Mary Poppins Returns

Impractically Perfect In Every Way
or
Wind's in the East, Mist Comin' In/Like Something is Brewin', About to Begin/Can't Put Me Finger On What Lies in Store/But I Feel What's To Happen All Happened Before...

Having experienced Walt Disney's Mary Poppins as a child back when it was released in theaters away away back in 1964 and having it seared into my memory as a favorite—even after an adult re-appraisal had me concluding that P.L.Travers iconic flying nanny was something of a bitch—I had many reservations going into Disney's Mary Poppins Returns. 

One should never do that. It's just bad form. It could preemptively spoil one's enjoyment of such things, even if said things are, by nature, sequels, given to expectations and reflections of the first. Prejudices. Better to walk in with the expectations of a child—"Tell me a story!" Take it from there. Put away childish things and preconceptions. Leave the past behind, even though there are traces of echo informing your opinion. Nostalgia is for sissies. Don't let the old influence the new and just (forgive me for using the phrase in regards to another Disney film) "let it go."

(Okay, enough hedging, how is it?) Terrific, actually. I'm not a fan of musicals, but when they're exceptionally well done and the songs have a reason for being there and play with the language, then I become a fan of them. And Mary Poppins Returns delivers. I know when I'm enchanted by a movie—a smile has appeared on my face—and I was flashing incisors throughout most of the movie for just the sheer brio and panache of it. I have minor picayunish quibbles—consigned to near the wrap-up—but I won't spend much time on them. Best to concentrate on what's good, and there's plenty.

The Songs—the filmmakers don't shy away from it, they know they have tough competition from such Sherman Brothers songs as "A Spoonful of Sugar," "Chim-Chim-Cher-ee," "Feed the Birds," "Stay Awake," and, of course, "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious." But they face it head on, not with an overture, but with the first song, the place-setter, featuring Lin-Manual Miranda's "leerie" (lamplighter) on the rounds turning off the gas-lights around London.

Director Rob Marshall (of Chicago and Into the Woods) stages this with lovely swooping camera movements that allow the eye to breathe a little while never distracting from the song, but the song is a gem, and just the first of extraordinarily tuneful melodies that have added complications and variations to the patterns, less repetition, with dexterously placed book-smart, syncopated lyrics by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman (with consultation from the surviving Sherman Brother, Richard M.). Maybe too dexterous, too complicated for wee folks to wrap their tonsils around. That may not be a bad thing, but might work against the songs becoming immediate "hummable" (that requirement for greatness) standards. It doesn't make them any less noteworthy, though, and there's precious little "filler" material amongst them.

The Plot—The story has Mary Poppins (an extraordinary Emily Blunt) returning to the Banks house at Cherry Lane at the time of "The Great Slump." The Banks children, Michael (Ben Whishaw) and Jane (Emily Mortimer) are now grown and in crisis. Michael still lives there with his three kids, Anabel (Pixie Davies), John (Nathanael Saleh) and Georgie (Joel Dawson), and trying to cope with recent death of his wife and the imminent foreclosure of the family home. Sister Jane is a constant presence helping with the children's care, even though in many ways they are now more grown up than their grieving father, a starving artist who has recently taken a clerk's job at the Fidelity Fiduciary Bank that his father worked for. The head of said bank is the scoundrelly William Wilkins (Colin Firth in slow burn mode) who is a grasping opportunist and has little good about him (save for some laudable anti-discriminatory hiring practices).

The kids are little adults, aware of the family crisis, and in need of a childhood, which Ms. Poppins is there to provide, but also to help Michael get through this rough patch, and help all heal with the grieving process, and not look to the past but embrace the present and the possibilities of tomorrow. Oh..SPOILER ALERT!

Grief is quite a mature theme for a kid's movie (as was the original's premise of the saving of Mr. Banks, who had lost the ability to be a father while handling the role of the bread-winner*). But, Michael, after a life of arrested development (way to go, Mary!) following his bliss sketching and letting his wife deal with the financial ramifications, is now at his wit's end taking an actual job in order to make ends meet, and providing for his family (minus one). Boo to the hoo. This puts a lot of pressure on poor Ben Whishaw to not make Michael a pathetic loser, but, the actor manages to make the character understandable and sympathetic, which shows how fine an actor Whishaw is.

And since we're on the subject: 

The Performances—Look, we all love Julie Andrews—even if you've never supported her movies—and her Mary Poppins is, indeed, practically perfect in ever way. But, give it up to Emily Blunt, her Mary is better, a bit more like the P.L.Travers conception, with less of the obviously loving looks in the eye, but more of the controlling, adroit, slightly conceited, but no less incandescent spirit that is Mary Poppins ("We're on the brink of an adventure, children. Don't spoil it with questions!"). Given her precedent, then she must be perfect in every way. Rest assured, she is, with occasionally surprising additions of sauciness. I'd hire her to look after my kids in a heart-beat.

How is Lin-Manuel Miranda?—he's a surprising choice to portray a cockney labourer, but does he have the charisma to pull it off? Oh, yeah. Miranda has that "gotta dance" enthusiasm that can go either way in one's affections, but the man is such a trooper, he's immediately ingratiating, and welcome every time he appears.

Universally, every performance is accomplished and twinkly, the kids not cloying, and actually endearing, Julie Walters' housekeeper is a stitch, the cameos by Meryl Streep (at one point, Miranda says "I can't quite place your accent..."), Angela Lansbury, and Dick Van Dyke are delightful, all in service to a marvelous entertainment.

Which leads to...

The Production—The staging and direction by Marshall is sumptuous, accomplished, but feels a bit elephantine, almost a bit like the difference between the original Mary Poppins and George Cukor's film of My Fair Lady (the poster displayed above even resembles Bob Peak's poster for that film) released around the same time.** I put that down to the editing, which was a bit snappier in Robert Stevenson's film, but also because computer animation allows for greater scrutiny of images, in contrast to the matte paintings of the original.*** That might account for the feeling of "lingering" in the film. This is merely a "quibble" on my part.

But, when it comes to the traditional animation, Marshall insisted on "old-school" with line-drawn animation for the "Royal Daulton China" sequence, which is seamless and is the best integration of live-action with cartoon since Disney first experimented with it in 1923. It is all-together great and leads to a Music Hall sequence that is delightfully presented and shows off Blunt's and Manuel's musical talents at full throttle. 

I had a big smile on my face throughout a large part of Mary Poppins Returns, the kind that I rarely get most times, but happens in those instances when  a movie not only transports me, but challenges me because it is so smart and accomplished, and where there's ample craftsmanship in every aspect, but it also evokes delight. 

There is so much sturm and drang in movies these days, that it is wonderful to see a good movie that is so sweet during the Holiday season. Makes me nostalgic for those special event movies that catered to the whole family in those times and where everyone would enjoy themselves...and the movie.

Walking out, I thought to myself that the only thing the original had that this one lacks is memory.

But, give it time. This one will become just as cherished and only be more appreciated with repeat viewings.

* Oh, this is just silly, but it makes me think of a mash-up of Mary Poppins with The Godfather where Mary visits Lake Tahoe to help Michael Corleone not lose his family while trying to protect them. 

** In that year's Oscar race, there was a bit of a controversy: Julie Andrews was nominated for Best Actress for Mary Poppins, but also nominated was Audrey Hepburn who was chosen by Warners President Jack Warner to play the role of Eliza Doolittle, which Andrews had originated on Broadway to great acclaim. The choice of Hepburn over Andrews was considered a great snub, but left Andrews available to do Poppins, her first film role.  When Oscar time rolled around, the Academy chose Andrews for Best Actress.

*** The masterful work of Peter Ellenshaw, whose work is acknowledged in the film.

Brooklyn

Transplanting the Wild Irish Rose
or
Eilish Grows in Brooklyn

Saoirse Ronan (pronounced SUR-sha, in case John Travolta butchers it at the Oscars) is an odd duck of an actress. Born in the Bronx, she first became known for playing the youngest version of authoress Briony Tallis in Joe Wright's film of Atonement, followed it with City of Ember, the tough role as the victim in Peter Jackson's The Lovely Bones, Peter Weir's The Way Back, then switched to action in Wright's atypical Hanna. She's been bouncing around small films and doing voice-work (including "Robot Chicken?") for a couple years, trying to find a match for her oddly porcelain look and fiercely serene presence but seems to be passed over for major roles. She's found her niche in Brooklyn, John Crowley's film of the Colin Toibin novel (adapted by Nick Hornby, flawlessly) as not the most beautiful girl in County Wexford, with few prospects who is sponsored by the local Church to live and work in 1950's New York (1952, specifically, as one of her co-workers mentions she saw The Quiet Man at the movies last night).

On the transatlantic sailing, Eilish Lacey (Ronan) has a bit of a rough time of it, experiencing sickness and territorial fights over a shared bathroom. But, she is assisted by her cabin-mate, Georgina (Eva Birthistle), coming back from a visit back home, on life in New York, getting on in her new station, and most immediately, getting through immigration, where any hint of sickness will have her put in quarantine. "You have to think like an American," she advises Eilish at one point. "Look like you know where you're going."

Where she's going is the boarding house of Mrs. Keogh (Julie Walters, bless her) where Eilish is made to feel, at once, at home and like the new kid on the block. Other lasses are there, as well, and they're so Americanized, they're like from another planet. But, she tries her best to fit in at her work as a salesgirl at Bartocci's department store where her shyness with customers is a stumbling block, and she is crippled with homesickness for home. Her first letter from her sister back in Ireland she carries with her like a talisman. And it only feels worse, sending her into an emotional tail-spin.

But, she makes an effort. Her sponsor, Father Flood (Jim Broadbent) gets her enrolled in book-keeping classes at night, should the counter job fall through, and she volunteers at the Church's soup kitchen at Christmas for the indigent Irish in the city ("They built the bridges and tunnels and highways..." informs Father Flood), and she is moved to tears when one of the gents gets up to sing a traditional Irish ballad.

She tries to socialize a bit more, attending discreet dances, where she tries to learn to dance and she meets Tony (Emory Cohen, who's like a looser, more awkward Edward Norton in New York mode). She excels at class and grows closer to Tony, getting tips from the girls at the boarding house and at work.

Tony is besotted, despite the soft barriers of a "mixed" relationship (She's Irish; he's Italian) and they go dancing, see movies. He walks her home from class. And they start to get "serious," seriously. The girls approve, thinking Tony a "catch" because he's Italian but doesn't talk about the Dodgers and his Mother all the time. An invitation for Eilish to have dinner with his family necessitates an intense lesson in how to properly eat spaghetti. A trip to Coney Island throws her support system into a tizzy, insisting that she buy sunglasses and the best swimsuit ("You don't want to put him off," says Mrs. Keogh).

But, tragedy strikes back home and Eilish travels back to Ireland, where life has changed and the local girl with no prospects is suddenly a cosmopolitan woman, now seen as sophisticated and capable by the locals. She is noticed, both by the local boys and the businesses that wouldn't have hired her before. After her homesickness in New York, she realizes that she could make a life for herself at home.

But, where is that? Is that back in the small town embrace of her birth or the place where she has built a life for herself, despite the odds. She will do well either place. Whichever she chooses, she will break someone's heart, disappoint others, and, no doubt, wonder what might have been, no matter where she is.

But, where is that? Where is home? Where will her future be, knowing that both could provide that?

"Home is home," Tony says at one point. Simple enough, but not much help. Both are home. Both will pull at her heart at some point in whatever the future holds. She is caught in an emotional stasis, wondering what that future will hold with the inevitable "what-might-have-been."

Brooklyn is a film of telling details that seem "just right" from the casting to the dialogue to the locales to the habits. The issues it touches are fundamental: about survival and the pain that growing causes and the struggles of the heart stretched to capacity but unable to occupy two places at once.

None of this would matter one whit if you didn't care about the characters and, as heart-felt and true as Hornby's script is, the film's chief weapon for getting under one's skin is Ronan. She does nothing theatrical here, doesn't "twinkle." never flirts with the audience. Quite the opposite, hers is a quiet performance that doesn't project, is contained and maybe too proud to betray anything, but draws you in despite that. Ronan has always had a "zen" quality to her acting, even as a child, but this may be the perfect melding of actor to role in all of 2015.

Brooklyn is also one of the rare movies where fate made the perfect casting decisions. Ronan was considered too young for the part when it was being prepped and Rooney Mara was cast instead. By happenstance, the movie was delayed, forcing Mara to bow out due to scheduling conflicts (and thus move into her Oscar nominated performance in Carol), and Ronan to age gracefully into the role, to the betterment of both actress and film. In my (worthless) Oscar preferences, I was rooting for Brie Larson to win for Room. She has been displaced and I would be more than happy for Ronan to win, even if they butcher her name.