The Lost Boys - Part 3
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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THE LOST BOYS
PART 3
An Awfully Big Adventure
91 EXT. KENSINGTON GARDENS. 1913. DAY
[MAIN TITLES appear over a series of dawn images of
Kensington Gardens, as at the beginning of Parts 1 and 2]
Barrie and Michael, now aged 13, stand beneath umbrellas,
looking up at Sir George Frampton's statue of Peter Pan,
newly erected in May, 1912.
MICHAEL
He doesn't look much like me, does
he.
BARRIE
No, I fear something's been lost in
the translation. It doesn't show
the Devil in him.
Michael smiles as they walk away along the tow-path by the
edge of the Serpentine.
MICHAEL
You're going to miss me something
shocking when I go to Eton.
BARRIE
How do you know?
MICHAEL
Mary says so.
BARRIE
Oh, does she indeed. And what other
pearls of wisdom has Mary got to
offer?
MICHAEL
She thinks you spoil me. She says
my socks cost you twelve-and-six -
a pair.
BARRIE
Hmm. Well for her information - and
yours - I shall miss your socks far
more than you. That dazzling
creature Michael has already gone
whistling down the wind, but your
socks are as glorious as ever.
MICHAEL
I trust you're not becoming
sentimental?
BARRIE
At twelve-and-six a pair?
Michael laughs, CAMERA HOLDING as they walk on through the
rain.
92 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - DRAWING-ROOM. 1913. NIGHT
CLOSE SHOT: A large portrait of Sylvia hangs above the
fireplace in the darkened drawing-room.
BARRIE (V.O.)
My dearest Sylvia,
Three years since those last days
at Ashton, and time again to give
you an account of the boys'
progress, though I am certain
enough that you have your eye on
them still, even in death...
Barrie sits at a small bureau at the far end of the room,
writing a letter.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
George is up at Cambridge, and has
now come to twenty years. When I
first saw him, I told you he was a
gorgeous boy, and long afterwards I
discovered that you thought I'd
been singularly happy in my choice
of adjectives. May all turn out as
you and Arthur would have wished.
It rests mainly with him, but I
like to try and help....
Barrie pauses as he hears an indistinct sound from somewhere
in the house.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
All the boys greeted my baronetcy
news with utter contempt...
(rethinks it)
...with heartless derision, which
naturally enough delighted me
enormously. Peter and Jack are both
away on training, and Michael is
about to start at Eton, so soon I
shall be alone again, with only
doodle Nico for company...
MICHAEL
(calling, O.C.)
Come out!
Barrie reacts to the cry with anxious familiarity. He gets up
and goes to the door.
93 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - STAIRS & LANDING. 1913. NIGHT
Michael stands at the top of the stairs in his nightshirt,
walking in his sleep and shouting at some unseen foe.
MICHAEL
Come out so's I can see you! You
shan't frighten me... nothing
frightens me!
Barrie climbs the stairs towards him. It is a sight he has
evidently witnessed many times.
BARRIE
It's alright, Michael - there's no
one there...
MICHAEL
(ignoring him)
...through the water, spinning
water - I can see him - yes, there
he is - come out and take me!
MARY HODGSON (O.S.)
Michael?
Barrie reaches Michael, guides him back along the landing -
BARRIE
There, there, it's alright...
94 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - MICHAEL'S BEDROOM. 1913. NIGHT
Barrie leads Michael back to his bed -
MICHAEL
White mists spinning in... Can't
see him any more - all going misty
white...
Mary Hodgson enters the room, a shawl wrapped about her
shoulders.
MARY HODGSON
I can manage, Sir James. He often
gets these nightmares.
BARRIE
(tersely)
I'm well aware of that.
(to Michael)
Come on, Michael - you're quite
safe now.
MICHAEL
Spinning mists, take me down...
Can't swim - try - can't... Deeper
down, down...
Barrie guides him back into bed and tucks him in while Mary
Hodgson stands by, irritated by Barrie's encroachment on her
domain.
BARRIE
(to Michael)
There we are, in we get. All over
now, it's all gone.
Barrie strokes Michael's forehead, and the boy closes his
eyes. A pause, then Barrie walks back to the door.
BARRIE
(to Mary Hodgson)
I think I'll sit with him for a
while - I'll just get a newspaper.
95 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - STAIRS & HALLWAY. 1913. NIGHT
Barrie walks downstairs, followed by Mary Hodgson.
MARY HODGSON
But Sir James, I understood you
were returning to the Adelphi.
BARRIE
I can just as easily work here.
Besides, I like sitting with
Michael. I think he rather likes it
too.
MARY HODGSON
I dare say, but the boys are my
responsibility.
BARRIE
Our responsibility.
Barrie returns to the drawing-room, leaving Mary Hodgson on
the stairs. She hesitates a moment, then reluctantly goes
back to her own bedroom.
96 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - DRAWING-ROOM. 1913. NIGHT
Barrie collects a newspaper, and is about to leave when he
remembers his letter to Sylvia. He walks over to the bureau,
picks up the letter and takes it over to the fireplace.
Kneeling by the fire beneath the portrait of Sylvia, Barrie
tucks the letter into the flames.
BARRIE (V.O.)
The only ghosts who creep back
into this world are dead young
mothers returning to see how
their children fare....
CAMERA moves in on the letter as it catches fire,
DISSOLVING INTO:
97 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - MICHAEL'S BEDROOM. 1913. DAY
CLOSE SHOT: Michael asleep, lit by the early morning light
filtering in between the curtains. Barrie's VOICE-OVER
continues without a break from the preceding scene.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
Would Sylvia recognize Michael if
she were to come back now? Michael
thinks I'm being sentimental,
doesn't see that the boy in him is
already dead; in his place: a
stranger.
Barrie sits in a chair at the foot of Michael's bed, writing
in his little notebook while observing Michael asleep.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
If Michael had died at twelve, he
would have stayed a boy forever,
just as David did...
(an idea)
Hmm. Could work this into my Mary
Rose story. Mother dies, comes back
to look for her boy. She's still as
young as the day she died, but her
boy has grown up - she doesn't
recognize him, à la Peter Pan and
Wendy.
MICHAEL
(O.C., sleepily)
Uncle Jim?
Barrie glances up to find Michael looking at him.
BARRIE
Good morning.
MICHAEL
Was I at it again?
BARRIE
You were. Can you remember it?
MICHAEL
Only you.
(pause)
Why do I have such nightmares?
BARRIE
Oh, it's a sign of great
imagination - one of the many
prices one must pay for genius. I
myself suffer from them constantly.
MICHAEL
(smiling)
I hope I won't get them at Eton.
BARRIE
You won't.
MICHAEL
Why not?
BARRIE
Because I won't be there to inspire
them.
Barrie pinches his toes at the bottom of the bed as Mary
Hodgson enters, followed by Nico, now aged ten.
MARY HODGSON
Good morning, Michael.
(a nod to Barrie)
Sir James.
NICO
(brightly)
'Morning, Uncle Jim -
(to Michael)
Mary says you were walking in your
sleep last night...
MARY HODGSON
(sharply)
Nico! What did I just tell you? Now
run along downstairs and help Amy
lay the breakfast. Come along,
Michael, you too - we've a lot to
do if we're to get you off on time.
Barrie gets up, winks at Michael, then starts to follow Nico
from the room.
MARY HODGSON
(to Michael)
I've packed your overnight
suitcase, but I seem to be a grey
sock short. Can't find it anywhere.
(to Barrie)
You haven't seen it, have you, Sir
James?
BARRIE
No, no.
Barrie lifts his trouser-bottoms: he is wearing one black
sock, one grey one. Without further comment, Barrie coasts
from the room.
MARY HODGSON
(irritated, to Michael)
Come on, no dawdling. And don't
forget to scrub your neck.
98 INT. ADELPHI TERRACE - STUDY. 1913. DAY
Barrie returns to his Adelphi Terrace flat, overlooking the
River Thames. A small hallway leads into an enormous panelled
study, filled with a sprawling assortment of chairs and
sofas, bookcases and shadowy corners. The walls and ceiling
are stained dark brown, and the only light-source is from
seven panoramic windows, which give it the appearance of a
Captain's cabin on board a sailing ship. A huge fireplace
cavern, or inglenook, dominates one end of the room, housing
a threadbare sofa, a wooden settle opposite, and a large
mound of smoking ash between them.
Many of the objects in the study have been seen in Barrie's
previous homes at Leinster Corner and Black Lake Cottage, but
there are now many more photographs of Sylvia and her five
boys. Three photographs in particular hang between the
inglenook and the main bookcase: George in his Eton Cricket
XI, Michael aged 12 fishing in the Outer Hebrides, and Nico
in prep-school uniform.
Barrie wanders along the hallway and into the study, followed
by his manservant BROWN, who wears the clothes and expression
of an undertaker.
BROWN
Mr Frohman telephoned from New
York, Sir James - he'll ring again
tomorrow. Oh, and the Editor of The
Times, to remind you about your
article on Captain Scott... he'd be
grateful if you could send it over
some time tomorrow.
BARRIE
Thank you, Brown.
Barrie takes off his shoes, replaces them with carpet
slippers, then settles himself in an armchair as Brown brings
him a whisky and the evening paper.
BROWN
I believe Mrs Brown has some
haddock prepared for your supper.
BARRIE
Er - no thank you, Brown.
BROWN
Very good, Sir James. Will you be
requiring anything further tonight?
BARRIE
No thank you, Brown.
BROWN
Then I'll bid you good night, sir.
BARRIE
Good night.
Brown goes, leaving Barrie alone. He glances through the
paper, then deposits it on the floor and stares at his desk,
situated in the middle of the room. The study is in silence,
broken only by the faint sound of tugs hooting on the river,
and the distant chimes of Big Ben.
A long pause. Barrie waits for the last chime of the hour to
die away; then, with a heigh-ho sigh, he gets up and walks
over to his desk.
In LONG SHOT, Barrie sits down, searches for a clean sheet of
paper amid the debris, and starts to write, but without
enthusiasm.
BARRIE
(mumbling)
I've always had a passion for
adventurers, and Captain Scott was
no exception. He was also my
friend.
A pause, then Barrie screws up the sheet of paper, dispatches
it into the wastepaper basket, and starts again.
BARRIE
Almost every Briton alive feels
prouder these days because, er -
because of a scrap of paper, found
6,000 miles away in a snow-bound
tent - prouder because of what...
no, prouder because he knows that
the breed lives on...
With growing frustration, Barrie consigns his second attempt
to the wastepaper basket. He glances round the room for
inspiration, then pauses, his attention caught by the
photograph of Michael, aged 12, hanging on the wall.
He turns back to his desk, extracts a sheet of writing-paper,
and begins to write, his apathetic mumblings now replaced by
the intimacy of VOICE-OVER -
BARRIE (V.O.)
Dearest Valentine, I believe that
when Daniel Defoe was describing
his desert island, he was... he was
describing London without Michael.
HOLD a BEAT as Barrie looks up, almost into CAMERA.
99 INT. SAVOY GRILL ROOM - FROHMAN'S CORNER. 1914. DAY
Barrie and George, now aged 20, sit at Frohman's Corner
Table, drinking coffee after lunch. George looks at several
snapshots of a Scottish shooting lodge, Auch Lodge, while
Barrie talks.
In the background, sitting at the table behind them, are TWO
ARMY OFFICERS.
BARRIE
But he's an Oppidan scholar - top
of his division - Captain of the
Under Fourteen-and-a-Halfs - more
prizes in one year than you and
Peter put together... so why's he
so miserable?
GEORGE
Oh, he'll settle in yet.
BARRIE
Yes, but a year! You took to Eton
your first day.
GEORGE
I'm not Michael.
BARRIE
That's what his tutor keeps saying -
if only Michael were more like
George.
GEORGE
Ah, but I'm an eternal optimist.
BARRIE
All lazy men are.
GEORGE
Well thank God Michael's not,
otherwise you'd have two abandoned
young debauchees on your hands
instead of one. I say, this Auch
Lodge place looks quite a spot.
What's the fishing like?
BARRIE
Excellent in August, if we were
going in June, and excellent in
June as we're going in August. You
know, I'm wondering... I wonder if
his health isn't to blame in some
way - he's always been on the frail
side.
GEORGE
There was nothing very frail about
him up at Ammhuinsuidh when he
landed that salmon. If you ask me,
Uncle Jim, you worry far too much
about him. What date are we going
up to Scotland?
BARRIE
But he needs me.
GEORGE
Does he?
BARRIE
Of course he does, otherwise why
would he write to me every day?
GEORGE
(surprised)
Every day?
BARRIE
Every day.
GEORGE
And you write back to him?
BARRIE
Every day.
A beat.
GEORGE
August the what?
BARRIE
August the first. Why, does that
strike you in some way?
George makes a note of the date in his 1914 diary.
GEORGE
(writing)
I think it does rather. And I'm not
altogether sure I think it's a good
thing.
BARRIE
Why not?
GEORGE
Oh, I don't know. When I was at
Eton, I was far too busy getting on
with my life there to get homesick.
It was hard enough to get me to
write to mother once a week, let
alone every day. And yet I'm sure
she preferred it that way. She
never was the clinging type.
BARRIE
I cling to no one against their
will.
GEORGE
No, but you have a way of bending a
boy's will. You can be like a Black
Spider to a trout when you want to
be.
George smiles affectionately.
BARRIE
(flattered)
I never hooked Jack.
GEORGE
You never wanted Jack. But you
hooked me... hook, line and
sinker.
BARRIE
No no, it was you who hooked me -
you, and your depraved ways, and
your heartless smile. I could have
gazed at that smile all day, but
you used to wrinkle up your nose
and say, "Mr Barrie, why do you
look at me so?"
GEORGE
(lightly)
I should have kicked you instead.
BARRIE
You did. Very hard. But then you
were always kicking me.
(pause)
Always loved to be kicked by you.
Barrie touches George's wrist, smiles at him wistfully. There
is an almost perfect understanding between them, and although
George may be critical of Barrie at times, it is always
mellowed by deep affection.
GEORGE
(glancing at diary)
Now if we're going up to Scotland
on the first, can I go off to Italy
for a couple of weeks in July when
I get back from Cambridge? Micky
Lawrence knows a friend we can stay
with near Venice.
BARRIE
Yes, by all means.
The Head Waiter hands Barrie the bill.
BARRIE
(signing bill)
Of course I'm fooling myself... He
doesn't need me.
GEORGE
Oh, I expect he does. Uncle Gerald
says you've got Gaby Deslys to play
Rosy Rapture in your new review.
Have you met her yet? I think she's
an absolute poem!
Barrie hands the bill back to the Head Waiter.
HEAD WAITER
Thank you, Sir James.
BARRIE
(almost to himself)
He writes to me, but he's no longer
writing to me. He runs to me, but
he's no longer running to me. I can
tell. He seems to be running to me,
but he's actually running along a
road that is carrying him still
more rapidly in the opposite
direction.
George makes no response. His attention has been caught by
the TWO ARMY OFFICERS; he watches them as they leave the
Grill Room, the familiar wistful look in his eye.
100 INT. ADELPHI TERRACE - STUDY. 1914. DAY
Barrie, Michael, Nico, George, and CHARLES Frohman sit at
one end of Barrie's Adelphi study, watching GABY DESLYS
sing a ragtime duet, Same Sort of Girl, with the song's
composer, JEROME KERN, at the piano. Gaby is a phenomenon
a French music-hall star whose blatant sex-appeal and
scandalous private life more than compensate for her
limited talent.
Frohman follows her performance from a script entitled
"Rosy Rapture, Or The Pride of the Beauty Chorus". He has
aged considerably since his last appearance in 1906, and
now has to move about with the aid of a stick.
George stands behind Barrie, who is seated between Michael
and Nico. He is evidently captivated by Gaby's appeal, and
she in turn plays up to his admiring gaze, moving her body
provocatively and pursing her lips at him. Nico shares
George's enthusiasm, but Michael looks thoroughly bored by
it all.
"SAME SORT OF GIRL"
KERN: I won't deny I've had fancies galore,
Say three or four...
GABY: Well, maybe more...
KERN: I've often thought, this one I truly adore,
GABY: Then in a minute You'd find there was nothing in it.
BOTH: Same sort of girl and the same sort of boy,
KERN: Same sort of whirl in the same round of joy,
GABY: Same "making eyes" and the same tender sighs,
KERN: Same moonlight walk, same silly talk,
GABY: Same old duet sung by Adam and Eve,
KERN: Same sort of fibs that no one can believe,
GABY: I thought the old game was one that I knew,
KERN: But it's so different with -
GABY: But it's so different with -
BOTH: But it's so different with you!
George claps loudly at the end of the song. So too does
Nico, but Michael remains unimpressed, and goes back to
reading a newspaper lying on the ground at his feet.
FROHMAN
Tell me, Gaby, do you intend
performing like that in front of an
audience?
GABY
(pronounced French accent)
You do not like, Monsieur Frohman?
FROHMAN
Sure, but then I'm not the Lord
Chamberlain. He can be pretty
narrow-minded about your sort of
talent, and if you go performing
like that on a London stage, you
won't be needing a producer -
you'll be needing a lawyer.
GEORGE
I'll be your lawyer, Gaby.
GABY
Merci, Georges.
Frohman consults his script.
FROHMAN
Now we can skip the next bit of
business and go straight onto
"Which Switch...
(gets tongue-tied)
Switch Which?
NICO
(all-at-once)
"Which Switch is the Switch, Miss,
for Ipswich?"
FROHMAN
Or words to that effect.
GABY
Can we not have the bit of
business?
FROHMAN
We don't have Leon Quartermaine.
GABY
Peut-être Georges...?
George looks eager, but a little shy.
NICO
Oh go on, George!
GEORGE
But I don't know the words.
GABY
You can read from Monsieur
Frohman's script.
Gaby takes the script from an amused Frohman and hands it
to George.
GEORGE
Alright, I'll do my best.
While George follows Gaby back to the piano, Barrie glances
at Michael.
BARRIE
What think you, O dour, dark and
impenetrable one?
NICO
(eagerly)
Topping!
BARRIE
I was referring to Michael.
(pause)
Well?
MICHAEL
It's not really your sort of thing,
Uncle Jim.
BARRIE
Perhaps you'd care to address your
complaints to the producer?
FROHMAN
Don't look at me, Michael - it
wasn't my idea. But I must confess
that I share Nico's enthusiasm for
Mam'selle Gaby Deslys.
MICHAEL
She's alright, I suppose, if you
like that sort of thing. Personally
I'm a vegetarian.
Michael returns to his newspaper as George and Gaby continue
the performance.
GEORGE
(reading from script)
"Ah, Miss Rapture I presume."
GABY
"I'm so sorry to have kept you
waiting, but I was having a few
cherries."
GEORGE
"Quite so. All take ten minutes
while Rosy Rapture has her
cherries."
Gaby offers George her bag of cherries.
GABY
"Have one?"
GEORGE
"No."
Gaby puts the stalk of a cherry in her mouth and offers it to
George.
GABY
"Have one?"
George is sorely tempted to take the cherry with his own
mouth...
NICO
(calling, O.C.)
Go on, George!
George goes back to reading from the script.
GEORGE
"Go on, you baggage, give them the
music cue."
Gaby smiles seductively at him.
GEORGE
"What's that meant to be?"
GABY
"It's my Number Two smile."
GEORGE
"Who wants your Number Two smile?
Give me your Number Three pout."
Gaby pouts.
GEORGE
"That's better. You can certainly
pout, my girl, but it's about all
you can do, so hang on to it."
GABY
That was very good, Georges - très
bien.
Gaby kisses George as JEROME KERN plays the intro to the
refrain of "Same Sort of Girl". CAMERA favours Barrie,
watching them.
BARRIE (V.O.)
Gaby telling me of her lovers - "It
costs so little, and it gives them
so much pleasure."
(pause)
George when a little boy in the
Kensington Gardens, holding my hand
and asking me what love was. Told
him then, couldn't now. How best to
advise him when I made such a mess
of my own marriage? Better not to
advise, let youth go its own way.
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.