by Kari Bowles Hook: 90s Nostalgia to the Max It seems a bit odd in retrospect, but I saw Hook, Steven Spielberg’s 1991 semi-sequel to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan, before I saw the 50s Disney film or any other incarnation. It hardly effected my engaged enjoyment. Hook is one of a handful of films occupy an indelible cultural niche for many Millennial viewers such as myself. The film is arguably overstuffed in terms of length, in its optically busy production design (courtesy of Norman Garwood), and in the amount of exposition it seeks to supply. But for many children of the late 80s and early 90s, it is shielded from such criticism because we loved it when we first saw it. The memory of initial exposure to thrilling cinema can be a powerful thing; it’s largely how the cult of the Star Wars series has been maintained. The premise for Hook is that Peter Pan grew up, yet its continued fan base is, funnily enough, rooted in associations from childhood.
The late, great Robin Williams stars as Peter Banning, a corporate raider who has long forgotten his origins in Neverland. 92-year-old Granny Wendy (Maggie Smith) still remembers, and, unfortunately, so does his old nemesis Captain Hook (a virtually unrecognizable, delightfully preening Dustin Hoffman). The pirate renegade kidnaps Peter’s two young children, forcing him to return to Neverland, with the assistance of Tinkerbell (Julia Roberts). Can Peter Banning learn how to fly and fight again? It’s a family oriented Spielberg film, so the answer is never truly in doubt. The destination isn’t the point, it’s the wild journey there. There are heaping doses of escapist delight to be had, particularly in the early sequences on the pirate ship and where Peter meets the Lost Boys again.
The requisite “training montage” was one of my favorite parts as a child (what kid wouldn’t have wanted to try out that gigantic slingshot?), as well as the feast full of imaginary food. The moment when Peter can finally “see” all of the fantastical morsels on display, accompanied by the strains of John Williams’ melodic, stirring musical score, remains a great moment of imaginative awakening. The film has crucial grounding in its supporting players, especially Bob Hoskins as Hook’s first mate Mr. Smee, the young unknowns who appear as the Lost Boys, and Caroline Goodall as Peter’s wife Moira; though absent from a substantial portion of the film, she offers a significant dose of poignant reality to the story. Peter has grown up, and can never be a boy again, even if he can remember how to fly. But even growing up, with its attendant pressures, obligations, and the promise of inevitable mortality, doesn’t have to kill the spirit of youth or adventure that lives inside. In light of Mr. Williams’ own sad fate, Hook seems all the more important as a testament to its star’s youthful vitality and his audience’s appreciation of it. 90s nostalgia is certainly a factor, but so is delight in a great performer. •
