Finding Neverland Page #2

And I'm in prison for it.

- I'm so sorry. Are my boys bothering you ?

- We're not bothering him, Mum.

Michael, darling,

come out from under there.

I can't. I'm in prison.

Oh, I see.

JM Barrie. Pleased to meet you.

JM Barrie, the author ? A pleasure.

Sylvia Llewelyn Davies.

- Are you a writer ?

- I am.

He's a playwright, Jack.

Quite a famous one, at that.

- I apologize. I imagine you're writing.

- No. Not at all.

- Where's Peter ?

- What have you written, Mr Barrie ?

Well, currently, I make my living

entertaining princes and their courts

with my trained bear, Porthos.

If you command your brother,

Peter, to join us,

I am willing, Prince George,

to give you just such a performance

in exchange for the freedom

of this prisoner, of course.

- Very well.

- Very well.

Now...

I want you to pay particular attention

to the teeth.

Some unscrupulous trainers will show you

a bear whose teeth have all been pulled,

while other cowards

will force the brute into a muzzle.

Only the true master would attempt these

tricks without either measure of safety.

- What did you bring me over here for ?

- Peter.

This is absurd. It's just a dog.

Come on, darling.

"Just a dog" ? "Just" ?

Porthos, don't listen to him.

Porthos dreams of being a bear

and you want to dash those dreams

by saying he's "just a dog" ?

What a horrible, candle-snuffing word.

That's like saying, "He can't climb

that mountain, he's just a man."

Or, "That's not a diamond, it's just a rock."

"Just."

Fine then. Turn him into a bear. If you can.

Peter, where are your manners ?

With those eyes, my bonny lad,

I'm afraid you'd never see it.

However, with just a wee bit of imagination,

I can turn around right now and see...

the great bear, Porthos.

Dance with me.

Thank you. I don't think I've ever seen

a performance quite like it.

We're here every day, and the bear

is always more than happy to perform.

Well, perhaps we'll see you here

tomorrow then.

Perhaps.

- Peter, jump up please, darling. Quick.

- Bye.

Bye.

- Peter, didn't you enjoy that ?

- I've seen better.

Well, Michael wanted the bear

kept prisoner with him,

and Peter insisted

that Michael was hardly a prisoner

and Porthos simply wasn't a bear at all.

I do very much hope to see them tomorrow.

- What's her name ?

- Sylvia. Um...

Mrs... something Davies.

Llewelyn Davies ?

- You know her ?

- I know who she is, of course.

Why, she's a du Maurier,

for heaven's sake.

Her father was the artist.

Her brother's the actor.

And there was something... tragic

that happened with her husband.

Oh, yes. He died.

Cancer of the jaw, I believe.

That's horrible.

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