute call, sir. - (man #1) Places.

(man #2) Places. Everyone to their places.

(man #1) Sh. Quiet, everyone.

(man) Opening nights? I love opening nights.

(laughter)

- How are you? Good to see you. - (man #2) Good evening, Charles.

- (Charles) Sir Herbert, how are you? - This is my wife.

- Oh, Lady Herbert. - How do you do?

May I give you a peck?

(Herbert) One of Mr Barrie's finest?

(Charles) Oh, that genius Scotsman has done it again.

It's the best thing I've produced in 25 years.

I already have investors interested back home in New York.

- (Herbert) See you on Broadway! - (laughter)

(man) First positions, people.

(man #2) Standing by, please, ladies and gentlemen.

If you could take your opening positions, please.

Beginners, please take your opening positions.

Audience are coming in. Standing by.

- Good audience. - Sorry?

Good audience tonight.

OK. That's great, thank you. How much longer?

Um,ten minutes, sir.

(Charles) I love opening nights.

I want to dance with your wife at the after-party.

- Oh, my goodness. - Good evening, Mr Frohman.

- How are you, John? - Very well.

(Charles) It's the best thing that I've produced in 25 years.

- Hello, George. How are you? - Healthy and wealthy, I see.

(Charles) You've rearranged a holiday for me and I won't forget it.

- For you, Charles, anything. - You won't regret it.

(John) I'm sure.

- Have you got the tickets? - They're in my pocket.

- There's Mrs Barrie. - Oh, Mr and Mrs Snow.

We were so hoping to speak with your husband before the show.

- (Mr Snow) Have you seen him? - I'm not sure where he is, actually.

(audience murmurs)

(Mrs Snow) We do miss seeing you on stage. You were so wonderful.

Yes, well, it's been some time now. Are you right to find your seat?

Oh, yes, yes.

See you at the party, then.

Excuse me. Could you find Mr Barrie

and remind him that they're doing his play this evening.

- Yes, ma'am. - Thank you.

(Charles) Let's close the doors.

(applause)

(actor) Really, I mustn't inconvenience you in this way.

I can wait quite well in the shop.

'Tis no inconvenience. The shop is chilly. And there is a fire here.

(actor #1) Really, you are uncommonly good.

Sorry, sir.

Mrs Barrie wanted me to remind you that the play's begun.

- Though I imagine you know that. - They hate it.

- Sir? - It's like a dentist's office out there. Why?

- I wouldn't say they hate it, sir. - What do you think? Do you like it?

- I've just been hired here, sir. - Yes or no? I'm not bothered.

- I'm not really qualified to... - Do you like it? Is it crap?

- Crap, sir? - Go on, say it. Just say it.

It's shite, isn't it? Go on. Say it.

- Don't know if I'm... - "It's bull's pizzle, Mr Barrie." Go on, say it.

- It's bull's pizzle, Mr Barrie. - I knew it.

- No, I haven't even seen it. - I knew it. Thank you.

Thank you very much.

(actor) Might I knock a tune, milord, for a moment?

(rumble of thunder)

- I'm an old man... - (snoring)

..and I've seen few of the sights.

(man) Absolute rubbish from start to finish.

(man #2) Yes, I found it fearfully dull.

(man #3) Say goodbye to your investment, old boy.

Good to see you. My apologies.

We'll get them with the next one, Charles, I promise.

- Of course we will, James. - I know you put a lot into this one.

A fortune, James, but I am fortunate because I can afford to lose a fortune.

- Can you? - No, I can't. How are you?

- Arthur. - James.

You were sorely missed at the last club meeting.

Was l?

We were beginning to wonder which is your hobby, writing or cricket.

You wanted to speak with Mr Barrie, didn't you?

Oh, yes, but we shouldn't interrupt them, should we?

I don't see why not.

If you ask me, the problem lies in our batting order.

- James. - Hello, darling.

You remember Mr and Mrs Snow, don't you?

- Mrs Snow. - Mr Barrie.

Mr Snow.

The Snows have been waiting to meet with you all evening.

- (Mrs Snow) Oh, yes. - Is that right?

Your play this evening, it was remarkable, wasn't it?

Was it?

Well, thank you. That's very kind of you. I'm glad you liked it.

How did you feel it went?

- I think I can do better. - Really?

(ringing)

- Mary? Hello? - (distant) Yes, James?

I'm headed off for the park if you'd like to join me. It's a beautiful morning.

You'll be working, won't you?

Perhaps, yes.

I'll let you to your work then.

- Morning, Mr Barrie. - Morning, Emma.

- Have a good day, sir. - And you.

That's it. Go on, boy. Go get it, boy.

That's right. Good boy. Grab it. Good.

(woman laughs)

Who do you belong to? Come on, boy. Come on.

Excuse me, sir, you're standing on my sleeve.

Am l? So sorry.

I might point out you're lying under my bench.

I have to, I'm afraid.

I've been put in a dungeon by the evil Prince George.

I'm sorry if it bothers you.

Well, if you're trapped in the dungeon, there isn't much to be done now, is there?

Perhaps I could slide a key to you through the bars.

I wouldn't risk it, sir. The evil Prince George has tortured many men.

I'm sorry. Is he bothering you, sir?

My brother can be an extremely irritating sort of person.

Aha, Prince George, I gather.

I understand you are the horrible tyrant who imprisoned this unfortunate wretch.

I'm not horrible really, but a firm ruler, yes. Kind and tolerant.

And what precisely is... What did you say your name was?

- Michael. - What precisely is Michael's crime?

- He's my younger brother. - Ah.

- Fair enough. Sorry, lad. Cannot free you. - That's all right.

- Do you mind us playing with your dog? - No. Go on.

This is Jack, second in line to the throne and that one's Michael. He's only five.

And I'm in prison for it.

- I'm so sorry. Are my boys bothering you? - (Michael) We're not bothering him, Mum.

Michael, darling, come out from under there.

I can't. I'm in prison.

Oh, I see.

JM Barrie. Pleased to meet you.

JM Barrie, the author? A pleasure. Sylvia Llewelyn Davies.

- (Jack) Are you a writer? - I am.

He's a playwright, Jack. Quite a famous one, at that.

- I apologize. I imagine you're writing. - No. Not at all.

- Where's Peter? - What have you written, Mr Barrie?

Well, currently, I make my living entertaining princes and their courts

with my trained bear, Porthos.

If you command your brother, Peter, to join us,

I am willing, Prince George, to give you just such a performance

in exchange for the freedom of this prisoner, of course.

- Very well. - Very well.

Now...

I want you to pay particular attention to the teeth.

(Porthos whines)

Some unscrupulous trainers will show you a bear whose teeth have all been pulled,

while other cowards will force the brute into a muzzle.

Only the true master would attempt these tricks without either measure of safety.

- What did you bring me over here for? - (whispers) Peter.

This is absurd. It's just a dog.

Come on, darling.

- "Just a dog"? "Just"? - (Porthos whines)

Porthos, don't listen to him.

Porthos dreams of being a bear

and you want to dash those dreams by saying he's "just a dog"? (tuts)

What a horrible, candle-snuffing word.

That's like saying, "He can't climb that mountain, he's just a man."

Or, "That's not a diamond, it's just a rock."

"Just."

Fine then. Turn him into a bear. If you can.

Peter, where are your manners?

With those eyes, my bonny lad, I'm afraid you'd never see it.

However, with just a wee bit of imagination,

I can turn around right now and see...

the great bear, Porthos.

Dance with me.

(laughter)

(bear snarls)

(applause)

(crowd gasps and laughs)

Thank you. I don't think I've ever seen a performance quite like it.

We're here every day, and the bear is always more than happy to perform.

(Sylvia) Well, perhaps we'll see you here tomorrow then.

Perhaps.

- Peter, jump up please, darling. Quick. - (children) Bye.

Bye.

- Peter, didn't you enjoy that? - I've seen better.

Well, Michael wanted the bear kept prisoner with him,

and Peter insisted that Michael was hardly a prisoner

and Porthos simply wasn't a bear at all.

I do very much hope to see them tomorrow.

- What's her name? - Sylvia. Um...

Mrs... something Davies.

Llewelyn Davies?

- You know her? - I know who she is, of course.

Why, she's a du Maurier, for heaven's sake.

Her father was the artist. Her brother's the actor.

And there was something... tragic that happened with her husband.

Oh, yes. He died.

Cancer of the jaw, I believe.

That's horrible.

Yes. Apparently, he left her with four boys and no income to speak of.

If it wasn't for her mother's help...

James.

- We should have them to dinner. - Should we?

Absolutely. I've always wanted to meet Madam du Maurier.

Why, she knows practically everyone there is worth knowing.

- What are you writing about? - Oh.

Nothing of any great consequence.

I can't write.

Have you ever kept a journal?

Ever tried your hand at writing a play?

Well, then how do you know?

I know. That's all.

I see. Where's your mother today and the rest of the boys?

Home. Mother's got a bit of a chest cold.

I'm sure everyone would be happy to see you though. One afternoon.

I should leave you to your writing.

Peter.

I'll see you later then.

Why didn't you tell me, Charles? You knew it wasn't any good.

Why didn't you tell me. James? You knew it wasn't any good. Hm?

I took an extended lease on the theater, keeping the actors on.

- I don't have another play. - I'm sure you will.

- Won't you? - We'll see.

I need you to sign for the storage, Mr Frohman.

- (man) Lower. - (man #2) Easy does it. Take your time.

It was never meant to be taken seriously.

You know what happened, James? They changed it.

- They changed what? - The critics.

They made it important.

Hm?

What's it called?

What's it called?

- "Play." - "Play."

(whip crack)

(boys) Bang, bang, bang!

Bang!

Return the boy to us, you nasty lnjun.

Our people teach boy lndian ways, make him great warrior.

Our chief, Running Nose, never let him go.

Bang, bang, bang!

Me wounded, Peter. Time's short.

You go. Spread wings and soar like eagle above enemy.

Fly back to our chief. Tell her of my brave defeat.

That's crazy. Indians can't fly.

Of course they can. Go on, go on, go on.

Listen to us, boy. This lnjun kidnapped you.

Not true. We kidnap no one. You lost boy.

I teach you ways of the brave. I take you as my own son.

You are not my father.

(boys) Bang, bang, bang, bang!

- I've got him! - Let me go!

- (George) Stop it, you two. - Ooh, we are awful, aren't we?

- I'm warning you. - Oh, I'm scared.

Of course, you had a bit of fun for a change.

- (George) Stop it, you two. Get off! - (Peter) Don't.

- Jack! - (George) Stop it!

- (Jack) Get off, George! - (Sylvia) Peter.

- I'm terribly sorry. - No, it wasn't your fault.

I'm afraid it might have been.

To be honest, I'm just happy you got him to join in the game.

Oh, yes, I was a tremendous success.

Mr Barrie, it's more than I've been able to achieve.

Peter's a different boy since his father died.

You know, I don't think he's even had a good cry about it.

Well, grief affects us all in different ways, doesn't it?

Yes, it does.

Oh, by the way, my wife would like to invite you and the boys over to dinner.

Your mother as well.

Oh.

How kind. That would be lovely.

Well...

Don't you all look lovely in your little suits?

And, Mrs du Maurier, what a shame it is that we've not met until this evening.

How kind of you to say so.

Not at all. I can't tell you how many times I've been to a charity or a social event

and seen your name listed among the organizers.

It's the very thing I would love to do myself

- if I could just find the time. - (boys snigger)

My problem is in finding the time to do everything else.

At the moment I am running two households.

Sylvia believes she can get by without a housekeeper.

Mother.

My house is quite large enough for us all,

- but the idea of living with me seems... - Not now, please, mother.

- We help her keep the house in order. - Don't interrupt, George.

- Where did you get your manners? - Sorry, Grandmother.

Mr Barrie, I understand you've become playmates of my grandchildren.

- Oh, they indulge me, really. - On the contrary.

The other day we took to an exploration of darkest Africa in our garden.

But Mr Barrie was taken ill by the bite of a... What was it?

Tsetse fly. Quite horrible. www.130q.com

Yes, and he swelled to the size of a hippopotamus.

Fingers like sausages.

And we had to float in him down the river like he was a great bloated raft.

(Jack) But the fishing was good, wasn't it?

James.

- Please. - (boys snigger and laugh)

- (James) Bye. - (Mrs du Maurier) Thank you so much.

- (Mary) Lovely evening. - (Peter) Thank you. Bye.

- (Mary) Good night. - (George) Good night.

Well,that was a disaster.

(Mrs du Maurier) Painful. Utterly painful to see.

I don't know what you mean. I had a lovely time.

Oh, James, please.

"My problem is in finding the time to do everything else."

- I never felt so judged in my life. - Judged? How do you mean?

(Mrs du Maurier) A grown man, for heaven's sake,

playing all day long with children?

In any case, I hardly think they'll be the social contact we'd hoped for.

I hadn't really thought of them that way. I just enjoy their company.

He's been a good friend to us, Mother.

Yes. But what does that mean? Hm?

Surely you don't intend...

..to keep spending your afternoons with those children, do you?

And so today, ladies and gentlemen,

using only the wind and his own physical strength,

George Llewelyn Davies shall test the very limits of the atmosphere

using his tethered craft. Go on, boy.

- (Jack) Go on, George. - (Peter) You're going to break it, George.

- George, stop! - I just need a bit more speed.

(Michael) I want to do it.

Hold off a bit, George. I think it's in need of a tail.

(Sylvia) Oh, wait.

- Here. James,this will do. - That's a good idea.

- (George) No, it's not heavy enough. - (Michael) I want to do it.

- You coming, Peter? - (James whistles) Porthos!

It'll work this time.

Porthos, give us your bell. That's good.

- Michael? - Yeah?

- Now, would you like to give it a go? - Yes, please.

- (Jack) Oh, he can't run fast enough. - Of course he can.

- Let him try, Jack. - (James) Now, George, you hold the kite.

George.

Come on, boys, let's go back up to the top. Come on, Peter.

Right, George, hold it up. Darling, you've got to run now. Ready? Ready?

- Run! Run, Michael! - Run!

Oh.

- Oh, I told you this wasn't going to work. - I don't think he's fast enough.

It's not going to work if no one believes in him.

- Now, give him a chance. - Michael, go back to your starting position.

- Come on, darling, try again. - George, you take the kite.

Now this time, I don't want a flea's breath of doubt. We must get that kite in the air.

(Sylvia) Right. Look, I think I feel a bit more breeze. Are you ready, Michael?

- You can do it, Michael. - You've got to run. Run, Michael, run.

- (all) Run! - (James) That's it!

(George) Yes! He did it!

(Jack) Keep running! Keep running!

(bells tinkles)

What are you writing about now?

Oh, just making notes.

I'm never really certain what they're about until I've read them over later.

Something about the kite?

Now, why do you ask that?

I don't know.

If I were a writer I think I could tell a whole story about flying the kite today.

Perhaps you should then. That's a fantastic idea. Why not give it a try?

I hope you haven't been talking about anything too serious with this one.

No. Talking a bit of silliness really.

Can we have him for supper?

Have him to stay for supper, Michael. We're not cannibals.

You are welcome, you know.

(laughter)

Sylvia. Mr Barrie.

Where have you been?

Flying a kite, Mother, and having a wonderful time.

I'm sorry. I didn't know you were coming this evening.

No? Well, apparently you forgot then.

- I brought some supper along for us all. - You didn't need to do that.

Well,there's no food in the house, is there?

Really. You don't need to wait till the cupboard is bare.

Please, Mother. Come on, darlings.

Wipe feet. There's been enough tracking round here.

George, I thought you said you were going to help your mother take care of the house.

Coat, Michael, please. Yes.

- And... coat hanger. Good. - (Michael) Will we see you tomorrow?

No. You're going to be helping round the house tomorrow.

Mother, there is absolutely no need for this.

You can't do everything yourself.

Look at you. You're horribly flush. You're wearing yourself out.

Thank you for a lovely day, James. Excuse me, Mother.

So from tomorrow, we're going to have some discipline around here.

And not one of you will escape.

- Good evening, Mr Barrie. - Good evening, Sarah.

- Good evening, Mr Barrie. - Good evening, Emma.

You missed supper.

Perhaps I'll have something later. I have a bit of writing I wanted to do.

Are you sure? It was a lovely meal. Duck.

Sarah let Emma cook this evening.

Is that right? Listen, what would you think of loaning Emma out to the Davies

for the occasional evening?

They don't actually have a cook.

I take it Mrs Davies enjoyed the meal that she had here?

I imagine she could use an extra hand now and again. That's all.

That's very charitable of you.

Perhaps we can send over some of the silver as well.

And what about linen?

I wouldn't be surprised if some of hers was looking a bit shabby.

Please, Mary, stop.

Maybe she can send over some of the things we've run short on.

My husband, for example.

We rarely see him in this house.

That hasn't seemed to bother you for some time now.

(clatter)

(rumble of thunder)

(carriage draws up. horses whinny)

(James) Lords and ladies, His Royal Highness, King Michael the Benevolent,

protector of the realm.

(Peter) That scepter's made of wood.

Yes, well, we dream on a budget here, don't we?

No, I mean, everyone thinks it's made of gold, but it's just an old hunk of wood.

The means to an end, Peter.

What we've done is taken an old hunk of wood

and transformed it for all the world to see into the most magnificent gold.

- There you go. - What's this?

All great writers begin with a good leather binding and a respectable title.

Open it.

"The Boy Castaways."

"Being a record of the terrible adventures of the brothers Davies,

faithfully set forth by... Peter Llewelyn Davies."

Kipling would swallow his own ear for a title like that.

Stab him, George. You can do it.

I still have no idea what to write.

Write about anything. Write about your family.

- Write about the talking whale. - What whale?

The one that's trapped in your imagination and desperate to get out. Come sit down.

I have actually begun writing about the adventures of the Davies brothers myself.

- A play? - A play indeed, yes.

And I would be extremely honored

if you would allow me the use of your name for one of the characters.

I don't know what to say.

Say yes.

Good man.

Porthos! That's mine. Let go.

(Michael) I won't go to bed. I won't, I won't.

You should have been in bed half an hour ago, young man.

I'm afraid I've grown hopelessly lax in my discipline.

Nonsense. Young boys should never be sent to bed.

They always wake up a day older.

And then, before you know it, they're grown.

Their father would have been horrified.

Of course, he never would have allowed a dog in the house either.

He'd have tied him up in the yard.

Right! Last one in bed's a hairy toad.

You mean a lot to my boys, you know.

Especially Peter.

It seems to me that Peter's trying to grow up too fast.

I imagine he thinks that grown-ups don't hurt as deeply as children do when they...

when they lose someone.

I lost my elder brother, David, when I was just Peter's age.

And it nearly destroyed my mother.

James, I'm so sorry.

Your poor mother. I can't imagine losing a child.

Aye.

She didn't get out of bed for months.

She wouldn't eat.

I tried everything to make her happy, but...

she only wanted David.

So...

one day...

I dressed myself in David's clothing

and I went to her.

You must have frightened her to death.

I think it was the first time she ever actually... Iooked at me.

And that was the end of the boy James.

I used to say to myself he'd gone to Neverland.

Where?

Neverland. It's a wonderful place.

I've not spoken about this before to anyone.

Ever.

What's it like... Neverland?

One day I'll take you there.

(Charles) Wait a minute, James. He's a fairy?

Er, no. He's the irrepressible spirit of youth. Tinker Bell is the fairy.

- Tinker Bell is a woman? - She's not a woman. She's a fairy.

He is a boy who stays young forever.

James, how does anyone stay young forever? It doesn't work.

He just believes, Charles. He imagines life the way he wants it to be,

and he believes in it long enough and hard enough that it all appears before him, see?

James, I'm your friend. You're coming off a flop.

- You have a man who is a fairy. - No, a boy who has a fairy.

And this girl calls herself Tinker.

And you have a pirate ship on stage surrounded by tons and tons of water.

- That's a lot of water. - It's a lot of water.

- Yes, and that's a lot of money. - It is, but we can fake the water.

Oh, well, if we can fake the water then I'm sure your play will be a hit.

You know what I think I'll do? I think I'll imagine life the way I want it to be...

Long enough and hard enough?

Yes, and then the money for the play will appear magically before me.

- That's right. That's it. - Yes.

How does the clock wind up inside the crocodile?

- He swallows it. - Ah, of course he does.

(men) Out!

Howwas he?

- Well done. - (woman) Good show!

I finally get the courage to invite the boys to a game

and we have to suffer this grave humiliation.

It's perfect actually.

Spend a good deal of time with them, don't you?

Every moment I can spare, in fact.

I'm glad for you.

And Mrs Davies seems to be having a good time of it as well.

You should be aware though, James, what some people have been saying.

Mind you, I wouldn't bring it up if I thought the rumors would pass.

I'm not surprised. What are they saying?

Very well.

That you spend much more time with Mrs Davies than you do with your own wife.

She's a widow. And...

And a friend. That's it. Nothing more.

There have also been questions about how you spend your time with those boys.

And why.

That's outrageous. How could anyone think something so evil?

They're children. They're innocent children.

You find a glimmer of happiness in this world,

there's always someone who wants to destroy it.

No. Thank you, Arthur, but I don't think many will give credence to such nonsense.

Then why is no one sitting with them?

Once you get a bit of notoriety, James,

people watch you and they will look for ways to drag you down.

(Sylvia) Are you sure your wife doesn't object to us taking over your cottage

for the summer, James?

- She doesn't go there anymore. - Really?

It's such a relief to get away. You'll come and visit, I hope?

- Of course. Are we in? - Everyone in?

- Can I drive, Uncle Jim? - Er, no.

(laughter)

(horn)

Out of the way or I'll make haggis out of you.

(Michael) Get the sheep out the way.

(horn)

- (Peter) Are we there yet? - (James) Almost. Almost there.

(George) I can see the cottage!

- (Jack) Shall we explore, Michael? - Don't tear your clothes, please.

- Come on. Follow me. - (Sylvia) Be careful of stinging nettles.

(Jack) Hurry up, everyone.

- Would you like to see the rest of it? - Mm. Yes.

'Ello!

Thought you could escape from Captain Swarthy, eh?

Off to the ship with you, then. Off to the ship, son!

So now you can either choose to become a pirate with the rest of us,

or we'll toss you to the sharks.

- (Michael) How marvelous. - Well, maybe the crocodiles, eh?

- No one's escaped, Captain. - Excellent work, matey.

Now then.

Now is your only chance to speak.

Who amongst you is ready to tie your hopes and dreams to the sea?

- I am! - Not finished yet.

To enter upon the most dangerous chapter

in your young and soon-to-be-wasted lives?

(giggling)

What did you say? What are doing, son?

Are you giggling? On my ship? Giggling? What did you say?

- I said I'm ready, Captain. - What's your name, boy?

I'm Curly, the oldest and wisest of the crew.

Cut him loose, matey.

Welcome aboard, Curly. Your job will be to mop the deck.

And who be you, young squire?

My name be Nibs the Cut-throat. Feared by men and greatly desired by the ladies.

Jack!

Welcome aboard, Nibs. You shall polish all wood surfaces.

Grab a hold of that rigging.

- And you, lad? - I'm Peter.

That's not a pirate name. What about Dastardly Jim, eh?

No. Just Peter.

I like my name.

Very well.

In punishment for lack of an interesting pirate name, Peter shall walk the plank.

Cut him loose.

- What are you playing again? - The boy.

What have you got...? Excuse me.

Mr Barrie, sir?

There's been a mistake here, sir. It says here I'm to play the nanny.

- I don't imagine I quite fit that part, eh? - You're not actually the nanny.

You're a dog.

- What? - A Newfoundland.

We'll put you in a great big fluffy dog suit.

Rrr.

Oh, right.

Actually, we don't have a Tinker Bell cast, do we? He could play Tinker Bell.

Heavens, no. Tinker Bell's a light. It moves around the stage.

Just a wee light that moves around the stage.

Bit worried about this.

(Charles. under his breath) Let's see. We've got John Darling, Michael Darling,

Tiger Lily, Smee, Skylights.

It's a play for puppets. Tootles, Nibs, Curly.

All these names are abs

"Finding Neverland" is the story of a man who doesn't want to grow up, and writes the story of a boy who never does. The boy is Peter Pan, and the man is Sir J.M. Barrie, who wrote his famous play after falling under the spell of a widow and her four young boys. That Barrie was married at the time, that he all but ignored his wife, that he all but moved into the widow's home, that his interest in the boys raised little suspicion, would make this story play very differently today. Johnny Depp's performance makes Barrie not only believable, but acceptable. And he does it without evading the implications of his behavior: The movie doesn't inoculate Barrie as a "family friend," but shows him truly and deeply in love with the widow and her boys, although in an aual way; we wonder, indeed, if this man has ever had , or ever wants to.

The movie opens in 1903 in a London theater where Barrie, a Scottish playwright, has seen his latest play turn into a disaster. He needs something new, and quickly, because his impresario (Dustin Hoffman) has a lease on the house and needs to keep it filled. In Kensington Gardens, Barrie happens upon the Davies family: the mother, Sylvia (Kate Winslet), and her boys Peter, George, Jack and Michael. As he watches them at play, a kind of spiritual hunger begins to glow in his eyes. They represent an innocence and purity that strikes him so powerfully he's unable to think of anything else.

He becomes friendly with the family. Sylvia has recently become widowed and is not interested in a new romance, but then, curiously, nothing about Barrie's behavior suggests he's attracted to her in that way. He idealizes her, he obsesses about her boys, and when he talks about his own unhappy childhood we get a glimpse of his motivation; when his older brother died, his parents started calling him by the brother's name, and perhaps he felt he lived his brother's childhood and never had his own.

He plays games with the boys. He wrestles with a big stuffed bear. He leads them in games involving pirates and cowboys and Indians. He dresses in funny costumes. The children like him and Sylvia is grateful for his attention, especially since she has developed an alarming cough and he helps take care of the boys. The only holdout is Peter, played by Freddie Highmore in a remarkable
performance; if Barrie never grew up, Peter was perhaps never a child. He is wise and solemn, feels the loss of his father more sharply than his brothers, and boldly tells Barrie: "You're not my father." Nor does Barrie want to be; he wants to be his brother. Sylvia's condition worsens, and when the boys stage a play in the
family garden, it's cut short by her coughing. The boys are reassured that nothing serious is wrong, but Peter is sure they're lying to him about her illness: "I won't be made a fool!" www.130q.com

Two other women regard this situation with alarm. Barrie's wife Mary (Radha Mitchell) rarely sees him at home and is understandably disturbed about his relationship with the Davies family, although she is not as angry as she might be; there is the implication that she has long since given up on expecting rational behavior from her husband. He lives in a dream world, and to some degree she understands that. Not as sympathetic is Emma du Maurier (Julie Christie), Sylvia's mother, who as the widow of the famous George du Maurier moved in sophisticated circles and is not amused by a 43-year-old man who wants to become the best playmate of her grandchildren.

It is Barrie's innocence, or naivete, or perhaps even a kind of rapture, impervious to common sense, that steers him past all obstacles as he begins to form the idea of "Peter Pan" in his mind. The boys are his muses. He tries to explain his new play to his impresario, who has just closed one flop, doesn't want to open another, and is less than thrilled about a play involving fairies, pirates, and children who can fly. Depp in his scenes shows Barrie in the grip of a holy zeal, his mind operating on a private, almost trance-like level, as the play comes into focus for him. He knows, if nobody else does, that he is creating a myth that will powerfully involve children. His masterstroke is to invite 25 orphans to the play's opening night and scatter them through the audience, where their laugher and delight stirs the adults to see the magic in the play.

For Depp, "Finding Neverland" is the latest in an extraordinary series of performances. After his Oscar nomination for "Pirates of the Caribbean" (2003), here is another role that seems destined for nomination. And then think of his work in "Secret Window" (2004), the Stephen King story about the author caught in a nightmare, and his demented CIA agent in "Once Upon a Time in Mexico" (2003), and wait until you see him in "The Libertine," as the depraved and shameless Earl of Rochester. That the flamboyance of his pirate and the debauchery of the Earl could exist in the same actor as the soft-spoken, gentle, inward J.M. Barrie is remarkable. It is commonplace for actors to play widely differing roles, but Depp never makes it feel like a reach; all of these notes seem well within his range.

"Finding Neverland" is, finally, surprisingly moving. The screenplay by David Magee (based on Allan Knee's play) and the direction of Marc Forster ("Monster's Ball") manipulate the facts to get their effect; Sylvia's husband was still alive in the original story, for example, and her illness had not taken hold. But by compressing events, the movie creates for the Barrie character an opportunity for unconditional love. What he feels for the Davies family is disinterested and pure, despite all the appearances. What he feels for his wife remains a mystery, not least to her.

THE TALE of Peter Pan, the boy who refused to grow up, and the children he spirited over the sleeping rooftops of London and on to Neverland -- was there a better bedtime story? Don't even try to convince me there was. I know what I'm talking about: I flew there, too. So did others. Millions of them. Many are now sad-eyed, earthbound grown-ups, dragging their briefcases on to the crowded Metro or cursing behind the wheel on I-95. But I daresay many can remember the gravity-defying exhilaration of pure belief.

"Finding Neverland," starring Johnny Depp, is for the ones who remember, or want to.

Who was the genius behind all this? Who dreamed up Peter, Cap'n Hook, Wendy, Tink and the Lost Boys? That would be Scotland's own J.M. Barrie, the subject of Marc Forster's quietly enchanting "Neverland," whose 1904 staging of the play "Peter Pan" introduced flight and fancy to a sedate English stage.

Played by Depp, James Barrie is a childlike soul, a soft-spoken yet charismatic clown who's all but absent from his marriage with Mary Barrie (Radha Mitchell), but who's readily available to four children he meets one sunny day in a London park.

His magical ways with them charm the heart of their widowed mother, the ailing Sylvia Llewelyn Davies (Kate Winslet). Despite hostility from Sylvia's magisterial mother, Emma (Julie Christie), James becomes an essential family member, supervising imaginary games and trying to animate young Peter -- still emotionally withdrawn after the death of his father.

These children, we rapidly realize, will soon become James's inspiration for Peter Pan and the Darling family. James's Newfoundland dog will also figure in the story. So will Emma, whose surrogate figure will be Cap'n Hook.

"Is he in trouble?" young Michael asks aloud when Emma sternly asks James to have a private word with her. www.130q.com

The real story, as many a world-weary adult might tell you, is far different. There were five children, not four. Barrie was inspired by three families, not one. The head of the Davies family was not dead when Barrie met them. And there's no way the 5-foot-1 Barrie resembled Depp, handsomest man on the planet. There is also that never-proven intimation of pedophilia on the real Barrie's part, suggested by his obsessive interest in children and an emotionally lackluster, almost aual relationship with his wife.

But movies are about emotional truths. And scriptwriter David Magee (adapting Alan Knee's play) has taken that crucial time between Barrie's meeting of various children in the early 1900s and 1904 (when the play opened) and run with it. Flown with it, perhaps. How deeply appropriate for the man who conjured such blissful make-believe.

"Finding Neverland" is the story most people would want to hear, a film about the power of imagination in a hostile world. (There's an unintended chuckle, too, for Washington audiences, that has to do with "Redskins.") That world includes Emma's withering glances; Sylvia's onset of tuberculosis; Peter's resistance to fun; James's harried producer (Dustin Hoffman), who pressures him to write an instant and successful play; and the stares of those who disapprove of his peculiar relationship with someone else's children.

Depp is a charm. He becomes his own, subtly compelling Barrie. And his Scottish accent, I have to say, is more than close enough for Hollywood work. A man-boy who certainly ignores the responsibilities of his own marriage, he knows the score when it comes to preserving one's innocence. "Young boys should never be sent to bed," he warns Sylvia at one point. "They always wake up a day older." It's a super line for the movie, an even better one for life.

Because no one knows where genius, or even just plain old inspiration, comes from, it's a favorite game of writers, filmmakers and playwrights to try to guess. In "Finding Neverland," director Marc Forster -- working from a script by David McGee, adapted from a play by Allan Knee -- attempts to trace, in a manner more suggestive than factual, the roots of Scottish playwright J.M. Barrie's "Peter Pan." From what thin air did Barrie, who'd already written a number of successful plays, pull his ideas? And how does an ordinary mortal take a menacing pirate with a hook for a hand, a crocodile with a ticking tummy, and a flying boy who refuses to grow up and make any sense of it at all?

No one has the answers to those questions, and the director and writers of "Finding Neverland" don't pretend to, even though the picture is, as we're tepidly alerted at the beginning, "based on true events." What Forster is interested in here is less a biopic than a mapped lunar landscape of one writer's imagination. Forster has some good ideas here: A few of the fantasy sequences in "Finding Neverland" are lovely, and he stages a few brief scenes from "Peter Pan" in a way that gives us a sense of the impact the play must have had on straitlaced, bejeweled Edwardian audiences. But if "Finding Neverland" shows a bit more grace and surefootedness than Forster's last picture, "Monster's Ball," it just doesn't have the buoyancy, or the resonance, that this kind of semifactual flight of fancy needs.

It does, however, have Johnny Depp, as James Matthew Barrie. The movie opens in London in 1903, just as Barrie is coming off a less-than-successful play. His producer (played with amusingly distracted efficiency by Dustin Hoffman) isn't particularly troubled by the play's failure, but he is, of course, hoping the next one will be a hit. The problem is that Barrie doesn't yet have an idea for the next one. It's also clear that he and his coolly beautiful wife, Mary (Radha Mitchell), have a relationship that's affectionately businesslike and not much more.

One day while Barrie is having his outing in the park -- he goes there with his bear of a dog, Porthos, and spends the morning jotting down ideas for his plays while taking in, perhaps a bit wistfully, the life of the world around him -- he meets a family of four boys, ranging in age from about 5 to 12, and their widowed mother, Sylvia (Kate Winslet). He and Porthos entertain the boys with an impromptu circus show (it really amounts to little more than Porthos' ability to prop himself on his hind legs for a few minutes, but Barrie sets off the routine with a heck of a windup, which makes all the difference). And aside from the fact that Barrie is taken with their mother (she is, after all, the lustrous, wholly alive Kate Winslet -- how could he resist her?), he enjoys the children so much that he arranges to meet them again the next day.

If it's Disney (or its subsidiary, Miramax), it must be "inspired by true events." Or maybe it just seems that way. Those words, which appear in a caption at the beginning, are chose with care (more care than the similar preface to Hidalgo). Finding Neverland uses strands of historical fact to weave a story that is largely fictional. Yes, J.M. Barrie did write "Peter Pan," and, yes, many of the characters in the film existed, but this is predominantly a soft-ball approach to the inspiration that led Barrie to write his most famous play. For one thing, it almost completely ignores , which was certainly a fundamental element in Barrie's life. (The issue of pedophilia, which has dogged Barrie's reputation for a century, is briefly mentioned, then quickly dismissed, as if it isn't worth contemplation.) Still, even considering the liberties taken with the known record (and I have often said that movies should not be constrained by the same rules that govern history books), the end result is compelling and life-affirming.

The story is a nice mixture of drama, fantasy, romance, and tragedy, with no hints of some of the ugliness that marred the real J.M. Barrie's reputation. Barrie (Johnny Depp) is at the nadir of his creative powers, having just bombed with his latest play, when he encounters Sylvia Llewelyn Davies (Kate Winslet) and her four boys: Peter (Freddie Highmore), George (Nick Roud), Jack (Joe Prospero), and Michael (Luke Spill). Barrie strikes up a quick friendship with the Davies family, and soon is viewed by the boys as a favorite uncle. Suspicious of his new relationship with the children and their mother are Barrie's wife, Mary (Radha Mitchell), and Sylvia's mother, Mrs. Du Maurier (Julie Christie). This association frees the block on Barrie's creativity and he begins to develop "Peter Pan," which would be his most successful stage production.

Finding Neverland contains some stock elements, but almost all of them are done well. There's the platonic relationship between Barrie and Sylvia - something that, under different circumstances, might have developed into a deeper interaction. There's the give-and-take between Barrie and the boys (Peter in particular), as they release his creative energy and he gives them lessons in living. And there's the bitchy Mrs. Du Maurier, whose intense dislike of Barrie allows her to come as close as the film has to having a villain. She wants the writer out of her daughter and grandchildren's lives. www.130q.com

The manner in which director Marc Foster (Monsters Ball) mingles fantasy and reality is a little disappointing. Perhaps a comparison to something like Peter Jackson's Heavenly Creatures is unfair (although Kate Winslet's appearance in both makes it a natural contrast), but there are times when the interfacing of England with Neverland is prosaic. Neverland rarely seems otherworldly. The fantasy sequences (which are sometimes just playtime between Barrie and the children "amped up" by imagination) are only occasionally imaginative. There are a number of excerpts from "Peter Pan" (with Kelly Macdonald in the title role), but the lack of context might cause some confusion for those unfamiliar with the entire story.

If it sounds like I'm being overly harsh to Finding Neverland, I don't mean to be. It's a fine fictionalized bio-pic, and it hits all the right buttons. Plus, there's enough bitterness in the ending to avoid the happy sense of closure from becoming cloying. Dustin Hoffman, as Barrie's producer, Charles Frohman, gets his share of laughs with a droll performance. And, while Depp isn't nearly as flamboyant as he was in Pirates of the Caribbean, he nevertheless brings a lot of energy and a weird accent to his portrayal. Kate Winslet, who has suddenly become a rarity at the cinema, is solid as usual as Sylvia, a character whose complexities are only hinted at. Of the boys, the standout is Freddie Highmore, who does an excellent job with the difficult part of a boy who is having trouble dealing with grief and its associated guilt.

Finding Neverland is best described as a "safe" movie. It does what it sets out to do, but never attempts anything risky. It is by turns tender, humorous, and touching, but it never attempts anything that would elevate it to the next level. This is solid but unspectacular entertainment, and most who see it will leave theaters satisfied, although not overwhelmed. Finding Neverland deserves a recommendation because it works on an emotional and, to a lesser degree, intellectual level.