Then I met James Barry.
Before watching this movie, I specifically read the introduction of the author on the cover of "Peter Pan", and it was only "The author was Sir James Barry, born in Scotland in 1860 and died in 1973. It is said that James Barry was awarded the British The royal title is because he wrote the blockbuster "Peter Pan" with simple words like "Peter Pan".
With pure eyes and a sad face, DEPP's Barry is not yet a jazz, just a kid lost in the adult world. Seeing the audience's mediocre response to his work, his world will rain; he will imagine himself walking into a room where birds and flowers are fragrant the moment he opens the door; he will dance with his dog, and imagine himself in a gorgeous circus tent. In this way, in an indifferent adult world, I created a warm corner for myself and four children.
The first laughter of every child at birth produces a genie, however when the children stop believing that there are genies in the world, the genie dies. We grow up gradually, helplessly watching our innocence be annihilated by the mundane and trivial real life. However, Barry silently insisted on this belief in his own way. He sticks a spoon to his nose with his wife's embarrassed look, takes the kids and Sylvia to the country house against the hype, plays pirate games in flared pants, shows up with an Indian headdress in spite of other people's eyes , seriously say to Sylvia that one day I will take you to Neverland.
I began to admire his courage, so I almost believed that this was a fairy tale movie, not a movie about the author of a fairy tale. It was not until Sylvia was quickly knocked down by the disease that she remembered that there is no Peter Pan in this world.
The children came to him, wanting to know something about their mother's condition, and asked him again and again if there was anything he could do. Barry can only say helplessly: "No, I don't know anything."
The world is so realistic and cruel that powerful forces bring everyone to their knees, including Barry.
He calmly said to his wife, "There is no such place as Neverland."
In fact, he didn't believe in the existence of elves, did he? He was just pretending, pretending to believe. In the end, he could only cry out sadly like a fragile child: "Faith can only change some things, but not all."
This is a cruel film, dressed in the disguise of a fairy tale.
From then on I can no longer read a simple introduction like "The author is Sir James Barry" in a calm mood.
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