Finding Neverland

I went to see "Finding Neverland" this evening, and it lived up to my hopes of being a magical, poignant film. The costumes, the pastoral views of England, the beauty of it all, were breath-taking.

To engage in a bit of Hollywood hyperbole, "If you only see one movie this holiday season, see 'Finding Neverland.'"

I am a movie lover, and I take my films seriously. This one was one of those rare gems that is truly magical, that nurtures one's imagination, and, of course, made me cry.

Before going to the movie, someone warned me to take lots of tissues. This warning was sort of superfluous for me, seeing as I cried through much of "13 Going on 30," which is a comedy aimed at pre-pubescent girls. I cry a lot at movies, which is why I tend to go alone to the ones I want to see most. I call it cinema therapy, a term that someone wisely put to use in a published book and television series. As most women can understand, there's nothing like a good cry.

I actually cried less in this movie than I might have expected. There is as much happiness as sadness in the film, and even in the sadness, there is comfort and hope. One of the undercurrents of the film is the idea that children should be allowed to be children, with lives rich with imagination and mirth, and that as adults, we should hold onto this sense of childlike wonder and possibility -- a message that is particularly close to my heart.

Like I said, see it, you won't regret it.