Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Peter Pan: The Last Adventure

Here are the photos from day two of the Peter Pan photo shoot.  I was going to keep them until day two of the webisode was ready, but I'm not sure when that will be and I don't feel like it's fair to keep you guys waiting anymore. Because there are a TON of shots.

I'd also like send a massive shout out to you guys.  The followers and fans of Reconstructing Grimm.  You're comments seriously are so cool.  It makes me feel like this whole project means something to people.  And I love the fact that I can share the things I love with all of you lovely folks.  So keep your opinions coming!  I love to hear what you think, and I love even more that you care enough to share it with me.  You all rock my socks.



Then Peter knew that there was not a moment to lose. "Come," he cried imperiously, and soared out at once into the night, followed by John and Michael and Wendy.

Tinkerbell's voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said. Then he made it out. She was saying that she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies.


It was as if Peter's terrible oath had boarded the ship. Hook felt a gloomy desire to make his dying speech, lest presently there should be no time for it. "Better for Hook," he cried, "if he had had less ambition!" It was in his darkest hours only that he referred to himself in the third person.
"No little children to love me!"
Hook was not his true name. To reveal who he really was would even at this date set the country in a blaze; but as those who read between the lines must already have guessed, he had been at a famous public school; and its traditions still clung to him like garments, with which indeed they are largely concerned. Thus it was offensive to him even now to board a ship in the same dress in which he grappled [attacked] her, and he still adhered in his walk to the school's distinguished slouch. But above all he retained the passion for good form.


This had got on Hook's nerves; it made his iron claw twitch, and at night it disturbed him like an insect. While Peter lived, the tortured man felt that he was a lion in a cage into which a sparrow had come. 
"So, my beauty," said Hook, as if he spoke in syrup, "you are to see your children walk the plank."

"Are they to die?" asked Wendy, with a look of such frightful contempt that he nearly fainted.
"They are," he snarled. "Silence all," he called gloatingly, "for a mother's last words to her children." At this moment Wendy was grand. "These are my last words, dear boys," she said firmly. "I feel that I have a message to you from your real mothers, and it is this: `We hope our sons will die like English gentlemen.'"
She had not long to wait. In the cabin he had found the thing for which he had gone in search: the key the would free the children of their manacles, and now they all stole forth, armed with such weapons as they could find. First signing them to hide, Peter cut Wendy's bonds, and then nothing could have been easier than for them all to fly off together

...One thing barred the way, an oath, "Hook or me this time." So when he had freed Wendy, he whispered for her to conceal herself with the others, and himself took her place by the mast, her cloak around him so that he should pass for her. Then he took a great breath and crowed.



Seeing Peter slowly advancing upon him through the air with dagger poised, he sprang upon the bulwarks to cast himself into the sea. He did not know that the crocodile was waiting for him; for we purposely stopped the clock that this knowledge might be spared him: a little mark of respect from us at the end.
He had one last triumph, which I think we need not grudge him. As he stood on the bulwark looking over his shoulder at Peter gliding through the air, he invited him with a gesture to use his foot. It made Peter kick instead of stab.
At last Hook had got the boon for which he craved.
"Bad form," he cried jeeringly, and went content to the crocodile.
Thus perished James Hook.

...  As for Peter, he saw Wendy once again before he flew away. He did not exactly come to the window, but he brushed against it in passing so that she could open it if she liked and call to him. That is what she did....
                         ..."You won't forget me, Peter, will you, before spring cleaning time comes?"...


..."I am old, Peter. I am ever so much more than twenty. I grew up long ago."
"You promised not to!"
"I couldn't help it. I am a married woman, Peter."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, and the little girl in the bed is my baby."
"No, she's not."
But he supposed she was; and he took a step towards the sleeping child with his dagger upraised. Of course he did not strike. He sat down on the floor instead and sobbed; and Wendy did not know how to comfort him, though she could have done it so easily once. She was only a woman now, and she ran out of the room to try to think.
Peter continued to cry, and soon his sobs woke Jane. She sat up in bed, and was interested at once.
"Boy," she said, "why are you crying?" ...


Hope you all have enjoyed this series.  Like I said episode two will most likely be up by the end of the week.  Thanks again!



5 comments:

  1. You could still post the pictures again when the video is done. LOVE IT!

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  2. Lovely. My favorite is the first one of Wendy and Peter flying...magical. Now I think I should actually go out and read the book. :)

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  3. These are fabulous! I love the one with Peter and his shadow!!!!

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  4. Thanks Tif! The cool thing about that shot is that there is no photoshop. I'm standing about 4 feet off camera with a work light crouched to get the right angle. I think it turned out great.

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  5. No way!! It turned out brilliant!!!

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