MARY POPPINS RETURNS: 4K Blu-ray (Walt Disney, 2018) Walt Disney Home Video

Someone forgot to inform director, Rob Marshall of the tenuous balancing act all musical entertainments need to fulfill to be buoyed on the symbiotic ether of merriment and mirth. Too few musicals made over the past 20 years have understood this fundamental. And Mary Poppins Returns (2018) is perhaps, the most egregious transgressor of the lot. For, in retooling P.L. Travers ‘practically perfect’ nanny for millennials, Marshall’s score-laden successor all but bludgeons the lithe and seemingly effortless joy that made Walt’s 1964 movie an instantly recognizable masterpiece. On the surface, Marshall has done his homework. Chiefly thanks to John Myhre’s immaculate production design, Sandy Powell’s costuming, and, Emily Blunt’s melodic Poppins - a slightly crisper, though no less enigmatic presence, self-possessed, and, with a wry wit all her own, Mary Poppins Returns manages to at least ‘look’ the part of a studio-bound pastiche to that ‘other’ Disney feature hewn under Walt’s creative aegis. Alas, ‘looks’ alone are not enough to save the picture. Marc Shaiman/Scott Wittman’s uber-sophisticated score is an articulate, though grating and noisy assortment of cotton, hay and rags, brought down from the attic of #17 Cherry Tree Lane, owing more to Broadway razzamatazz than a carefully calculated film score. They are not one in the same, folks. This is precisely why, when a good many Broadway shows make their leap to movie screens, they bear only a passing fancy or nothing at all structural to the stage spectacles.

While the songs in Mary Poppins Returns undeniably illustrate Shaiman’s wordsmith capabilities with rhyming couplets, the net result produces not a single tune we can chim-chim-cheree-ing walking out of the theater, much less fifty years into the future. Somewhere along the way, Shaiman and Wittman have overlooked an essential of film score writing 101. A score has to be more than phonetically inventive to be truly unforgettable. Just one of the Sherman brothers, ‘Spoonful of Sugars’ – simple, concise and teeming with zip and bounce - is worth ten ‘Turning Turtles’ – easily, one of the most obnoxious ditties in this new offering of songs, croaked by a heavily pancaked Meryl Streep, doing five minutes of Alla Nazimova on crack. Ditto for ‘The Cover is Not the Book’, a rather shameless stab at rekindling the original’s ‘um-diddle-diddle-diddle, um, diddle-eih’ busker’s chant to cap off the fantastical magic of the ‘Jolly Holiday’ cartoon/live action sequence – made undiluted and iconic by the nonsensical charmer, ‘Supercalafragalisticexpialadocious’. I would not be drawing so many parallels between Walt’s Teflon-coated classic and this wandering wannabe, except that Marshall and his cast seem hell-bent to chronically remind us of as much, carbon-copying the first movie’s outline, though hardly the details that made the original movie a true gem. Remember, folks – the devil is in the details…always!

I suspect a good deal of Shaiman’s inspiration for this new score derived from the casting of Lin-Manuel ‘rappin’ Hamilton’ Miranda as the street-lighter, Jack. Miranda’s monumental splash in that runaway Broadway pop opera re-imagining of history practically guaranteed his casting herein. And while Mary Poppins Returns might have benefited from a sprinkle of Miranda’s light ‘jumpin’ Jack flash’, despite its historical inaccuracy (there was no ‘yo bro’ in Soho back then), virtually all of his songs quickly escalate into interminable rapid fire ‘speak/sung’ jargon a la a Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady (1964); alas, spewed as verbal diarrhea herein with none of Harrison’s finesse to cleverly enunciate or intuitively punctuate, thereby drawing our attention to certain phrases that, collectively, make up the whole. Instead, we get garble…a lot of it, to the point where the words become utterly inconsequential. Like wading through a Mariah Carey concert, where the barrel-breasted pop diva finds it necessary to hit fifty octaves on every song regardless of its emotional content, each time Lin-Manuel Miranda opens his mouth in Mary Poppins Returns, he makes us cringe for an impending tsunami of gens.

But the biggest gripe I have with Mary Poppins Return is that, once we set aside the dollops of frenetic energy invested in the ‘return’ itself, the exercise becomes transparent, anesthetizing, loud and wholly unnecessary. Worse, David Magee’s screenplay has taken the essence of the original story and pretty much regurgitated - if not directly its plot, then more precisely - its story-teller’s arc. Whereas the Sherman brothers’ score in the original movie was expressively designed to allow the Banks’ children their brief respites from the harsher realities of life, the Shaiman/Wittman pieces serve as an elaborate reminder that the world of fantasy is simply that – fleeting, false, and only marginally fun while it briefly lasts. The Sherman’s’ score informed character development and built steadily into one or two musical crescendos worthy of full-on ballyhoo (the aforementioned ‘Jolly Holiday’ sequence, and, rooftop chimney sweep gavotte to ‘Step in Time’). But the songs in Mary Poppins Returns are mere connect-the-dots to migrate the audience from one perfunctory plot point to the next while beating our eardrums into submission with a cacophony of libretti, shoehorned and as crippled by their incessant and out-of-step beat that, more often than not, bears none of the hallmarks of the Edwardian ‘rum-dilly-um-dum rum-dilly-ah’ musical hall heritage from whence our Mary and her assortment of ‘cheeky’ cohorts is supposed to hail. Even by 1935 standards, presumably the setting for this movie, the music remains too contemporary, taking the audience out of the story rather than providing another, deeper layer of immersion into its vintage trappings. 

My other peeve with Mary Poppins Returns derives from an affliction not exclusive to its production; Dion Beebe’s whirling cinematography, never settling on any shot for very long, and, further Ginsu-ed by Wyatt’s Smith’s chop-shop editing, burying any genuine appreciation for John DeLuca’s choreography. DeLuca knows how to stage a number, as his mesmerizing assortment of, struts, leaps, bell-kicks, whirling fire poles, and Cirque du Soliel-inspired bicycle maneuvers during the ‘Trip A Little Light Fantastic’ sequence can attest. But the whole menagerie gets circumvented by Beebe’s inability to grasp there is enough spirit, spunk and energy already on tap, making his dizzying camera pans, dollies and tilts absurd rather than adding even more gilt to the proverbial lily. And then, there are the cameos to wade through; Colin Firth’s ineffectual baddie, William Weatherall Wilkins; Meryl Streep’s fluttery and frozen-pussed Cousin Topsy, David Warner – a wheel-chair bound Admiral Boom, Angela Lansbury’s balloon lady (I guess, the little ole bird woman is passé), and Dick Van Dyke’s all-too-brief resurgence as Mr. Dawes Jr. Okay, let us pause a moment and rewind here for a dash of common sense. While Van Dyke’s presence (at age 93, he briefly sings and dances with more vitality than half his co-stars in Mary Poppins Returns) is immeasurably welcomed and utterly delightful, shouldn’t ‘young’ Mr. Dawes be dead by the time this story is taking place? Ditto of Admiral Boom and Jim Norton’s Mr. Binnacle. These old buggers were ancient scrolls of parchment in Mary Poppins when Jane (Karen Dotrice) and Michael Banks (Matthew Garber) were barely nine and ten years old.

Do the math.  The Banks ‘children’ – now all grown up and played ineffectually by Emily Mortimer and Ben Whishaw – are in their mid-to-late thirties. And, hey – wait a minute – Dawes, ‘died laughing’ over Mr. Bank’s (David Tomlinson) recitation of Uncle Albert’s (Ed Wynn) joke about a man with a wooden leg named Smith. Yeah! Yeah. What’s the name of his other leg – remember?  But according to Mary Poppins proper, that old coot was Mr. Dawes’ Sr.!  Only Mr. Dawes Jr. in the original, bore no earthly resemblance to his late father, as played by Arthur Malet. So, Dawes Jr.’s miraculous morphing into the spitting image of Dick Van Dyke as Mr. Dawes Jr. now is just plain creepy; almost as weird as the penultimate scaling of a blackened out Big Ben by a small contingent of lamp lighters led by Jack (who, spread eagle on their ladders wedged between Ben’s stone artifice, now vaguely resemble the reptilian assault from James Cameron’s Aliens, 1986), or even ‘curiouser’ – to quote ‘Alice’ of Wonderland fame, the transformation of Returns’ ‘Royal Doulton’ cartoon sequence into a sort of pish-tosh/spit-spot Tim Burton-esque Nightmare Before Adulthood. Clever foreshadowing or perverse hallucination, designed to make the tiniest tots poop themselves from fright? You decide.

After a rather lackluster overture, sung by Jack as he takes us on a tour of London’s sooty spring, the plot to Mary Poppins Returns gets off to a maudlin start. Seems Michael Banks, the little boy who wanted to feed the birds with his tuppence, grew up, became a teller at his father place of employ – the Fidelity-Fiduciary Bank, inherited No. 17 Cherry Tree Lane and married a delightful woman – Kate – who, after giving him three precocious children, eldest, John (Nathanael Saleh), middle child, Anabel (Pixie Davies) and youngest, Georgie (Joel Dawson), unfortunately died of cancer. To shore up her medical debts, Michael took out a loan against the property that, at present, is being recalled – in full – by the bank’s bumbling solicitors, Gooding (Jeremy Swift) and Frye (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith). For no logical reason – other than he is just plain ole vanilla bad – the bank’s president, Wilkins is determined to see Michael and his family evicted from their ancestral home, while glibly professing to aid in Michael’s search for his late father’s shares in Fidelity-Fiduciary. These would, in fact, be enough to cover the payment on the loan in full. We hear the movie’s one ‘quiet’ song, ‘A Conversation’ as Michael waxes to his deceased wife in the attic, praying for guidance – alas, to no avail. Meanwhile, Michael’s sister, Jane has long since become an advocate for worker’s rights. Still, she finds the time to help her brother and be a doting female influence for the children, who have grown up much too fast in their mother’s absence.

Enter, Mary Poppins – sparing Georgie from his newly mended and wayward kite (the same one Michael flew at the end of the original movie). Her first order of business, after startling Jane and Michael, is to give the Banks’ children a bath. And what an extraordinary bit of fluff and nonsense it is; the song ‘Can You Imagine That?’, leading everyone down the drain pipe of the ball and claw tub, only to pop out the other side in a cartoon oceanic landscape, complete with rubber ducky, pirate ship and every assortment of fish. Aside: it is important to recall that during the preliminary stages of the original Mary Poppins, Walt had envisioned something along these lines; the sequence, far too elaborate, and, cut for budgetary reasons, only to resurface after Walt’s death as ‘The Beautiful Briny’ in 1971’s Bedknobs and Broomsticks. But back to Mary Poppins Returns. Michael goes to the bank to see if he can find proof of his shares. The wily Wilkins lies to Michael; then, secretly tears out the ledger page devoted to just such an acknowledgement, burning it in his fireplace. 

Meanwhile, Annabel and John elect to sell their mother’s ‘priceless’ Royal Doulton bowl in the nursery to pay off the debt. Unwilling to part with the bowl, Georgie instead chips its porcelain surface. Jack infers that Mary Poppins can fix the bowl with another fantastical journey. Instead of popping in and out of chalk pavement pictures, as in the original movie, Jack, Mary and the Banks children are now magically teleported to the other side of the bowl’s cartoonish artwork; presumably, to be taken on their own ‘jolly holiday’. This cartoon/live action sequence is Mary Poppins Returns biggest knock-off. We are swept into to an Edwardian England fantasia. In lieu of another carousel ride, fox hunt and pas deux with a gaggle of penguins, we get a trip to the Royal Doulton Music Hall where Mary and Jack perform, ‘The Cover is Not the Book’ (the penguins from the original movie making their brief cameo). Nevertheless, this is a pointless diversion at best. Distracted, Georgie is kidnapped by a cartoon wolf (also voiced by Colin Firth), accompanied by a weasel (also voiced by Jeremy Swift) and badger (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, again). This motley crew have repossessed all of the tangible joys from the Banks’ family home. Transformed from ebullient escapism into a terrorizing and fitful chase, John and Anabel mount a horse-drawn carriage in hot pursuit, rescuing their brother moments before awakening in a cold sweat, but otherwise safe in their own beds, haunted by the ‘nightmare’ collectively shared. Mary feigns ignorance. Hence, her provisions of comfort now ring hollow. After all, she is responsible for creating the nightmare in the first place.  

As to the bowl, yet to be mended, Mary takes the children to her oddball cousin, Topsy, who lives at the end of a decidedly spooky and very bleak alley, in a shop with an entrance fit only for Darby O’Gill’s ‘little people’. Topsy suffers from a curious and self-imposed depression that has caused her entire shop to turn upside down. She laments - in rhyme, of course - how every second Thursday is a curse. Mary, Jack and the children eventually convince her otherwise and the bowl is left in her…um…care. But before everyone departs for home, Topsy informs the children that the bowl, while it may have held a certain sentimental value for their mother, is basically and otherwise worthless. Hence, the sale of it will not save their household from financial ruin. As Michael has rushed off to work without his briefcase, Mary elects, along with the children, to take it to him. Now, John and Anabel hatch yet another reprieve; to make an impassioned plea to Wilkins, whom they inadvertently discover is plotting their family’s demise. Armed with this knowledge, the children narrowly escape being caught by Wilkins and the bank’s solicitors. Outwardly, Wilkins compliments the children in front of Michael, but then secretly cautions them to hold their tongues, lest Michael lose his job.

Momentarily ashamed, Michael angrily orders Mary Poppins to take his children home.  However, en route, Mary and her charges become lost in the fog. Their way is assured when Jack reappears, employing his fellow lamplighters to teach the children how to ‘Trip a Little Light Fantastic’; a spirited gavotte through alleys and byways, arriving home much too late and again incurring Michael’s wrath. However, unlike his father, Michael crumbles before his children, begging their forgiveness. He also informs them of the hopelessness of their situation. At the stroke of midnight, they will be forced to vacate No. 17 Cherry Tree Lane. At this juncture, Jane takes a fancy to Jack and vice versa. As Michael had early thrown away the kite Georgie now clutches, he becomes fascinated by the paper used to mend its tattered remnants; none other than scraps from the Certificate of Shares required to save the family from financial ruin. With only minutes to spare, Jack and his lamplighters scale Big Ben, resetting the time. Wilkins orders the bank’s front doors locked to bar Michael’s entry. However, Frye, having had quite enough of his boss’ treacheries, instead allows Michael, Jane and the children to pass.

The family bursts into Wilkins office; Michael, attempting to piece together the Certificate. Alas, he is unable to locate the vital piece with all the signatures. Wilkins suggests that without this shred the document is null and void.  However, Mr. Dawes Jr., Wilkins' uncle and former chief executive officer, arrives with renewed vigor to oust his nephew from power. Dawes also explains how Michael and Jane’s father invested the young boy’s tuppence 25 years ago; the annuity since ballooned with time and interest – enough to cover the loan and provide the family with a modest income besides.  Overjoyed, and with their faith in the future restored, the Banks go to the park to celebrate. They purchase balloons that cause them, and everyone else, to take literal flight into the skies high above London; the awkward, ‘Nowhere To Go But Up’ vainly unable to rebottle the elixir of the Sherman brothers’ ‘Let’s Go Fly a Kite’ from the original movie. Mary Poppins realizes she has once more outlived her usefulness. There are presumably other families in need of her particular brand of outrageous philanthropy. And so, again, she departs into the clouds, leaving the Banks’ family with their head in the clouds – literally – but otherwise on very solid ground for the future, with Jane, presumably, to pursue a romantic involvement with Jack. 

Walt Disney had planned a sequel to Mary Poppins as far back as the original movie’s premiere. Alas, Walt’s failing health and author, P.L. Travers absolute contempt for his Oscar-winning efforts precluded freeing up the rights to her beloved enchantress/nanny again. In the late 1980’s, Jeffrey Katzenberg, newly appointed as chairman and keeper of Walt’s flame, along with the company’s vice-president of live-action features, Martin Kaplan, gingerly approached Travers with another pitch for a sequel. Again, they were rebuked by the caustic authoress. Unable to broker a deal, Disney Inc. simply lost interest and moved on. In viewing Mary Poppins Returns, it is difficult to imagine Travers - who died in 1996 - would have been more pleased with the results on this second trip to the wellspring. The sequel veers even further off the mark from Poppins’ literary franchise. Whether out of a sense of magnanimity or perhaps, simply to spare our noses the faint whiff of formaldehyde, Julie Andrews elected to abstain from a cameo appearance. Shot entirely in England, with principle sets built at Shepperton Studios, the centerpiece of this reboot – as in the original – is an animated/live action sequence, achieved with some very ambitious hand-drawn animation, overseen by character designers, James Woods and James Baxter; this time, completed digitally under the supervision of Jim Capobianco and Ken Duncan. Pencil drawings from a collaborative effort made by 70 artists have been digitally scanned, ‘inked and painted.’ Yet, the only memorable characters to emerge here are the penguins from the first movie. Although nominated for 3 minor Oscars, it won nothing, and for good reason.  It is hardly an instant classic or valiant successor to Walt’s inspired ’64 masterwork? ‘A’ for effort, I supposed, but barely ‘C+’ for the results. Regrets.

Mary Poppins Returns' 4K Blu-ray release is, predictably, perfect. Interestingly, in motion, only minor differences are noted between this Ultra-Hi-def transfer and its standard Blu-ray (also included) – the differences, marginal improvements to color density, overall image sharpness and clarity. Mary Poppins Returns was shot digitally and with HDR color enhancements, we get a gorgeous, subtle-nuanced rendering that will surely please. For those not yet upgraded to 4K, the standard Blu-ray will suffice.  Color saturation is solid. Contrast is picture perfect.  The animated sequence shows off its regal pastels with modestly amplified color depth.  Like the image, the differences between the Dolby Atmos in 4K and the Blu-ray’s 7.1 DTS are negligible, with Atmos, narrowing edging out the competition, though fairly underwhelming for those anticipating some magnificent outbursts of sonic sparkle and pop. Extras include a deleted song, a ‘making of’ featurette, brief introduction, and, several featurettes dealing with various aspects of the creative process. A lot of this is junket material at best, prone to overlapping info and put together merely to fatten the content, rather than add girth and dimension to the creative aegis of the picture-making process. The most heartfelt of these brief featurettes is devoted to Dick Van Dyke’s return to the screen, the star, reminiscing about the original movie and his participation in the sequel. Finally, there are bloopers and a theatrical trailer to get through. In one of Disney Inc.’s most inarticulate decisions (one of many in recent years), the studio has elected to leave off Rob Marshall’s audio commentary, recalling it as a ‘digital only’ exclusive. Thanks, Mickey. But why not let your consumer fan base decide how they watch and enjoy your movies? Oh, right. It’s Disney. Control freaks, pushing digital all the way. Heigh-ho. Heigh-ho. It’s off to the ethernet we go! Bottom line: Mary Poppins Returns left me flat. The 4K is a great disc from a quality stand point. But I am not into pretty pictures in lieu of mediocre plots.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

5

EXTRAS

3.5