Peter Pan (1924)

Peter Pan (1924), directed by Herbert Brenon, 3.5 stars

There’s really no need to recount the plot of Peter Pan; the original stage play, written by James Barrie in 1905, his expanded novel several years later, and the many subsequent incarnations on stage and screen are so well-known that the story has become part of the cultural fabric throughout most of the English-speaking world.  The 1924 silent film starring Betty Bronson as Peter in her first starring role was the earliest filmed version that I’m aware of, and it alternately closely follows and freely takes liberty with the source material.

George Ali in his only appearance on film (according to IMDB) is wonderful as Nana, the faithful watchdog, who is sent to the doghouse on the night of Peter’s arrival and, thus, is unable to intervene on the children’s behalf.  Not that they would have wanted her to.  They are positively rapt with the prospect of flying off to Neverland to cavort with pirates and mermaids and Peter’s band of lost boys.  Betty Bronson captures all of the charm of the self-absorbed Peter, perhaps, borrowing from Maud Adams, who first played him on the Broadway stage.  Bronson is no doubt also a model for later stage performers, most notably, Jean Arthur (in 1950 with Boris Karloff as Captain Hook and music by Leonard Bernstein), Mary Martin (in 1954 and is probably the best known musical adaptation), Sandy Duncan (1979), and Cathy Rigby (throughout the 1990s).  In one minute she’s leaping about the room, crowing with confidence and serene smugness, and in the next, she’s soaring gracefully from wall to wall joyfully teaching the children to fly.

Director Herbert Brenon and cinematographer James Wong Howe, both of whom would team up again for one of Lon Chaney’s greatest performances in the film, “Laugh, Clown, Laugh,” insert numerous magical effects, including Tinker Bell’s flickering flights around the children’s darkened bedroom, and later, the fairy in miniature, holding on for dear life to the huge handle of a cabinet drawer as her skimpy raiment blows fiercely about her.  Rather peculiar is the Americanization of the lost boys, who upon routing the pirates, sing “My country ‘tis of thee” and take down the Jolly Roger, raising in its stead the Stars and Stripes.  This seems bizzare given Barrie’s Scottish heritage and the manifestly London location--Bloomsbury, according to Barrie’s notes in the stage play.  Perhaps, this is an alternate version made specifically for U.S markets.

As with “The Little Princess,” I was fortunate to attend a screening of “Peter Pan” with harp accompaniment and a lovely, original score by Leslie McMichael.  A well-written, well-executed, live musical performances really enhances a silent film, and McMichael's paean to Peter Pan is  proof positive that this is so.