Practically perfect in a 1960s sort of way
How do you follow a movie that’s viewed by many as ‘‘practically perfect in every way’’? In Rob Marshall’s case, it’s by trying to recreate the magic of the almost 55-year-old original.
Jostling for space in multiplexes dominated by state-of-the-art computer animation and blockbusting action, Mary Poppins Returns is that rare, often-thoughtnow-extinct beast – an intergenerational crowdpleaser seemingly specifically designed for grandparents to take their young charges to during the seemingly endless summer school holidays.
Set three decades after Julie Andrews’ supernatural nanny ascended back into the clouds (and inspired by the remaining seven books about her that P L Travers wrote), David Magee’s (Life of Pi, Finding Neverland) screenplay opens with the residents of 17 Cherry Tree Lane in crisis.
Despite being a bank teller at Fidelity Fiduciary, Michael Banks (Ben Whishaw) has failed to get a grip on the family finances since his beloved wife Kate died last year. There’s only pickled herrings and marmalade in the pantry and he’s fallen three months behind in mortgage payments.
Sister Jane (Emily Mortimer) has been pitching in, but now Michael has only five days to find the money before he and his three children are tossed out into the streets.
He’s sure though that his father left him shares in the bank – if he could only find them among the clutter of the house.
However, just as he’s beginning to tear his hair out, an old acquaintance from his past breezes in, demanding her old room back and informing Michael that ‘‘she has come to look after the Banks children’’.
Despite the trials, tribulations and expense involved in bringing Travers’ charmed childminder to the big screen in 1964 (as documented in the 2015 movie Saving Mr Banks), Mary Poppins became one of Walt Disney’s mostsuccessful and beloved creations.
Not only did it top the box-office that year, it also took home five Academy Awards (not something any of the more high-profile animated features can claim).
He had wanted to make a sequel as soon as the following year, but Travers, apparently appalled at the ‘‘vulgar and disrespectful’’ take on her tale, wasn’t having a bar of it. What she’d make of Marshall’s sequel is hard to know, but oddly, this would not look out of place among the cinema releases of 1965.
Like the original Poppins, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Doctor Dolittle, this is an unabashed, brightly coloured musical, with hissable villains, acerbic heroes and clever children.
The songs, while not nearly as memorable as Spoonful of Sugar or
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, are an eclectic, engaging bunch, ranging from flight-of-fancy Can You Imagine That? to the mournful
A Conversation and sassy showstopper A Cover is Not the Book. But like Marshall’s last musical outing, Into the Woods, they just lack the flow or earworm stickability of traditional Disney tunes.
That’s certainly no fault of the cast – Whishaw reprises his endearing Paddington schtick in human form, Lin Manuel Miranda’s (Broadway smash Hamilton) lamplighter proves to be an amiable guide and Emily Blunt, sporting a series of stunning outfits, has a fabulous blend of strict matronliness and cheeky charm as the eponymous Mary.
Also look out for a quartet of delightful cameos from Angela Lansbury, Colin Firth, Meryl Streep and Dick van Dyke.
The one real disappointment is the central conceit, which adheres to modern-day Disney mores.
As with the Mouse House’s recent releases Christopher Robin and Nutcracker, strip away the candy-coloured exterior and this is a story about adults forgetting their childhoods and failing to deal with grief.
It means that while the kids struggle to adapt to a dose of oldschool two-dimensional animation, adults are left with a distinct sense of deja vu.
As enjoyable an entertainment as this is, it will only leave you yearning to see that classic Simpsons’ parody Shary Bobbins for a little light relief.
Oddly, this would not look out of place among the cinema releases of 1965.