The story of pre-teen warrior Atreyus quest to find a cure for The Childlike Empress, dying of a malady similar to that ravaging the world of Fantasia, while in the real world shy, introverted bookworm Bastian bunks off school to read about his Fantasian counterparts adventures, The Neverending Story is a metatextual fairytale about the power of storytelling and the imagination. On paper, the film shouldnt have had the longevity that it did. Adapted by the director of the arse-destroyingly long WWII submarine drama Das Boot from a German fantasy novel of the same name (but with an American cast), this should have been a horrible Euro-turkey of a movie. Yet, despite being disowned by Michael Ende, the author of the novel (the creator of the world and the characters that the film portrayed called it plush and plastic), The Neverending Story is a towering achievement: a fantasy adventure that still feels completely fresh over three decades after its cinematic release, and hasnt dated a jot in all that time. Childrens film and television has tried for decades to recapture some of the magic of the film, and failed. For some reason the eighties fostered this kind of leap of faith far more readily than any other decade before or since: the Neverending Story (ah-ah-ahhh, ah-ah-ahhh, ah-ah-ahhh) is brimming with sheer, unadulterated inventiveness from title card to credits. Endes snarkiness notwithstanding, this is captivating, heart-on-sleeve world-building rarely attempted in childrens cinema.
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.