Wendy (2020)

Score: 4.5 / 5

One of my favorite movies of 2012 was the indie smash Beasts of the Southern Wild, a brazen folklore coming-of-age odyssey through a Louisiana bayou community. Bound up with environmentalism were its central themes about age, race, gender, language, and community investment, and its sociocultural gumbo hit close to home for people far beyond its geographic specificity. But we haven't heard so much as a peep from its writer and director, Benh Zeitlin, since. Not, that is, until recently, when Wendy hit... a few cinemas? One of the greatest tragedies of early 2020, for me, was that Wendy was hard to find. At least where I live. It wasn't until it appeared, miraculously, on HBO Max that I was finally able to see it. And it quickly stole my heart all over again.

It's not really a surprise that Zeitlin decided on another story of children in the bayou, and while some will criticize his return to the same form so many years later, I will not. It's a gorgeous aesthetic, tied to timely and important messages, and nobody else is making movies like this. It's fresh and beautiful, endlessly inventive even as it reveals truths about hidden parts of our culture. Zeitlin effortlessly makes his bildungsroman about outcast children as much as it is about the planet we've used and abused to the brink of catastrophe. He structures his tales on the skeletons of myth, fleshing out the juicy bits while dressing the action in unfamiliar but effective trappings. More importantly, he proves yet again that budget does not -- and should not -- matter when it comes to real imagination. If anything, Wendy feels like an extension or companion piece to his earlier work.

And what a piece it is! Loosely inspired by J.M. Barrie's timeless classic Peter Pan, Wendy finds us centering our story, yes, on a young girl faced with the realities of a rough adult life in the rural U.S. south. We're placed seamlessly into her mind as her thoughtful, calm voiceover narrates the more abstract parts of the story. In many ways, it's a more palatable version of the Terrence Malick style, and here it works all the better due to our already-bursting knowledge of the source material. Who hasn't wondered what the harsh realities of children running away from home might look like from a child's perspective, or an island run by children and crawling with pirates? This time Peter Pan doesn't necessarily fly, but he flies on the top of a freight train, and I was more than willing to take that leap of faith after him.

I'd argue that this movie is, ironically, a bit more grounded than Zeitlin's earlier film, but that only serves to deepen my appreciation for what he's doing to the story and themes at work. Sure, we have the familiar moments, including the famed Peter Pan, a small Black boy whose shadow leads Wendy out to the fateful train. Even when things tilt -- during the train ride, a wonderful transition to Neverland -- into more fantastic imagery, we're treated to more than enough sensory details to keep things realistic, as when Peter mischievously pushes his charges off the train and into the muddy swamp. Even when on the island, which reads frighteningly close to Lord of the Flies (mercifully sans wild pigs), there are touches of whimsy, as when Peter and his lost boys, who indeed do not grow older, seem to control the island's volcano telepathically.

Could the magic of Neverland be little more than that of a childhood fantasy destination? After all, there is a volcano there. But there is more to it than that, a fantasy element that takes full form once the children go swimming under the island. There are no fairies or mermaids in this version, only the whale-like luminescent creature Peter calls Mother, who swims peacefully through the subterranean caves under Neverland. She's about as heavy-handed as the aurochs in Beasts, but there's no denying the children's belief in her life-giving magic. At least, for a time. The tranquil beauty of this Caribbean island is shattered when the children realize that loss of faith in the magic will result in their sudden aging.

Shocker? Perhaps not to us jaded viewers, but this horrifying development in the children's psyche manifests more like Lord of the Flies than I previously suggested. And Zeitlin, much to his credit, reimagines Captain Hook in such a brilliant way that I was moved to tears more than once. Watching the children grapple viscerally with the reality of mortality is more than I ever expected from Peter Pan, though the subtext is certainly there for those willing to lean into it.

And while I dearly loved the movie and look forward to another viewing, I can't rightly say I understood all of it. Especially in the middle, when various strands of plot and theme complicate themselves perhaps needlessly, I found myself daydreaming about the film's possibilities more than its presentation. That's not a great sign, and no doubt this is why many will surely decry it for cultural and racial appropriation, poverty porn, and exploitation of the same kind aimed at Beasts. While we can discuss these concerns, I'm not sure they're entirely valid as the movie has nothing, really, to say on the class or race of any of its characters (except that Peter is a Black boy while Wendy and her brothers are white, I'm not sure there's any other concrete example of racial dynamics at work at all). The island's population is more diverse than we are fully aware of, and they seem united by their alienation from the "real world." Age and gender, though, seem to be more of a concern, but only in thematic terms.

By the riveting climax, I hope you'll be as invested as I was. I wept openly multiple times, especially as the fight between Hook and Pan began, as they all sang for their dying source of magic, and of course as Wendy returned home. The famous final scene hits hard, as a grown-up Wendy... well, you know. I don't have to tell you. Just close your eyes and think of happy, wonderful thoughts.