One has never read Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island and thought, “Perhaps Jim Hawkins’ arc would’ve been more enticing if his widowed mom was on Captain Smollett’s ship with him.” Nor thought a story involving Skeleton Island would’ve been better if it adhered to late-18th-century historical accuracy, or wanted the adventurous soulfulness replaced by an overly gritty tone that obnoxiously proclaims, “This isn’t your grandad’s Treasure Island,” stretched to a six-hour adaptation. Yet the MGM+ series does all of the above, creating an adaptation that, for all its ambition, never fully finds its own reason for being.

There is a lesson here about the power of your story: when you take over someone else’s story, you must first understand what story it is telling. You can add new characters, new questions, and new layers—but you must not lose sight of the hero at the center.

Everyone and their mother knows Treasure Island, but the “reinvention” from showrunner Robert Murphy throws widow Bess Hawkins (Hayley Atwell) into the forefront. In their run-down inn, she and her son Jim (Tom Sweet) exploit his superhuman photographic memory for profit, bidding patrons to go up against him and recite Bible scriptures verbatim in 10 seconds. French pirate Billy Bones (Tomer Capone, not dropping his The Boys French accent) washes up at their front door with Captain Flint’s map, and while Bess rehabilitates him, they share a heated romantic moment.

Peg-legged, parrot-wielding Jamaican pirate Long John Silver (David Oyelowo, in a thick accent) shows up in Cornwall himself. The three characters meet, and he kills Bones while searching for the treasure to avoid British custody.

With Flint’s map memorized in Jim’s noggin, Bess and Jim leave the inn and board Captain Smollett’s ship (Tristan Sturrock) bound for Bristol. The mother-son duo finds Silver back on the crew, both keeping the secret to themselves. However, a new adversary (and, for Bess, a new love interest) emerges in the dashing Aaron Graham (Jack Huston), a successful British spy and widower on a mission to locate the map.

As a reimagining, Treasure Island makes a bold choice by placing Bess at the center. Atwell plays to her strengths, leaning into her spirited charisma, and her presence opens up an interesting question: what happens when the parent who has sacrificed for a child begins to seek a life of her own?

The show’s first half focuses on Bess starting anew at sea. She engages in swashbuckling action as she duels Spanish pirates and finds new romance at sea. Yet, in doing so, the original story of Treasure Island is sometimes pushed to the back seat.

While Bess is getting her groove back, young Hawkins is at times relegated to being a supporting character. He risks becoming little more than a MacGuffin—the boy who carries the map—rather than the young hero whose transformation gives the adventure its meaning. For such a short miniseries, the sense of seafaring adventure barely leaves harbor. Even the handful of action sequences, pushed to their grittiest lengths, can feel more heavy than exhilarating, with CG blood spurts that do not always serve the story’s sense of wonder.

But don’t get me wrong: a bait-and-switch midpoint turn finally lets Jim breathe, and, in lieu of that, Treasure Island finally feels more honest to its source and increasingly engaging. It lays the groundwork for Young Hawkins’ gradual ascent to self-actualization and confidence, and Tom Sweet’s portrayal of his transformation is commendable.

Given the focus on the real-world historical ramifications, the complex relationship between him and Silver, Mr. Graham’s discovery of a new life for them, and his liberation through the treasure all carry nuance. Even in her absence, Bess still significantly influences his coming-of-age arc. Jim’s emotional attachment to her shapes his arc, though it also establishes his distrust of both Graham and Silver. The series could give Jim even more room before his ability becomes central—everyone says, “He’s Jim Hawkins; he knows everything”—so that viewers can emotionally invest in his journey from the beginning.

Oyelowo’s performance is what holds the ship together, though. Proving there’s never been a bad Silver portrayal, Oyelowo deploys his formidable charisma and thunderous voice to serve as an intimidating wild card. His expressive Jamaican accent, which occasionally gets laid thick, shows Silver’s depth, particularly in his relationship and charming chemistry with Sweet’s Hawkins.

The miniseries draws on real historical events from the Jamaican slave trade and the French Revolution, but it paints them in broad strokes, more as window dressing than as investigation. There is a real opportunity here: if you make Long John Silver a Black man, give his pursuit of freedom the same narrative weight given to the white characters’ privilege. Silver is the granddaddy of pirates who pillage and steal for the love of the game, and that is why he is so fun. His story could become even richer if his freedom, his cunning, and his moral contradictions were explored with the same care as the treasure map itself.

Unlike Muppet Treasure Island, Treasure Planet, or Black Sails, MGM’s Treasure Island does not always find the balance between innovation and respect for the beloved source. By stretching the classic story across six hours and focusing on new details—sometimes minimizing essential characters and adding contrivances—it does not always keep even the most devoted fans sailing along. At times, it misses the X that marks the spot.

The Quest, the Hero, and the Enigma

Treasure Island is a clear illustration of one of the seven basic plots: The Quest. Jim Hawkins leaves the safety of the Admiral Benbow inn, crosses the sea, faces pirates, betrayal, temptation, and danger, and searches for a treasure that promises freedom and a new life. The quest is not only about gold; it is about who Jim becomes through the journey.

The central archetype is the Hero—or, more precisely, the young Hero on the threshold of adulthood. At the start, Jim is a boy working in his mother’s inn, defined by other people’s expectations and by his extraordinary memory. Through the quest, he must learn to trust his own judgment, distinguish friend from foe, and claim agency in a world ruled by Silver, Smollett, Graham, and the lure of treasure.

The dramatic situation at the heart of the story is The Enigma: a secret that must be decoded before the destination can be reached. Captain Flint’s map, memorized in Jim’s mind, is more than a plot device. It represents the hidden knowledge that sets the journey in motion. Everyone wants it; only Jim truly carries it; and understanding what to do with it becomes his test.

In the language of The Power of Your Story, this is the movement many of us recognize: you begin with a question you cannot yet answer, you leave familiar ground, you meet allies and antagonists, and you discover that the real treasure is not simply what you find at the end—but the stronger, clearer version of yourself who completes the search.

The story you tell yourself about yourself—and then tell others—must have a center. Jim Hawkins’ story is the center of Treasure Island: a boy who leaves the safety of the known shore, faces temptation, danger, and moral ambiguity, and returns changed. Innovation can renew a story, but only when it deepens the hero’s journey rather than replacing it.

Find the X That Marks Your Spot

If you feel that your own story has lost its center—if you are playing a supporting role in a life that should be yours—it may be time to rediscover the story you tell yourself about yourself, and then tell others.

You can read more about my story coaching at www.thepowerofyourstory2016.com or contact me at peterdekuster2023@gmail.com.