FairyTale: A True Story

Synopsis: Based on factual accounts, this is the story of two young girls that, somehow, have the ability to take pictures of winged beings... which certainly causes quite a stir throughout England during the time of the first World War. Everyone, except the girls who think it's quite normal, are excited about this "photographic proof" that fairies exist... even the great Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Harry Houdini pay the girls a visit.
Genre: Drama, Family, Fantasy
Director(s): Charles Sturridge
Production: Paramount Pictures
  1 win & 3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.5
Rotten Tomatoes:
52%
PG
Year:
1997
99 min
39 Views

Ready, Harry?

Sir, so glad you

were able to make it.

Mr. Houdini will be delighted.

He was hoping, you'd come.

Just around here, sir.

40 seconds.

Who's that?

The redskins are defeated...

and the boys are captured

by the pirates.

I'll rescue them.

Oh, that's just my medicine.

Poisoned?

Who could've poisoned it?

Tink... dear tink.

Are you dying?

Her light is fading, and if it

goes out, it means she is dead.

She says she thinks

she could get well again...

if children believed in fairies.

Do you believe in fairies?

Yeah!

- Say, if you do believe!!

Yes! Yes!

If you believe in fairies

clap your hands!

Elsie!

Elsie!

Stand by for the curtain.

- Now... to rescue Wendy!

You're not allowed down by the beck.

How many times have I told you?

Go wait in your room

fill your father gets back.

Incredible! If I hadn't

seen it with my own eyes,

I wouldn't have believed it.

- You believe everything you see?

Boys...

darling Jean,

a penny for your thoughts.

It was up your sleeve.

- Up my sleeve?

Ladies, gentlemen, be warned.

Never try to fool children.

They expect nothing,

and Therefore see everything.

At your service, your Highness.

Cake?

And for you...

And for you.

Wait your turn, Mr. Bandylegs.

And for you, your Highness. I'm sorry.

I do apologize for his bad behavior.

I smell the blood of an Englishman.

Be he alive...

or be he dead...

I'll grind his bones...

to make my bread.

Hello.

- Hello.

That dress looks pretty.

Mum says we're not allowed

to wear colors.

Mm, this needs a little work,

don't you think?

Maybe your cousin Frances

will give you hand.

Would you come with me to Bradford

and pick her up from the station?

She must be terrified. Traveling all

the way from Africa by herself.

Aye Corp,

your girlfriend's here.

All right,

keep it down back there.

Sir...

would you like

to help me with my game?

Why not.

On your holidays, eh?

- I'm going to visit my cousin.

Put your finger in here.

Got you!

My daddy's a soldier like you.

He's in France, and his name is Sergeant

Major Griffiths. Perhaps you've met him.

Back down.

I freed you.

- Thank you.

Except you couldn't now.

He's missing, you see.

He's going to bring me back

some real French perfume from France.

Look...

butterfly.

That way?

- Yes.

Frances!

Elsie!

Come on, the pair of you.

Let's be getting out of here.

All right, you two.

Show her in, Elsie.

- Come.

Mum, we're back!

On the boat from Africa,

the captain made me watch out for pirates.

They don't have pirates anymore.

- Do so.

Everybody had to watch out for them.

- I expect she's right.

Only nowadays they live on battleships

and salute the kaiser.

You're a lucky girl, Frances Griffiths.

- That's what my daddy says.

Come on!

Let's get you dry and into bed.

There are no pirates here

to frighten yourself with.

Which room?

- Top of the stairs.

No, Frances.

Whose room is this?

- Joseph's. Come on.

I thought he died.

- He did. Come on.

What's this?

- A crown.

But it's all mode out of keys.

Joseph gave it to me.

- It's beautiful.

How did he die?

Pneumonia.

We both had it.

Then why didn't you die?

- I don't know.

I'm glad you didn't.

Why does he have a room

of his own if he's dead?

Do you think he's going to come back?

- No.

Mother didn't wont anything to be moved.

So me dad built me this room up here.

He must be very clever.

- He knows about everything.

Don't touch it!

What is it?

- A doll's house.

Did your dad make it, too?

- No. Me and Joseph.

Mostly Joseph.

- Well, who lives in it?

Nobody.

Where are we going?

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