I'm not sure I ever really paid that much attention to Peter Pan before, but now that I've given it the minimal attention that it deserves, I've come to the conclusion that there's some really demented crap going on here.
In this particular version, Peter Pan (Jeremy Sumpter) is played by an actual boy, finally relieving the classic of questions regarding its butch lesbianism. However, this doesn't quite answer the various sexuality questions romping around the story with the subtlety of Al Sharpton in a tutu. Peter Pan is the boy who never grows up, which is great if you want to mince around in tights with your buddies all day. Unfortunately, Peter spies Wendy Darling (Rachel Hurd-Wood), and Wendy is a hottie. Wendy immediately realizes the growing bud of femininity rising within her, and wants to kiss him.
It would seem that this whole thing is a commentary on the fact that guys mature later than girls, because Peter is generally oblivious to Wendy's sexuality. However, he's such a foofy kid to begin with that we wonder whether he'd ever go in that direction anyway, or end up giving straight guys lifestyle makeovers with four of his closest friends.
So the filmmakers got rid of the questionability of the female Peter Pan, yet complicated things anyway by having the same actor, Jason Isaacs, play Mr. Darling and Captain Hook. In reality, Mr. Darling lacks self-esteem and is kind of a wuss. In Peter Pan's world, he's the bad guy, having gone up against the effeminate Peter and lost an arm to a crocodile. Okay, now tell me that isn't some kind of metaphor.
Combine this all with a theater full of innocent, unsuspecting children, and I think what you have is a recipe for dysfunction that borders on abuse.
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