Review of Hook (1991) by Cailin T — 13 Nov 2011

Hook was one of my favorite movies as a child. I remember sitting through countless viewings, always falling asleep somewhere in the middle, but waking up just in time to watch the great big battle between Pirates and Lost Boys. I loved all the silly âweaponsâ? that the boys built, giggling maniacally when the pirates got pelted with the eggs. As a child, it was nothing more than an exciting action adventure movie that brought me joy over and over again, a new tale of Peter Pan that was slightly more unfamiliar to me.

Watching Hook again as an adult is a completely different experience. The movie is so rich with symbolism and meaning and depth, depth that I couldnâ(TM)t understand as a child, depth that I wasnâ(TM)t able to reach quiet yet. This film seems so unbelievably different to me, reaches me on a completely different level than it did when I was a child, that itâ(TM)s like I witnessed two different movies. This is the same movie that made me laugh and cheer as Peter was finally able to fly, that made me beam unabashedly as brightly colored piles of play-dough food were pelted across a dinner table? There is so much there, hidden beneath the surface, hidden away too far for a childâ(TM)s eyes to be able to find, but as an adult itâ(TM)s there in plain sight, waiting to be uncovered and discovered and experienced.

This movie, quiet obviously, is about one manâ(TM)s discovery to connect with his family, to love them completely, and to be able to devote his time to them. Itâ(TM)s about being present for those few precious childhood years where children adore their parents and look up to them and want them around. Itâ(TM)s also about self-identity, about finding oneself in the haphazardness of life and connecting to oneâ(TM)s roots. More than that, though, itâ(TM)s about not letting go of the inner child within all of us, not letting go of the make-believe world that we all dwelled in as children.

As a child, I didnâ(TM)t notice so much of this film, so much amazing richness and detail and intricate choices that give the movie a very distinct feel. I didnâ(TM)t notice the superbly crafted sets, that somehow find the perfect balance between purposeful artificiality and realism. The sets look like sets, and itâ(TM)s brilliant. They look like someone imagined them, crafted them, built them. They look just real enough to be believable, but just fake enough to remind us that weâ(TM)re in someoneâ(TM)s imagination, within someoneâ(TM)s fantasy. There are a few brilliant shots littered throughout the film where we can actually see the walls, the end of the set, but these moments are brief and sweeping, giving us just a quick glance, thereby keeping us suspended somewhere between the real and the imagined.

I wasnâ(TM)t able to pick up on the art direction either, and failed to notice how visually stunning this film really is. Every shot has a look and style and feeling from the bright neon colors of the Lost Boysâ(TM) imagination meal, to Jackâ(TM)s reflections as he breaks the clocks in Hookâ(TM)s study, to the gorgeous scratch from the hook that pans throughout the whole house when Peterâ(TM)s kids get kidnapped, to the over-saturated colors of the sunset.

Iâ(TM)ve always been slightly in love with the score of this film, even as a child. I can remember hearing those familiar notes of Williamsâ(TM) âFlight to Neverland,â? and even then it filled me up with happiness and hope and triumph. Now, though, Williamsâ(TM) perfect score to this film is one of his finest, second only behind Jurassic Park in my book. The music is so exciting and beautiful and perfectly executed in every scene, creating a mood and a moment. It sounds like childhood wonder and adventure and enlightened imagination. It sounds like hope and belief and playfulness. It sounds like love and understanding.

Finally the casting; oh the casting. Each role in this film was carefully crafted, and many of the actors who portray them do so with such seamlessness, that youâ(TM)re left wondering if the part was written specifically for them. Maggie Smithâ(TM)s utter elegance as grown-up Wendy perfectly encapsulates the beautiful sophistication and polished poise of the Wendy we are so familiar with. Then thereâ(TM)s Captain Hook, portrayed brilliantly by Dustin Hoffman. Sorry Jack Sparrow, but Hoffman as Hook might just be the best pirate of all-time. Heâ(TM)s dark and slightly manic and spectacularly wicked with pirate-ness oozing out of every pore. Heâ(TM)s slick and slimy and just brilliant to watch. I can see why this movie is called Hook, after all. Hoffman steals the show just slightly.

But then thereâ(TM)s Peter, in all his intricate detail. What a beautifully written character. His arc is crafted so vividly, that you can actually see the changes he goes through, changing every part of him from his voice and his attitude to his hairstyle and even his body weight. He doesnâ(TM)t just go through a mental process of enlightenment, but a physical one as well, as he encompasses all that is Peter Pan. I donâ(TM)t think anyone could have been more fitting to this role than Robin Williams, or more able to perfectly portray the up-tight business man that was Peter Banning, as well as the effervescent Peter Pan.

Perfectly blending childhood fantasy with adult themes, Hook hits me on so many different levels. Each viewing is unique, specific, and original. It says different things to me at different moments. Sometimes I marvel at the craftsmanship of the film, wanting to spend hours watching the Neverland sunset or count each plank of wood on the piratesâ(TM) dock. Other times I want to crawl into Peter Banningâ(TM)s headspace and look at his identity crisis unfold. Sometimes Iâ(TM)m just a kid again, laughing as the Lost Boys pelt the pirates with tomatoes. And sometimes... sometime I just want to watch Peter fly.