MARY POPPINS: 50th Anniversary Blu-ray (Walt Disney 1964) Disney Home Video
Mary Poppins: fifty years later and still practically perfect in
every way…or at least so the 1964 Walt Disney classic would suggest; an
effortless blend of live action and animation undeniably marking a crowning
achievement for the studio. It all looks so effortless, so completely right in
tone, deportment and accoutrements that one can easily forget two aspects of
the movie’s arduous production. First, that Poppins was a movie at least 25 years in the making, and second – that
it took liberties with P.L. Travers original children’s novel; occasionally to
the author’s chagrin. Travers was much more the caustic and intimidating nanny
of her novel than the sugary sweet – if ever so slightly pert - reincarnation a
la Julie Andrews. Indeed, Walt had tried to woo the reluctant authoress for
nearly twenty years with prospects of turning her first book into a movie.
Travers, however, remained staunchly unconvinced; chiefly because she had seen
other time-honored literature transformed into ‘marketable’ entertainments by
Hollywood; relying on a book’s title – but precious little else - to sell
stories and characters not in keeping with the original sentiments of the work.
But Travers may have also thought Walt incapable of producing any version based
on her beloved children’s classic.
Walt’s
earliest contact with Travers began in 1938; a cordial letter affectionately
praising the authoress. It was immediately met with a rather stern rebuke.
Disney had, in fact, no track record for producing live action movies then, and
had only just experienced his first flourish of worldwide success with his
foray into animated features: Snow White
and the Seven Dwarfs (1937). Over the next two decades Walt intermittently
wrote Travers with subsequent inquiries, all the while building a private
rapport with the author and a public reputation as one of the movies’ most formidable
storytellers. By the mid-1950’s talks between Travers and Walt were on more
amicable terms. Perhaps Travers had seen one of Disney’s superb live-action
literary-to-screen adaptations (20,000
Leagues Under the Sea 1954, and Old
Yeller 1957 immediately come to mind). Or maybe the starchy Brit was just
getting weary of saying ‘no’ to this
persistent and much beloved figure of family entertainment. Travers did pay
Walt a singular compliment in an interview around 1959, saying that if anyone
could do Mary Poppins justice it
would likely be Disney.
But this was
the last bit of encouragement Walt would receive from Travers as pre-production
on Mary Poppins began. Disney was,
in fact, taking a terrible gamble on Travers and Mary Poppins. At the time he signed Richard M. and Robert B.
Sherman to write the score he had neither Travers’ approval to move forward nor
any guarantee from the authoress that she would grant her consent in the near
future. Hence, Walt was investing funds on a project that might never have seen
the light of day in his latest attempt to woo Travers to his way of thinking.
Travers did come around – barely – but only after Walt agreed to give her
unprecedented access and final approval on virtually all aspects of the production;
starting with the score and ending with her seal of approval on its final cut. Travers
made no bones about the fact she would be overseeing Walt’s progress on an
almost daily basis; her keenly critical eye studying Julie Andrews like a hawk.
It’s enough to
unsettle any actress – but particularly Andrews who had, as yet, not appeared
in a movie and was rather callously overlooked by Jack Warner for his big
budget screen version of My Fair Lady
(1964). In the meantime, Walt had seen Andrews in the London West End
production of Camelot opposite
Richard Burton, and was overwhelmed by her presence and singing voice.
Backstage the die was cast for Andrews to come to America and do Mary Poppins. It would prove a most
fortuitous decision, earning the relatively unknown actress the much coveted
Best Actress Academy Award. Andrews, who once desperately hoped to do the movie
version of My Fair Lady, had the
last laugh on Oscar night when, during her acceptance speech she reserved her
final thanks for “…the man who made all
this possible – Mr. Jack Warner!”; a rather ribald snub done
tongue-in-cheek that brought down the house and even made Jack smile.
In hindsight, Mary Poppins is such a perfect
confection; perhaps the best all-around family entertainment made since The Wizard of Oz (1939). But behind the
scenes it was also a lot of hard work. P.L. Travers constant scrutiny aside,
Walt had taken on considerable responsibility, necessitating a new level of
scope and quality from his artisans; by far his most large-scale project. To
this end Walt assigned his two top story men, Bill Walsh and Don Da Gradi to
rework Travers’ book into a manageable screenplay. For purposes of concision,
the Banks’ children were paired down to two and Mary’s travels around the world
using a magic compass, expunged from the plot. Walsh and Da Gradi also
consolidated the characteristics of several supporting characters in the book
into one jack-of-all-trades for the movie, played with inimitable charm by Dick
Van Dyke, whose cockney accent left very much to be desired.
The story’s
timeline regressed from Travers’ WWII setting to the more gentile Edwardian age
drawing yet another parallel between Poppins
and My Fair Lady. This also afforded
Walt the opportunity to indulge in some truly marvelous set recreations of that
more elegant English era. Finally, at Walt’s insistence, one of the pivotal
moments in the movie would involve Mary taking the children on a ‘Jolly Holiday’; a musical jaunt through
a series of chalk pavement pictures sketched by chimney sweep/scrivener,
Bert. P.L. Travers objected to this
sequence – a sumptuous blend of live action and animation – with Walt
exercising his authority on this very rare occasion to veto the authoress. Choreographers
Mark Breaux and Dee Dee Wood began the arduous task of working out the movie’s
many intricate dance sequences. Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews had never
danced before. But they proved quick studies. Still, there were endless hours
of rehearsal – leaping, jumping, tumbling and tapping in the hot sun on the
Burbank lot while sound stages were readied with exquisite reproductions of
merry ole England via Carroll Clark and William H. Tuntke’s production design.
Mary Poppins also presented various technological challenges that
had to be worked out in advance. Walt’s technicians – notably headed by Ub
Iwerks – had perfected the sodium matte process some years earlier, an
in-camera photographic bit of trickery isolating foreground live action (shot
under natural lighting conditions) and seamlessly matting backgrounds and
miniatures later, using sodium ‘yellow’ light. Matte artist Peter Ellenshaw
painted all of Mary Poppins
evocative aerial shots; romanticized bird’s eye views of London on glass. Finally, Walt put his top animators on
crafting his ‘Jolly Holiday’
sequence; a lavishly appointed bit of escapism that had Mary, Bert and the
Banks’ children cavorting with various barnyard animals, penguin waiters,
riding in a fox hunt, and finally, engaging Pearlie street performers in a
spirited gavotte to ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialadocious’;
arguably, the most memorable song in the Sherman Brothers’ stellar score.
In hindsight, Mary Poppins songs are exemplars of a
certain style in film scoring that, regrettably, is no more a part of our
popular entertainments. Each song, from the aforementioned exuberant duet
between Mary and Bert (ably assisted by the Pearlies) to the lyrical and
heartrending ballad, ‘Feed the Birds’
(said to be Walt’s all-time favorite), to the spirited ‘Step in Time’ and plucky nursery work song, ‘A Spoonful of Sugar’ is instantly recognizable, hummable and
indelibly etched into our collective consciousness from the very first moment.
Yet, it is important to note that the Sherman brothers’ efforts on Mary Poppins included twenty-one cast
offs: songs either rejected by Walt or P.L. Travers or cut due to time constraints
and edits made along the way. Of the sixteen tunes remaining, virtually all
deliver the sort of flashy razzamatazz expected from a big budget Hollywood
musical; the showstoppers and the ballads intermingled to create a frothy and
seemingly uncomplicated aural supplement.
Mary Poppins opens with a spectacular overview of London at
twilight, Peter Ellenshaw’s evocative matte painting aligned with live action
footage of Mary Poppins (Julie Andrews) perched high atop a cloud, adjusting
her umbrella and carpet bag while applying a smattering of rouge to her cheeks
as she prepares to descend upon her next port of call. We drop from the heavens
into a park near Cherry Tree Lane; our master of ceremonies, Bert (Dick Van
Dyke) entertaining a gathering as a one-man-band. A change in the wind leads
Bert to deduce that something magical is about to occur. He begins by taking us
on a tour of this affluent neighborhood; the camera pausing a moment on the
imposing edifice of retired sea captain, Admiral Boom (Reginald Owen) who
informs Bert that there are ‘storm signals’ up at #17; the impressive abode of
George (David Tomlinson) and Winifred (Glynis Johns) Banks.
Indeed, upon
closer inspection we learn that the cook, Mrs. Brill (Reta Shaw) and the Banks’
nanny, Katie Nanna (Elsa Lanchester) have quarreled for the last time. Although
the upstairs maid, Ellen (Hermione Baddeley) implores Katie Nanna to stay on, a
request seconded by the rather flighty Winifred who has just returned
invigorated from her latest Suffragette meeting to discover her adoring
children, Michael (Matthew Garber) and Jane (Katharine Dotrice) are missing,
Katie Nanna demands an immediate computation of her wages, departing the Banks’
domicile just as George is returning home from work.
Herein, the
Shermans’ score brilliantly informs us of the changing – or perhaps conflicted
- times in aristocratic Edwardian England; an era where men still regard
themselves as ‘the sultans, the lieges’
of their homes (nee castles) while their women are steadily gaining ground in
their campaign for ‘political equality
and equal rights as men’. “We’re clearly soldiers in petticoats,”
Winifred explains to Mrs. Brill, Katie Nanna and Ellen, “And dauntless crusaders for women’s votes. Though we adore men
individually, we agree that as a group they’re rather stupid.” Contrast
this with George’s emphatic and pontificating, “It's grand to be an Englishman in 1910. King Edward's on the throne;
it's the age of men…I treat my subjects: servants, children, wife with a firm
but gentle hand - noblesse oblige.”
The Banks’ confusion
is momentarily quelled with the return of Jane and Michael by the kindly
Constable (Arthur Treacher) and George’s declaration that he will handle making
all inquiries for a new governess. Jane and Michael have their own ideas, of
course; their imploring for a rosy-cheeked nanny who’s ‘fairly sweet and very pretty’ and ‘plays games – all sorts’ all but ignored as George reaches for his
pen to take out an advertisement in The Times. After the children have gone to
bed George destroys their letter in the unlit living room hearth, the torn
pieces floating up its flue and magically reassembled in Mary Poppins’ gloved
hands. The next day George is astounded by Mary’s pert evaluation of the Banks’
family home, telling George she’ll give him one month to make ‘her’ decision on
whether or not she’ll stay.
Naturally, the
children are overjoyed at Mary’s arrival – sliding up the banister on her fanny
as though she were in a lift. In short order, the new nanny removes the most
confounding assortment of personal effects from her rather meager carpet bag,
including a large plant, floor lamp and unique tape measure. After measuring up
Jane and Michael, Mary’s first task seems very much like hard work – tidying up
the nursery. Instead, Mary explains how “in
every job that must be done there is an element of fun…you find the fun and
snap – the job’s a game.” Indeed, with Mary’s melodic guidance, Jane and
Michael discover the joy in their exercise and thus transform a task into their
pleasure. Afterward, Mary takes the children to the park where they meet Bert
who is, at present, earning his living as an artist of chalk pavement pictures.
When Bert suggests that Mary might easily teleport them all into a ‘jolly holiday’ inside one of his
renderings Jane and Michael are overjoyed. But Mary resists until Bert makes a
minor spectacle of himself in a feeble attempt to outdo her.
Mary and Bert
take the children by the hand and leap into the lush and escapist cartoon world
of a pastoral countryside, complete with a carousel that delights beyond all
measure after Mary’s light touch animates the horses, crossing the imaginary
threshold of the ride; first into a fox hunt, and then onto a steeple chase
Mary effortlessly wins by politely asking the other riders to make way for her. At her loving cup and floral horseshoe
victory presentation, Bert encourages Mary to offer a few words to the
clamoring press; her elation exemplified by only one: ‘supercalifragilisticexpialadocious’. The exuberance of this moment
ends with a clasp of thunder, a sudden rainstorm drawing Mary, Bert and the
children from this imaginary world back into their rather gloomy reality. To
stave off the prospect of a cold, Mary administers medicine to Jane, Michael
and herself; the tri-colored liquid spilling forth from a single bottle
tasting, at intervals, like raspberries, lime cordial and rum punch. Michael
defiantly refuses to go to sleep. But Mary lulls both her wards to slumber with
a poignant ballad, ironically titled ‘Stay
Awake’.
The next day
Mary and the children begin a journey into the heart of London – delayed at the
last moment when Mrs. Lark’s (Marjorie Bennett) dog, Andrew informs Mary
through a series of inquisitive barks that Uncle Albert (Ed Wynn) is caught in
a perilous fit of laughter. Jane and Michael follow Mary to Uncle Albert’s home
where they discover the wiry and vivacious prankster floating very near his
ceiling. Bert’s attempt at damage control aggravates the situation; Uncle
Albert’s infectious chuckles causing Bert and the children to eventually joint
him for a tea party on the ceiling. Mary agrees to pour, but criticizes the
men’s fortitude as they ‘Love to Laugh’
before terminating their joy altogether my informing the children they must all
go home at once. Upon their return Jane and Michael regale their father with
some of their high-spirited adventures. George sends them off to bed before
confronting Mary. She agrees to be more firm with the children, but after
dinner serenades them once again; this time with a snow globe of St. Paul’s
cathedral where the little old bird woman comes to ‘Feed the Birds’. If Mary
Poppins – the movie - does have a heart, then ‘Feed The Birds’ is undeniably its most sustained and poetic beat; tenderly
melodic, slightly sad, yet thoroughly affecting.
The next day
George elects to take his children to his place of work, the Dawes’
Fidelity-Fiduciary bank overseen by Mr. Dawes Sr. (Dick Van Dyke, quite
convincingly disguised) and his son (Arthur Malet). The excursion turns into a
minor disaster when Michael refuses to open an account for his tuppence, thus
inadvertently creating the illusion that the bank is refusing to give someone
their money. As a result, there is a run on the bank. Jane and Michael escape
into the night, terrified before running into Bert who is presently working as
a chimney sweep. Bert encourages Mary to take them all on a breathtaking
journey across the rooftops of London; Peter Ellenshaw’s superb matte paintings
of London at twilight still one of the most gorgeous pieces of art. Bert
recalls his fellow chimney sweeps to ‘Step
in Time’; their energetic dance inciting Admiral Boom to fire his canon
full of fireworks at the unseemly revelers. George comes home to find his
children covered in soot, the house full of sweeps prancing about with Mrs.
Brill and Ellen.
Later, George
is recalled to the bank and let go from his position. Mr. Dawes Sr. attempts to
humiliate George in front of the other bankers to set an example. Instead,
George confronts the old miser with some inspired flippancy, charging out of
the bank as though he were mad. At dawn, Winifred telephones the police,
worried her husband has taken drastic measures. Instead, she finds him much
changed for the better, having mended Jane and Michael’s battered kite and encouraging
the family to take a holiday in the park. They are met by the younger Mr.
Dawes, also flying a kite with the other elder bankers, who informs George that
his father died laughing, thus opening up a new position for George at the
bank. Realizing she has fulfilled her promise – to restore this loving family
unit – Mary departs into the clouds. “They
think more of their father than they do of you,” her rather haughty
parrot-handled umbrella reminds. “That’s
as it should be,” Mary quietly replies. Although the Banks’ family does not
notice Mary’s departure, Bert doffs his cap into the skies, adding, “So long, Mary Poppins. Don’t stay away too
long.”
Mary Poppins is undeniably Walt’s most satisfying live action
feature. Under Disney’s direction the studio made many fine features but none
quite so unique; the culmination of all the creativity, ingenuity and
technological proficiency homegrown and fostered by Walt at his studio. Indeed,
Disney’s legacy cannot be compared to any of the other dream factory merchants
in Hollywood. Walt’s movies were relatively few and far between by comparison –
especially during his early years when animation was his sole bread and butter.
The diversification of Disney’s output, first into live action shorts, then
features, and finally television (and this at a time when virtually all of his
contemporaries shunned that ‘little black
box’ taking over everyone’s living room) in hindsight illustrates the
liquescency of Walt’s dreams; his ability to make inroads into virtually all
aspects of the entertainment industry and excel in each; and finally, to achieve
his own heart’s desire by making some very fine films that have since withstood
the test of time and become cherished cultural touchstones in the world of entertainment.
Without question, Mary Poppins is
one of these enduring masterworks; the final flourish of this ancient Disney Empire
under Walt’s rule.
Of course, the
film also marks Julie Andrews foray into American movies; a very blessed debut indeed.
Although Andrews’ squeaky clean public persona would acquire the unflattering
patina of being referenced in jest as the world’s oldest virgin (a stereotype
Andrews sought to rectify years later by bearing her breasts in 1981’s S.O.B.) in reviewing Mary Poppins today one finds an
exceptionally varied, and not altogether saccharine performance emerging from
beneath the prim waist coat and high-cut lace collar. Andrews’ Poppins displays
elements of stoic British pride, hints of vanity, moments of stern frustration,
and, even a flashing glimpse of petty larceny in defiance of England’s ensconced
patriarchy.
Asked by a
perturbed George to explain herself after his house has been infiltrated by
chimney sweeps, Andrews’ Poppins grows instantly stern. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” she informs George, before
shedding her glower for a congenial grin, “I
never explain anything!” Her Poppins
isn’t about to let the children have things easy. They will learn the necessary
life lessons – but only when challenged with her guiding hand and understanding
heart. In short, Mary is practically perfect in every way; the sort of maternal
influence one sincerely wishes on every child’s upbringing.
Dick Van
Dyke’s charming jack of all trades is mostly delightful; a genial man who never
succumbs to playing the fop. Indeed, P.L. Travers was adamant that Walt’s movie
make no hint of a ‘relationship’ between Mary and Bert. Disney obliged, to a
point, relying on friendly glances between Andrews and Van Dyke to suggest
perhaps something more to their comradeship. Disney’s homegrown favorites, including
David Tomlinson, Rita Shaw and Ed Wynn all live up to our expectations. Half
the battle in achieving movie magic is pluperfect casting. Mary Poppins certainly has this licked in spades. Yet when we
conjure to mind visions of Edwardian England we’re likely to imagine it as
Disney’s artists and behind-the-scenes artisans have; a cordial and inviting
series of gated and impeccably manicured homes perpetually bathed in sooty
bluish hues of a gloomy, yet somehow enveloping, London air; the fog kept at
bay, the citizenry sporting their bowlers and buttoned down laces.
Life and art
are irreconcilable…or rather, ought to be. Disney’s fictionalized London is a
sumptuous feast for the eyes and so utterly convincing that it just might be
misconstrued as a reasonable facsimile of the real thing. That’s an
extraordinary achievement and it works brilliantly to evoke P.L. Travers’
vision as well. In one of his last pleas to the authoress, Walt made an earnest
promise to Travers that audiences would leave the theater overjoyed for having
witnessed the experience of seeing her characters brought to life in his movie.
Fifty years later, the sincerity in his undertaking endures. Mary Poppins remains Walt at his
finest; a true testament to a great man doing miraculous things with a superior
story and cast at his disposal.
Disney’s 50th
Anniversary Blu-ray is a revelation long overdue. But it’s been well worth the
wait to see Mary Poppins looking so
utterly perfect in every way. The 1.66:1 hi-def image is extraordinary; a
reference quality 1080p rendering by any stretch of the imagination with colors
vastly improved over previously issued DVD releases. Flesh tones are
remarkable, with other colors popping as they should, particularly during the Jolly Holiday sequence, easily one of
the most joyously colorful sequences ever put on film. Contrast is excellent
throughout. Film grain has been faithfully reproduced and matte lines are
mostly concealed for a smooth visual presentation sure to delight. Disney Home
Video’s three audio options - remastered DTS 7.1, DTS 5.1 and Dolby Digital 2.0
offer the listener strikingly clean and vibrant renditions of Irwin Kostel’s
magical orchestrations with dialogue crisp and very natural.
Extras are
mostly carry overs from Disney’s lavishly appointed DVD from a few years ago.
New to Blu-ray: a compiled audio commentary featuring sound bytes from Julie
Andrews, Dick Van Dyke, Richard Sherman and Karen Dotrice; a somewhat
self-congratulatory and altogether brief featurette starring Jason Schwartzman,
who plays Richard Sherman in the upcoming theatrical release of ‘Saving
Mr. Banks’ – the story behind the making of Mary Poppins – and Mary-Oke (a riff on Karaoke…get it?) where you
can sing along with only four songs given the animated sing-a-long treatment. Mercifully, Disney continues its tradition of
including virtually every extra feature ported over from their original DVD and
these include the fairly comprehensive ‘making
of’ just shy of an hour with contributions from many surviving cast and
crew affectionately waxing about the indelible magic they have wrought. Also
included, a nearly hour long backstage pass to the New York and London live theater
incarnations, the complete stage version of ‘Step in Time’; the Grauman’s Chinese Theater world premiere, vintage
radio interviews, a brief featurette on the various SFX featured in the movie,
and deconstruction pieces for the Jolly
Holiday and Step in Time musical
sequences.
We get some
make-up tests of Dick Van Dyke as Mr. Dawes, various trailers, a ‘recollections’ piece featuring Andrews,
Van Dyke and Richard Sherman, and storyboards recreating the deleted Chimpanzoo
song, an animated short - ‘The Cat That
Looked at a King (voiced by Andrews) and promos for the aforementioned Saving Mr. Banks and the upcoming
January Blu-ray release of Disney’s beloved animated classic, Jungle Book. Frankly, we’re looking
forward to some ‘bare necessities’.
For now, Mary Poppins rates our
highest praise and recommendation. It is a must have movie presented for the
very first time in a transfer befitting the caliber of its enduring legacy.
Quite simply wonderful. Enjoy!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
5+
Comments