Controversy regarding Disney's "woke" Peter Pan & Wendy, directed by David Lowery, who co-adapted with Toby Halbrooks, is understandable, with rambunctious, male adventurers (and the rough, honest voices they spur) ostracized by the in-charge cretins who demand pacification over autonomy. (Hell, even a stage production featuring a svelte lady as the brazen boy would now be frowned upon due to of the character's mutinous spirit, unless of course, an official, gender reassignment were decreed, and even then, the dictatorial bums would probably see fit to replace impassioned cause with coerced indifference.)
Though there's much, indeed, to scrutinize, dislike and on occasion, maybe even appreciate about Disney's latest (it's-just-a-reverie) accommodation, it does adhere to J.M. Barrie's known structure, albeit with minimized Native Americans and Lost Girls masquerading as Lost Boys. It is, at best and most, a tepid, semi-sequel imprint of the kids-should-be-kids fable, with its major parts installed, but with too many of those distinguishing, adjoining ones missing or tweaked.
At least the cast does its best under the censored circumstances: Alexander Molony as Peter Pan; Ever Gabo Anderson (Milla Jovovich and Paul W.S. Anderson's daughter, by the way) as Wendy Darling; John Pickering as John Darling; Alan Tyduk as Father Darling; Molly Parker as Mother Darling; Noah Matthew Matofsky as Slightly; Jim Gaffigan as Mr. Smee; Alyssa Wapanatahk as Tiger Lily; Sabastian Billingsley-Rodriguez as Nibs; Yara Shadidi as Tinkerbell; and good ol' Jude Law as the vindictive (and in a way, can you not blame him?) Captain Hook. (Right down the line, the performers sink their mirthful teeth into their roles, even on those unfortunate moments when judgmental cries curb the enthusiasm. Thank goodness, they never slip into Marxist Potter-isms, for such would have surely sank it for one and all.)
The contention between Peter and Hook looks real spiffy against Neverland's seafaring backdrop. However, the adversaries rarely allude to Douglas Fairbanks (Sr and Jr) or Errol Flynn, and let's face it, even before those swashbucklers arrived, Barrie's book foreshadowed their essence within every nook of his never-grow-up strand. With such being grabbed from the guys, the torch-carrying instead falls to Wendy.
Though prominent in the famed text, as well as its many prior versions, Wendy becomes other than her once admired, maternal influence for this retelling (after all, mothering is so passé in an age of puppeteered politics), to the point that Disney might as well have designated her as the movie's sole, eponymous label. And maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if our leading lady did more than go through the motions, for mimicking virility is never quite the same as owning it.
By traveling a passive-aggressive path (even with a hardy stream of condescending winks and nudges), Peter Pan & Wendy seems to appease more than please, much like Disney's blighted Captain Marvel. The story has become a study in subtle, testosterone depletion and all geared for a "Do as I say, not as I do", cultural regime. (Rumor has it that Disney's gestapos wish to copy the tactic for a Star Wars: A New Hope redux, and I bet it's true.)
Nevertheless, at the end of the uneventful day, Peter Pan & Wendy will likely come and go, not influencing viewers much one way or the other, whether it be sons, daughters or any of those deserving-of-respect somewhere-in-betweens (and I reference the latter with utmost compassion and support), though I suspect there are other adaptations that would interest the first demographic more than this one; then again, so would Dirty Harry, Mr. Majestyk, Good Guys Where Black, Goldfinger, Tombstone, and well, you get the picture.
