That's Entertainment

A FAVORITE advertising gimmick of television manufacturers is to show T. V. watchers being bombarded by actual items emanating from their T. V. sets. The basketballs, confetti and pails of water spewing from the tube are supposed to demonstrate the lifelike quality of the images.

But what if it were the other way around? What if instead of throwing things at the viewer, the television screen sucked the viewer into itself--not just between the tubes and circuitry, but right into the storyline? Imagine sitting down on a rainy Saturday night in front of The Love Boat and suddenly finding yourself on board, asking Isaac to fix you a frozen margarita.

The Neverending Story investigates just this premise, but instead of limiting its vision to television, it beckons children into the world of literature and imagination. The film adaptation of Michael Ende's novel succeeds as a magical fantasy, leaving young viewers starry-eyed.

But even while raising some important issues, the movie sometimes conveys the wrong messages to the kids it enthralls. Encouraging children to drop the video habit and read more is all to the good, but directing them into purely imaginative and fantasy-oriented avenues could be just as limiting. The film also stumbles when it goes above kids heads in a bid for their parents' attention.

The storyline is simple. A young boy, Bastian, running from the bullies who regularly beat him up and take his lunch money, ducks into a dusty old bookstore for safety. The curmudgeonly owner tells him to get out, to go play video games like all the rest of the kids, but Bastian stands his group, declaring proudly that he owns 186 books. Bastian then asks to see what the old man is reading, but the latter refuses, saying. "It isn't safe." He explains that while a good book gets one involved with the plot, it is, after all, nothing more than a story. This book, called The Neverending Story, is different.

Predictably, Bastian steals the book and sneaks off to read it. Inside he finds the story of Atreyu's quest to save Fantasia from the Nothing, a terrible force that threatens the fictional world from all sides. Bastian gets caught up in the story and soon finds himself mysteriously cropping up in what he reads; at one exciting moment he screams and immediately reads of Atreyu cringing at the sound. Bastian is drawn in more and more, eventually playing a pivotal role at the story's climax.

AS A SUMMER video replacement for kids under 10. The Neverending Story is terrific. Fantasia is inhabited by dozens of strange and wondrous beings created with state-of-the-art special effects. The flying dragon and huge stone eater make the Star Wars aliens look like extras in a latenight Japanese horror movie. Unfortunately, these outstanding visual effects mostly appear in the first 20 minutes. After that, the audience sees a lot of deserted beaches, a crumbling temple and an asteroid belt.

The movie's message, pushing dreaming and mental exploration, is undeniably one children need to be reminded of, but it is so baldly stated as to be almost insulting. You see, Fantasia is the world of limitless human imagination, but it is crumbling to nothingness because people are reluctant to dream and wonder. And as people stop imagining, the Nothing will claim even more territory, in conjunction with the evil forces of those who seize power by stamping out free thought. So kids, stay away from those video games, read a good book or two, and dare to dream--and the nothingness will be vanquished.

NOBLE AS all this is, the message contains a troubling inconsistency. The fantasy world of dragons, child warriors and ancient sages is beautiful and entertaining, but it is not the kind of imagination which will save our world--the real world--from nothingness. It does not encourage, at least not directly, scientific, political and social imagination. In fact, the only scientist in the film--very clearly identified as such--turns out to be weakwilled and cowardly, an observer but certainly not a positive visionary.

The film also contains an interesting paradox. It is heartening to see reading touted as an important, powerful activity after dozens of films like Joysticks and Footloose touting the mindless. But, ironically, Bastian does not read the book curled up at home in front of the fire; he cuts a math test and spends the night in the school's attic reading by candlelight. Sure, reading and imagination are important--but they're not complete and absolute excuses for ignoring everything else.

Finally, while the movie succeeds brilliantly as a children's film, it makes the mistake of occasionally trying to say more. Most of the obstacles facing Atreyu have Phantom Tollbooth-like names such as the Swamp of Sadness--where the muck will suck you in if you can't hold a stiff upper lip and keep the sadness from overcoming you.

Children can deal with that (although they probably like the dark things which lurk in the swamp better), but what can they be expected to make of things like the second gate to the South Sage? The South Sage gate is a mirror which reflects a person's inner self. Although not a physical barrier, it is an effective deterrent because "most men, when confronted with their true inner nature, run away screaming." True, perhaps, but very much over the heads of eight-year-olds and too simplistic for their parents. At such times the movie's audience and message become muddled.

Your little brother or sister couldn't care less about understanding his or her true inner self, so he will love The Neverending Story. But anyone over the age of 12 will have trouble forgetting that it is, after all, only a story.