Once upon a time there was a little boy called Steven Spielberg who refused to grow up. One day he found himself in charge of the biggest train set in Never Never Land, and so he made some jolly exciting movies about friendly aliens, man-eating sharks, and an archaeologist who zoomed around the world thrashing Nazis. And a beezer time was had by all.

But there were clouds in the blue of Steven's sky. He was a wizard at appealing to everyone's sense of childlike wonder. He had brought pleasure by the bucketful to millions of people. But he had always failed to impress the grown-ups in Never Never Land: the ones who handed out the end-of-term prizes, and the folk who decided which movies were important and meaningful, as opposed to escapist fun for all the family.

So he had a go at making some grown-up movies, such as The Color Purple and Always—films dealing with heavy subjects such as relationships, conflict and bereavement. But Steven had a b-i-g problem, because he had spent his whole life in Never Never, a land not best known for its grasp of real life, and his idea of what went on in the world outside was limited to the hazy notions he had picked up … from the movies.

And so, whenever one of Steven's movies touched upon an adult theme, he was unable to link it directly to his own experience, because he hadn't any. Everything came out a little bit corny. He had drained all the childlike wonder from his grown-up movies, but the grown-ups were still sitting with folded arms and stony faces, unimpressed.

“Hey ho”, Steven thought. “What was the point of trying?” But he still had the run of the train set, so he decided to return to the jolly exciting stuff about pirates and fairies, all rolled into a rollicking family film called Hook. Alas, no sooner had he started than he realised it was no longer what he wanted. Times had changed; there was a worldwide recession on, and in the meantime Steven had got married, become a father, and got divorced. Maybe he had grown up without ever realising it.

But it was too late. The train set was already chuffing out of the station, so Steven decided to take everyone along for a ride. The story was about Peter Pan, another little boy who refused to grow up, except that in Steven's film, by some inimitable twist of illogic, he has grown up. And he has forgotten all about the Lost Boys and how to fly, until his own children are kidnapped by his old adversary Captain Hook. Tinkerbell helps Peter get to Never Never Land so he can rescue them.

Steven decided that if he couldn't come up with a definitive artistic statement to impress the grown-ups, then at least he could impress them with the definitive bank statement. At the same time, he could make lots of pocket-money for himself and his best friends Robin (Williams) and Julia (Roberts) and Dustin (Hoffmann).

Robin was Peter, and Julia was ickle-bitty Tinkerbell, with pointy ears and a pixie tunic, and Dustin was Hook, with a curly moustache and a cod English accent. Dustin won. His was the only character in the film you didn't want to see garrotted.

The designers designed a terrific pirate galleon and a thrilling Lost Boys' hideout. But, no matter how much Steven made his camera swoop and glide and giddy-up around the sets, he couldn't stop them from looking like boring old panto scenery, especially since the galleon never put out to sea (which would have been too mega-expensive), and the Lost Boys' camp was crammed full of Starlight Express-style skate-boarding tracks.

As for the Lost Boys, they were cast from a politically correct mix of ethnic groups and blimp shapes, and zipped around in funky MTV gear and Mohican hair-dos, spouting street jargon. Poor old Steven: he wasn't to know that, while he had been busy trying to make grown-up movies, the trendiest kids had gone off Michael Jackson and the Ninja Turtles and transferred their allegiance to metal-headed dipsticks such as Bill and Ted, or Wayne and Garth from Wayne's World, the year's hotsiest hit-flick (which comes down your way in May).

But he drew the line at including gurls, because gurls were less than zero—J. M. Barrie had the right idea there. Wendy (played by Maggie Smith plus wrinkly make-up) has to stay in the Wendy house, while grown-up Peter forgets all about his kidnapped daughter, and concentrates instead on the more important business of bonding with his kidnapped son.

Steven threw in lots of baseball, and tinkle-plunk John Williams soundtrack, and finished it off with one enormous Big Hug. And, just in case anyone wanted a Regarding Henry message, he threw in one of those as well: don't be a workaholic yuppie asshole, don't lose sight of the child inside you, and don't miss any of your son's Little League matches. Barf-o-rama!: bring back Jack Torrance from The Shining.

But, in the end, Steven didn't mind at all when discerning folk puked up all over the loathsome Lost Boys and complained of dangerous levels of heartwarming brought on by an excess of Robin Williams. So what if Hook was a cynical money-spinning exercise full of lacklustre action and meretricious sentiment-by-numbers? Just because it was all those things, Steven knew it was also proof that, after all these years, he was really and truly one of the grown-ups.