TLB-complete
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.

[ previous | bottom ]

        41     INT. LEINSTER CORNER - STUDY. 1904. NIGHT

               Barrie paces about his study, evidently nervous at the
               prospect of his forthcoming ordeal. Both he and Mary Barrie
               are in evening dress, ready to leave.

               The only sign of Porthos is a large painting of him, hanging
               above the fireplace. He has been replaced by a huge shaggy
               Newfoundland dog, LUATH, who lies by the fire.

                                   BARRIE
                             (glancing at his fob)
                         What on earth can have happened to
                         them?

                                   MARY BARRIE
                             (calmly)
                         Oh, I expect they've been held up
                         in the traffic.

                                   BARRIE
                         I can see it's going to be a night
                         of disasters, I can feel it
                         already. "If you believe in
                         fairies, clap your hands" ... Poor
                         Nina, they'll laugh her off the
                         stage. Oh, I must have been half
                         witted to think I could pull it
                         off. It's not even the play I set
                         out to write.

                                   MARY BARRIE
                             (laughing)
                         It never is, dear.

                                   BARRIE
                         If only I'd had the...

               Barrie breaks off at the sound of voices outside.

                                   MARY BARRIE 
                         That'll be them.

               Mary Barrie goes to the door as GEORGE bursts in ahead of the
               others. He is dressed up for the occasion, his hair cut short
               and brushed flat with a parting. Barrie registers a look of
               shocked realisation at the stranger before him.

                                   BARRIE 
                             (disbelieving)
                         George ...?

                                   GEORGE
                         Hello, old crock - sorry we're a
                         bit late.
                             (preening himself)
                         How am I looking? Rather a knut,
                         don't you think?

                                   BARRIE
                         Yes, yes - quite the coming chap. I
                         shall have to look to my laurels...

               Sylvia has entered the room, followed by PETER, now aged
               eight, and Michael, last seen as a baby, but now nearly five.
               He is stunningly beautiful, with long blond curls and
               haunting eyes. Unlike George's boyish brightness at the same
               age, Michael has an almost tragic wistfulness that reflects
               "the poet in him, there since birth."

               Barrie's disappointment on seeing George is replaced by
               captivation at the sight of Michael.

                                   BARRIE
                             (to Sylvia)
                         Is this really Michael?

                                   MICHAEL
                         Of course I'm really Michael. Did
                         you escape too?

                                   BARRIE
                         Escape?

                                   MICHAEL
                         When we were being chased by that
                         man.

               Barrie looks at Sylvia in bewilderment.

                                   SYLVIA
                             (smiling)
                         I warned you, Michael's dreams are
                         as wayward as your own.

                                   BARRIE
                         Ah, but of course -
                             (to Michael)
                         You mean the man that looked like
                         ... like this.

               Barrie pulls a hideous face, which makes George and Peter
               roar with laughter. But Michael remains unmoved, gazing up at
               Barrie with an enigmatic expression, almost reminiscent of
               Barrie's dead brother David.

               A pause; Barrie glances round at the others.

                                   BARRIE
                         But - but where's Jack - and
                         Arthur?

                                   SYLVIA
                         I'm afraid Arthur's got another of
                         his toothaches - it's rather a bad
                         one, I'm afraid, and ... well, he
                         didn't want to spoil the evening,
                         and Jack decided to stay with him.

                                   GEORGE
                             (whistling)
                         Ho, hum!

                                   SYLVIA
                         No, no - really. He was so
                         disappointed, but his jaw's been
                         giving him rather a lot of pain
                         lately, and.....

                                   BARRIE
                             (only half believing)
                         Yes, oh I'm sure. Well I, er -
                             (turning to the boys)
                         Boys, I don't want to make a speech
                         or anything, but I - well I just
                         want you to know that if the play's
                         a failure, the fault is entirely
                         yours.

                                   GEORGE
                             (indignantly)
                         Why us?

                                   BARRIE
                         Because. Because you're the real
                         authors, it had nothing to do with
                         me. All I did was rub the five of
                         you violently together to make a
                         flame. That's all Peter is ...
                             (a crack in his voice)
                         Just the spark I got from you.

               Barrie coughs to disguise his emotion.

                                   GEORGE
                         I had nothing to do with Wendy!

               Mary Barrie laughs loudly.

                                   BARRIE
                         No, I admit she's a spark from an
                         entirely different quarter, for
                         which I offer my humble apologies.

                                   MARY BARRIE
                             (to Sylvia)
                         He'll wallow on for hours if we
                         give him the chance.
                             (to Barrie)
                         Come along, Jim the executioner
                         awaits.

               George and Peter lead the way out, followed by Sylvia and
               Mary Barrie. Michael and Barrie stay behind a moment.

                                   MARY BARRIE
                             (O.C., to Sylvia)
                         I'm so sorry about Arthur ... it's
                         nothing serious, I hope?

                                   SYLVIA
                             (O.C., barely audible)
                         Well we don't really know. He's
                         seeing a specialist about it next
                         month, but I - well I don't suppose
                         it's anything too serious ... just
                         rather a nuisance, that's all.

               A pause, then Michael holds out his hand to Barrie, who
               obliges him by putting his top hat on the boy's head. Michael
               takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. As he does
               so, a voice LAPS OVER -

                                   WENDY
                             (V.O., from stage)
                         ... and pen cannot describe the
                         happy scene over which we now draw
                         a veil.

               A pause, then the SOUND of a boy moaning in pain.

                                   WENDY
                             ( V.O., cont'd)
                         What is it, Peter? Where's the
                         pain?

                                   PETER PAN
                             ( V.O., from stage)
                         It isn't that kind of pain, Wendy.

        42     INT. DUKE OF YORK'S THEATRE - BOX. 1904. NIGHT

               Barrie stands at the back of the Royal Box, watching the
               first performance of "Peter Pan" with impassive apprehension.
               Seated in front of him are George, Michael, Sylvia, Peter and
               Mary Barrie.

                                   PETER PAN
                             (O.C., from stage)
                         0 Wendy, you're wrong about
                         mothers. I thought like you that 
                         the nursery window would always be
                         open, so I stayed away for moons
                         and moons, and then I flew back
                         home, but the window was barred. My
                         mother had forgotten all about me,
                         and there was another little boy
                         sleeping in my bed.

               CAMERA moves in slowly on Mary Barrie's reaction.

                                   WENDY (O.C.)
                         Peter, what are your exact
                         feelings for me?

                                   PETER PAN (O.C.)
                         Those of a devoted son, Wendy.

                                   WENDY (O.C.)
                         I thought so.

                                   PETER PAN (O.C.)
                         What is it you want me to be? 

                                   WENDY (O.C.)
                         It's not for a lady to tell.

        43     INT. EGERTON HOUSE - NIGHT NURSERY. 1904. NIGHT

               Arthur sits by a cradle in the night-nursery of the family's
               Berkhampsted home, Egerton House. He appears to be in some
               pain, touching his cheek occasionally while watching his
               fifth son, NICO, asleep in the cradle.

               Presently the door opens and Mary Hodgson enters.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         Excuse me, Mr Arthur, but it's time
                         for Nico's feed.

               Mary Hodgson goes to the cradle -

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (cont'd)
                         Would you care for something too?

                                   ARTHUR
                         No thank you, Mary. 

               Mary Hodgson lifts Nico from his cradle.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (cautiously)
                         I don't, er - wish to speak out of
                         turn, but I do understand how you
                         feel. 

                                   ARTHUR 
                         Do you, Mary?

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         I think so... I mean it must be
                         very hard for you at times.

                                   ARTHUR
                         One grins and bears it.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         It can't be easy for Mrs Barrie
                         either.

               Arthur hesitates.

                                   ARTHUR
                         I was referring to the toothache.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         Yes of course. I'm... I'm sorry if
                         I spoke out of turn.

               Mary Hodgson leaves the room with Nico. CAMERA HOLDS on
               Arthur as he turns and stares blankly at the empty cradle.

                                   WENDY
                             (V.O., from stage)
                         What's wrong, Peter?

                                   PETER PAN
                             (V.O., from stage)
                         It is only pretend, isn't it,
                         Wendy?

                                   WENDY (V.O.)
                         Is what pretend?

                                   PETER PAN (V.O.)
                         That I am their father?

               CLOSE SHOT: Barrie, standing at the back of the Royal Box.

                                   WENDY
                             (O.C., from stage)
                         But they're our children, Peter -
                         yours and mine.

                                   PETER PAN (O.C.)
                         Yes, but not really.

                                   WENDY (O.C.)
                         Not if you don't wish it.

                                   PETER PAN (O.C.)
                         I don't.

                                                       MIX TO:

               SHOOTING from the back of the stage towards the audience,
               Peter Pan (played by Nina Boucicault) lies on his back in
               foreground, fast asleep. From this angle, back-lit against
               the footlights, he is reminiscent of George at Black Lake,
               lying on the hillside, one leg arched, his head resting on
               his arm.

               The spotlight representing Tinkerbell suddenly flashes into
               CAMERA from the back of the theatre, then dances over Peter
               Pan's face, awakening him.

                                   PETER PAN
                         Who's that?

               The Orchestra responds with a tinkling sound on the
               triangles.

                                   PETER PAN 
                         Oh, Tinkerbell...
                             (tinkles)
                         What's that?
                             (tinkles)
                         The Redskins were defeated? Wendy
                         and the Lost Boys captured? I'll
                         rescue them, I'll rescue them!

               Peter Pan leaps for his dagger, then runs to his grindstone
               to sharpen it. Tinkerbell alights near a bottle of medicine
               on a table and tinkles out a warning.

                                   PETER PAN
                         Oh, that's just my medicine.
                             (tinkles)
                         Poison? Who could have poisoned it?
                         I promised Wendy I'd take it, and
                         take it I will as soon as I've
                         sharpened up my dagger.

               In the Royal Box, Michael leans anxiously forward, totally
               absorbed by the play. Peter, however, seems rather bored, and
               amuses himself by slowly tearing up the programme and
               dropping the bits over the edge of the box onto the audience
               below.

                                   PETER PAN
                             (O.C., from stage)
                         Why Tink, you've drunk my medicine!
                             (tinkles)
                         It was poisoned and you drank it to
                         save my life? By why, Tink? I don't
                         mind dying. Oh, Tink, dear Tink,
                         please don't die ...

               Michael turns to George -

                                   MICHAEL
                             (whispering)
                         What's the matter?

                                   GEORGE 
                         She's dying.

                                   MICHAEL
                         But why?
                             (to Sylvia)
                         Why's she dying?

                                   SYLVIA
                             (whispering)
                         Listen and you'll find out.

               Barrie grows visibly apprehensive as Peter Pan turns to the
               audience to make her plea -

                                   PETER PAN
                         Her light is growing faint, and if
                         it goes out, that means she's dead.
                         Her voice is so low I can scarcely
                         tell what she's saying.
                             (weak tinkles)
                         She says ... she says she thinks
                         she might get well again if
                         children believed in fairies. Well
                         do you believe in fairies?

               Total silence from the audience. Barrie closes his eyes.

                                   PETER PAN
                         Oh, say quick that you believe!
                         Don't let poor Tinkerbell die!   
                         If you believe, clap your hands.

               George raises his eyebrows.

                                   PETER PAN
                             (urgently)
                         Come on, clap your hands.. if you
                         believe!

               Another long silence. Then Michael begins to clap his hands,
               very slowly, but with steady conviction.

                                   PETER PAN
                         That's it ... louder, louder!

               Peter and George join in, followed by Sylvia, Mary Barrie,
               and others in the audience.

                                   PETER PAN
                         Oh, you do believe, you do!

               Barrie gradually opens his eyes as the belief spreads
               throughout the house, the clapping growing louder and louder.

                                   PETER PAN
                         Oh, thank you, thank you, thank
                         you! And now - to rescue Wendy!

               Peter Pan runs from the stage to a standing ovation of
               cheering, whistling and applause from the audience.

                                                       SHARP CUT TO:

        44     INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR. 1905. DAY

               The level of SOUND from the previous scene suddenly CUTS OUT,
               to be replaced by the chill silence of a bleak hospital
               corridor.

               Barrie and Sylvia stand outside the door of one of the
               private rooms. Presently the door opens and a doctor, RENDEL,
               steps out.

                                   DR RENDEL
                             (to Sylvia)
                         You can come in now, Mrs Davies,
                         but only for a moment.

                                   BARRIE
                             (to Sylvia)
                         Would you rather I waited outside?

                                   DR RENDEL
                         I think it would be better, if you
                         don't mind. 

               Rendel opens the door and Sylvia goes inside.

        45     INT. HOSPITAL - ARTHUR'S ROOM. 1905. DAY

               Sylvia enters the room, then stops and stares ahead of her.
               Only the back of Arthur's head is visible to the CAMERA, but
               from Sylvia's expression it is clear that he is much
               disfigured. There is a brief look of shock on her face, then
               she braces herself and moves slowly towards him, followed by
               Rendel at a discreet distance.

                                   SYLVIA
                             (a whisper)
                         Oh my darling ... please don't
                         cry.

                                   DR RENDEL
                         I'm afraid he can't help it, Mrs
                         Davies. Regrettably his tear-ducts
                         have had to be removed.

               A pause. Sylvia leans forward, wipes the tears away from
               Arthur's face with her handkerchief, then kisses him on the
               forehead. Still we cannot see Arthur's face - only the look
               of agony in Sylvia's eyes.

        46     INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR. 1905. DAY

               Barrie stands alone in the corridor. The door opens and
               Rendel leaves the room, ushering Barrie to one side.

                                   DR RENDEL
                         I'm afraid that the growth had
                         spread somewhat further than we
                         originally diagnosed, and we've
                         therefore had to remove most of the
                         upper jaw as well as the palate. 
                         I fear that as a result Mr Davies
                         will be unable to talk again. Of
                         course there's always the
                         possibility of fitting some sort of
                         artificial jaw, but - well, to be
                         quite frank, the results are hardly
                         worth the expense.

                                   BARRIE
                             (sharply)
                         I'm not interested in expense. I
                         want Mr Davies to have the finest
                         medical treatment available,
                         whatever the cost.

                                   DR RENDEL
                         I see. Well if ...

               Rendel breaks off as Sylvia emerges from the room. She gazes
               at Barrie with a look of bewildered incomprehension,
               oblivious to Rendel, who returns to Arthur's room.

               A long pause, then Sylvia slowly shakes her head.

                                   SYLVIA
                             (a whisper)
                         They've... they've ruined my
                         darling's face. They've ...

               Sylvia lets out a sudden cry of anguish, clutching at Barrie
               and sobbing uncontrollably on his shoulder.

               CAMERA HOLDS them in LONG SHOT, clinging to each other, alone
               in the bleak white corridor.

                                                       SLOW FADE OUT.
                                       PART TWO:
                                 Dark and Sinister Man

        47     EXT. KENSINGTON GARDENS. 1906. DAY

               [MAIN TITLES appear over a series of dawn images of
               Kensington Gardens, as at the beginning of Part One] 

               Barrie wanders along the edge of the Serpentine, jotting
               down ideas in his notebook.

                                   BARRIE (V.O.)
                         Peter Pan. New scene at end of
                         play. Years later, Peter flies
                         back to the nursery, still a boy -
                         heart-broken to find Wendy grown
                         old. Peter really the ghost of a
                         boy who dies in childhood, à la
                         David, comes back to search for
                         his mother, finds her an old
                         woman, doesn't recognize her.

               Barrie pauses by the oak tree where he first met George in
               1897. He looks at the gnarled roots, an idea forming.

                                   BARRIE (V.O.)
                         A statue of Peter Pan? Could
                         immortalize him for generations,
                         long after play buried and
                         forgotten. 
                             (beat) )
                         If I paid for it, could this be
                         deducted from income tax? 

               Barrie ponders a moment, then puts his notebook in his
               pocket and wanders off towards the Bayswater Road.

        48     EGERTON HOUSE - NIGHT NURSERY. 1906. DAY

               The night nursery is in semi-darkness, lightening as Mary
               Hodgson moves from window to window, letting up the blinds.
               Michael - now aged six - lies asleep in bed.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         Michael...

               Michael sleeps on, one arm drooped over the edge of the
               bed, the other curled about his head.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         Come along, Michael... 

               She gives him a little shake, and Michael stirs.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         Come on, wake up - the doctor'll
                         be here any minute, so we must
                         get you washed and scrubbed. 

               Michael opens his eyes. He is suffering from scarlet fever,
               and his face is as pale as alabaster. Mary Hodgson takes a
               thermometer from her pocket.

                                   MICHAEL
                             (sleepily)
                         I had such a funny dream, Mary. I
                         dreamt I saw father's ghost in
                         the garden, but that wasn't the
                         funny thing, the funny thing was
                         he wasn't a ghost at all...

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         I should hope not.

                                   MICHAEL
                         No, I mean he was real and I was
                         the ghost, because when he came
                         to touch me he went right through
                         me and fell in a river, and I
                         couldn't swim so I...

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (brandishing
                              thermometer)
                         Open wide -

               Michael's account is curtailed by the thermometer being
               thrust in his mouth. Mary Hodgson sits on the edge of the
               bed. She takes two letters from her pocket while holding
               Michael's pulse.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         You and your dreams... I wonder
                         you know half the time whether
                         you're awake or asleep.

                                   MICHAEL
                             (eyeing letters)
                         Are they for me?

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         No talking and I'll read them to
                         you.

               Mary Hodgson puts the second letter down on the bed, opens
               the first.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (brightening)
                         Ah, it's from your father. "Dear
                         Michael, I do hope the scarlet
                         fever has fled and that you will
                         soon be up and well again. I
                         wonder if your doctor is as kind
                         and as good as mine? I have three
                         pretty nurses to look after me,
                         but you have Mary 
                         Hodgson, who is worth all of mine
                         put together. I have been in
                         hospital so long now that it
                         almost seems like home.... 

               While Mary Hodgson continues reading, Michael eyes the
               second letter, addressed to "Michael Esquire, Esq., Egerton
               House, Berkhampstead." He edges a furtive hand towards it
               without Mary Hodgson seeing him.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (O.S., cont'd)
                         Mr Barrie manages to come and see
                         me almost every single day. He is
                         sitting with me now, reading a
                         newspaper. Don't you think Mr
                         Barrie is a very good friend to
                         us all?...

               Mary Hodgson's tone becomes somewhat frosty at the mention
               of Barrie, but Michael isn't listening: having opened the
               second envelope, he tries to decipher the letter, written
               in looking- glass writing.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (O.S., cont'd)
                         Now good-bye, my dear boy, and  
                         see you very soon. From your
                         affectionate father."
                             (folds letter)
                         There now, wasn't that a NICO
                         letter? You must write back as
                         soon as... Oh, Michael! You
                         haven't been listening to a word!

                                   MICHAEL
                             (thermometer in mouth)
                         Yes I have. Will you read me this
                         one?

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         I said no talking.

                                   MICHAEL
                         It is from Uncle Jim.

               Mary Hodgson picks up the letter, ignoring Michael's tease.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         So I see.

               She takes a hand-mirror from the bedside table and angles
               the letter into it.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (reading frostily)
                         Dearest beloved Michael, 
                         The Rose is red, 
                         The violet blue, 
                         Honey is sweet 
                         And so are you. 
                         J. M. Barrie.

               Mary Hodgson folds the letter without comment, takes the
               thermometer from Michael's mouth.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Is normal?

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (reading thermometer)
                         No. Now take off your nightshirt.

               Mary Hodgson goes to the wash-stand, fills a basin from a
               pitcher of water. She glances back at Michael, who is
               surreptitiously re-reading Barrie's letter.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                             (sharply)
                         I said take off your nightshirt.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Why do I have such bad dreams,
                         Mary?

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         I don't know to be sure. I've
                         never had a bad dream in my life,
                         except when I've had to do your
                         mending.

               Mary Hodgson returns to the bed, carrying the basin of
               water.

                                   MICHAEL
                             (baiting her)
                         Uncle Jim has nightmares.

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         I dare say he does - and I
                         shouldn't wonder if he's not to
                         blame for some of yours too.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Why?

               Mary Hodgson helps Michael off with his nightshirt.

                                   MICHAEL
                             (persisting)
                         Why, Mary?

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         Why ask me? You know him far
                         better than I do. Oh, just look
                         at the state of your neck! And to
                         think I only washed it a few
                         hours ago.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Can I write back to him?

                                   MARY HODGSON
                         You shall write to your father
                         first. After that you can write
                         to whomever you like.

               Mary Hodgson leans Michael's head forward, starts to scrub
               his neck.
[ top | previous | next ]

Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.