The NeverEnding StoryThe great thing about dreams is that they spring eternal, that they possess infinite power--the ability to transport us to new worlds, endow us with qualities denied to us in our waking life, and explore the endless realms of our imagination; books are an extension of that ley line of the soul. From the beginning of The NeverEnding Story, Bastian (Barret Oliver) tells his stoic father (Gerald McRaney) he dreamed about his mother, who had recently passed away. His dreams are of rolling clouds, of vast expanses. He dreams of Fantasia--a mythical world of incalculable wonders--even if he doesn't realize what it is yet that lurks within his heart.
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Although Bastian would be the most obvious "main character" of The NeverEnding Story--he may be the most identifiable for the intended audience--we spend a surprisingly small amount of time with him by comparison. Instead, the film pulls us into the story within the story--the book which Bastian "borrows" from a surly bookstore shopkeep (Thomas Hill), who shares more in common with a wizard than a simple clerk--and into the adventures of Atreyu (Noah Hathaway), a child warrior who "hunts the buffalo on the Purple Plains". Atreyu's story follows a specific tune--in the key of young adult fantasy adventure--with a pacing which is uniquely in sync with Bastian's heart, as his journey--and the accompanying perils and pitfalls, the excitement and thrills--speak to Bastian. Some books have a way of talking to the readers; The NeverEnding Story does more than simply talk to Bastian, it listens. Consider the extensive weight on Bastian's shoulders from the start: he is suffering with the grief of his deceased mother, while his father remains unable to sympathize with his son's sorrow. Bastian is harangued by bullies on his way to school; even when he goes to school, he finds no fascination in subjects which do not appeal to his rich imagination. It is difficult to recognize when a child is suffering from emotional anguish, because they are often conditioned to repress their emotions--as adults come to do--and find it impossible to express themselves otherwise...they are still growing up. The book he reads manifests his feelings, without discounting his sorrow, without belittling his personality, something adults find may do without intent. Take the heart-rending scene with Atreyu's horse, Artax in the Swamps of Sadness--it is a scene which blindsides the audience with its desperation and sorrow, and is even confusing and leaves you struggling to get your own emotional footing; but that is what it feels like to a child to lose someone close to you. The NeverEnding Story excels here because so many movies for children are patronizing and do not genuinely address the feelings which children are discovering--both happiness and sadness. Too many categorize "happy" as "good", "sad" as "bad", and deprive children the necessary coping skills of accepting that grief is not wrong.
Bastian's adventures into the other world of Fantasia are exciting, with a variety of rich locales and a diverse assembly of unique characters and creatures. The prologue to the story is of a few characters who might be stars of their own fables elsewhere--the colossal Rockbiter (Alan Oppenheimer), the racing snail and his jockey (Deep Roy), and the goblin-like bat-rider, the Night Hob (Tilo Prückner), who fill us in through their campfire chat that the land of Fantasia is falling apart, due to the rapid encroachment of a force of annihilation called "The Nothing". As they, and many like them, journey to the Ivory Tower to seek the counsel of The Childlike Empress (Tami Stronach), the senechal (Moses Gunn) informs them all that the empress is deathly ill, her condition linked to the devastation wrought by The Nothing, who also indicates that their only hope lies with Atreyu. Here--as in other moments in The NeverEnding Story--Bastian breaks from the immersive tale. He looks to his backpack, and sees a Native American hunting a buffalo upon hearing Atreyu's name, and Atreyu resembles that native warrior, but also is a child like Bastian. This is the first moment we know that there is something special about the book; Bastian's impressions of what the warrior should be affected the story. The book poses a philosophical question about whether the book is influencing the reader, or the other way around; in all likelihood, it is a little of both, a mutually beneficial relationship. The story grows from the infinite wellspring of the reader's imagination, and focuses the reader's attention to transform those unrealized needs into a tale suited to the reader. What would it be like for someone else reading the story? But that may be part of the problem, because The Nothing is the absence of imagination in the dreams of mankind, the manifestation of a world which has lost its love of dreaming, of a world of fantasy, of hope--too obsessed with "keeping its feet on the ground". As the evil G'mork (also Alan Oppenheimer) remarks, people who have no hope are people who are easy to control; thus, he claims to aid The Nothing in its destruction of the world which has no boundaries. But Atreyu's journey across the ever-dissolving realm is aided by a beneficent luck dragon named Falkor (again Alan Oppenheimer), a charmingly optimistic and faithful companion (who always looked more like a flying cocker spaniel than a dragon to me, but I digress). Their alliance helps Atreyu learn what it is which will save the empress, and thus, Fantasia: the aid of a human child. As the barriers of Fantasia begin to crumble, so too does the fourth wall. Bastian recognizes that he is the key to the story's salvation, as the empress exposes the truth to him, and even indicates that he is also in a story observed by others. This reflection of a reflection ties not only Bastian to the world of Fantasia, but the audience of The NeverEnding Story as well, making their journey our journey, their feelings ours. Who didn't feel the rush of excitement when Atreyu flew through the skies on Falkor's back, the despair at Artax's passing, and the tension of the encounter with the evil G'mork? It may not be that the story is dangerous, but it does leave a part of it with us, something we carry on and on.
Recommended for: Fans of a remarkably unique movie of fantasy and legitimate emotion, which should resonate for children and adults. The combination of a clever presentation of the plot, Giorgio Moroder's unmistakable score, and the sophisticated puppetry and special effects reminiscent of Jim Henson make for an iconic childhood experience; it positively oozes nostalgia for those lucky few who grew up on it.
Bastian's adventures into the other world of Fantasia are exciting, with a variety of rich locales and a diverse assembly of unique characters and creatures. The prologue to the story is of a few characters who might be stars of their own fables elsewhere--the colossal Rockbiter (Alan Oppenheimer), the racing snail and his jockey (Deep Roy), and the goblin-like bat-rider, the Night Hob (Tilo Prückner), who fill us in through their campfire chat that the land of Fantasia is falling apart, due to the rapid encroachment of a force of annihilation called "The Nothing". As they, and many like them, journey to the Ivory Tower to seek the counsel of The Childlike Empress (Tami Stronach), the senechal (Moses Gunn) informs them all that the empress is deathly ill, her condition linked to the devastation wrought by The Nothing, who also indicates that their only hope lies with Atreyu. Here--as in other moments in The NeverEnding Story--Bastian breaks from the immersive tale. He looks to his backpack, and sees a Native American hunting a buffalo upon hearing Atreyu's name, and Atreyu resembles that native warrior, but also is a child like Bastian. This is the first moment we know that there is something special about the book; Bastian's impressions of what the warrior should be affected the story. The book poses a philosophical question about whether the book is influencing the reader, or the other way around; in all likelihood, it is a little of both, a mutually beneficial relationship. The story grows from the infinite wellspring of the reader's imagination, and focuses the reader's attention to transform those unrealized needs into a tale suited to the reader. What would it be like for someone else reading the story? But that may be part of the problem, because The Nothing is the absence of imagination in the dreams of mankind, the manifestation of a world which has lost its love of dreaming, of a world of fantasy, of hope--too obsessed with "keeping its feet on the ground". As the evil G'mork (also Alan Oppenheimer) remarks, people who have no hope are people who are easy to control; thus, he claims to aid The Nothing in its destruction of the world which has no boundaries. But Atreyu's journey across the ever-dissolving realm is aided by a beneficent luck dragon named Falkor (again Alan Oppenheimer), a charmingly optimistic and faithful companion (who always looked more like a flying cocker spaniel than a dragon to me, but I digress). Their alliance helps Atreyu learn what it is which will save the empress, and thus, Fantasia: the aid of a human child. As the barriers of Fantasia begin to crumble, so too does the fourth wall. Bastian recognizes that he is the key to the story's salvation, as the empress exposes the truth to him, and even indicates that he is also in a story observed by others. This reflection of a reflection ties not only Bastian to the world of Fantasia, but the audience of The NeverEnding Story as well, making their journey our journey, their feelings ours. Who didn't feel the rush of excitement when Atreyu flew through the skies on Falkor's back, the despair at Artax's passing, and the tension of the encounter with the evil G'mork? It may not be that the story is dangerous, but it does leave a part of it with us, something we carry on and on.
Recommended for: Fans of a remarkably unique movie of fantasy and legitimate emotion, which should resonate for children and adults. The combination of a clever presentation of the plot, Giorgio Moroder's unmistakable score, and the sophisticated puppetry and special effects reminiscent of Jim Henson make for an iconic childhood experience; it positively oozes nostalgia for those lucky few who grew up on it.