This shockingly awkward and careless production of a classic left me and my family (those who hadn't fled the room after Walken's Hookzombie appeared) numb with disbelief. How could a major studio disgorge so amateurish and unattractive a musical stew? No we weren't expecting performances like those of Mary Martin and Cyril Ritchard from the golden age. We didn't demand that, but we did look forward to some higher grade fun than this dreck. Williams tries hard to lend a bit of charm to Peter and succeeds to some degree, but she's swimming against an ugly tide created by the director and production managers. Walken, with (almost literally) one eye on the teleprompter and the other on the studio clock (When can I get out of this nightmare and go strangle my agent?), delivers what has to be one of his strangest performances, mincing around among his equally directionless crew like a geezerly Jack Sparrow. The pacing is nonexistent. The colors and costumes frightening. The Neverland boys are aging chorusliners, and the "Redskins" are ...let's see...what exactly are they supposed to be?
