Review: The NeverEnding Story (1984)

The NeverEnding Story (1984)

Rated PG

Score: 4 out of 5

You've probably already figured out why I'm reviewing this film now, of all times. Okay, technically it's because the Film Junkies were screening it at the Savor Cinema in Fort Lauderdale, and because Popcorn Frights' "Wicked Weekend" of Friday the 13th movies earlier this month was cut down from three movies to just Jason Takes Manhattan due to the threat of a hurricane, I wound up getting free tickets to this and a screening of the 1999 version of The Mummy next Friday as compensation. (One of the same guys runs both Popcorn Frights and Film Junkies.) But why were they screening this? Well, like I said, you probably knew why the moment you saw the title and poster, and heard the theme song playing in your head, specifically that version of the song from season three of Stranger Things. Yep, the Duffer brothers gave this movie a huge shout-out in one of that season's most memorable moments, putting yet another iconic piece of '80s pop culture back in the spotlight. I, as a child of the Y2K era, had never seen this movie before and knew it only as a cheesy fantasy film, so when I was offered a free ticket, I remembered Dustin and Suzie's duet and said "oh, what the hell, at the very least it'll be cheesy fun."

I was not expecting the movie I got. It's a fairly clunky film that's very much driven by style and mood over storytelling substance, but at the same time, it's far more than just a special effects showcase. For every effects shot that doesn't hold up, there are ten more, especially from the puppetry department, that look better than most comparable summer blockbusters nowadays. A lot of the acting is hokey, but in a strange way, it actually helps the film build its mystical atmosphere. When it comes to family films with messages about not giving up your dreams, it's hard to top how this one pulls it off. And of course, it's got that iconic theme song composed by Giorgio Moroder. It was easy to see why The NeverEnding Story remains an iconic nostalgia classic for '80s kids, and why director Wolfgang Petersen went on to great success in Hollywood, because this is a film that still holds up even for somebody who has no nostalgic attachment to it.

We start the film not in a fantasy world, but in a normal suburban home, where a boy named Bastian has fallen into a funk. His mother recently died, he's picked on by bullies, and he's started to fall behind in his schoolwork. One day, while running away from a group of bullies, he ducks into a bookstore where he discovers the place's owner reading a book titled The NeverEnding Story, and when the bookstore's owner tells Bastian that the book isn't for him, that just makes him curious, causing him to snatch the book; the bookseller just looks on and smiles. Sneaking into the school's attic to read it, Bastian finds what initially appears to be a standard fantasy adventure about a boy hero named Atreyu who has been tasked with saving the realm of Fantasia from an evil, all-consuming force called the Nothing. The more he reads, however, the more it starts to seem that the book is aware of him and that he himself is a character in it, as various elements of its story reflect facets of his own life.

As just a fantasy movie, the story here is as boilerplate as they come: a hero has been called to save the kingdom, and to do so, he must pass through multiple trials, which challenge him not just physically but spiritually and emotionally. The plot relies heavily on deus ex machina to move forward, most notably with one of its most famous elements, the "luck dragon" Falkor. A big part of what elevates it, however, is the effects work on display. While the green-screen doesn't really hold up in 2019, the practical puppetry most definitely does, looking like something straight out of the Jim Henson house in terms of both its quality and its sense of whimsy. A giant but friendly monster called the Rock Eater exists side by side with a racing snail, a giant bat that serves as a glider, and the hobbit-like men who travel around on them. Falkor looks like a cross between a Chinese-style dragon and a labrador retriever, probably the cutest and most cuddly dragon ever depicted on film. Atreyu meets an elf couple that, through perspective shooting similar to what Peter Jackson used twenty years later on The Lord of the Rings, are made to look tiny next to him. Apparently, this was, at the time, the most expensive film to have been made outside the US or the USSR (it's German, albeit shot in English), and boy does it ever look like it. It's strange knowing that this was the film that Wolfgang Petersen followed up Das Boot with, but if any film could've gotten him on the inside track of '80s Hollywood, it's this. The quality of 90% of the effects work here is still impressive watching it now for the first time, and Petersen shoots it wonderfully, going to great lengths to craft a beautiful fantasy world.

Excellent visuals alone, however, would've left this a pretty but empty film, a showcase for special effects artists and enthusiasts but one with little value to anybody else. As noted, the actual fantasy story is about as cliché as it gets, and a film about that alone would've wound up like so many other campy '80s fantasy flicks. It's when the film peels back the layers, slowly revealing that Bastian's story in the "real world" is far more than just a framing device, that it truly shines. At first, it just feels like thematic resonance; just as Atreyu lost his horse and had to find the will to keep going on, Bastian lost his mother and has struggled to do the same. As the film progresses, however, it becomes clear that, in some way, shape, or form, the book is alive and is reading Bastian as much as he's reading it in turn. Things start happening in the book, parallels between Atreyu and Bastian that can't be chalked up to coincidence, culminating in a moment where Bastian is forced to put the book down once it becomes clear that it knows him all too well. Through this, an eerie atmosphere developed that segued into something else entirely once it became clear that Atreyu wasn't the real hero of the story.

Just as the bookseller warned him, the book did far more than just metaphorically suck Bastian into its world; it literally made him an important character within it, arguably the most important, in fact. Without getting into spoilers (because there are still people who haven't seen this yet, like me before Friday), there is ultimately a strong thematic core at the center of this film, one delivered with a punch to the gut. At the end of the day, even with all of the sad things that happen, this is one of the most explicitly hopeful films to ever come out, one that sees cynicism as a destructive force that leads to nothing but destruction and despair and something that must be overcome if one is to just live a normal life. The story may be arch to the point of cliché, but in a way, that's kind of the point, as the actual story is only secondary to the real meat of the film concerning Bastian's journey, as he learns to accept and grow from his mother's death. This, I think, is the real reason why this film is treated as a classic, why people still remember Atreyu and Falkor and the Childlike Empress and all the rest, far beyond anything to do with the effects work. Yes, it's clunky in parts, with the kid actor playing Bastian in particular being fairly wooden and some of the dialogue feeling inauthentic. But as a mood piece designed to create an atmosphere of childlike wonder and hope? Few fantasy films come close.

The Bottom Line

In some ways, it shows its age, but in others, it's timeless. There's a reason why they had Dustin and Suzie homage this film in particular, and if that scene from Stranger Things accounted for half the turnout at the sold-out screening I attended, then I'm certainly not complaining. This is a film that stands the test of time.