Written by Michael Claxton
One night during the 1940s, Walt Disney heard his daughters laughing over a book. Shortly afterward, he noticed his wife chuckling about it, too. When he asked what was so funny, he discovered “Mary Poppins,” written by P. L. Travers. It would eventually lead to what Neal Gabler calls “his greatest cinematic triumph since ‘Snow White.’”
Most everyone knows the story of the magical nanny who comes to the rescue at Number 17, Cherry Tree Lane. Mr. Banks runs a tight ship at home, much like his day job at a venerable London bank, while his wife (in the film) is away leading protests for women’s suffrage. Their mischievous children regularly frighten off governesses. That is until Mary Poppins drops in. Literally from the sky she flies with her umbrella.
The new nanny immediately sets things right with a “spoonful of sugar” and some whimsical magic. She brings both love and fun back to the household, taking Jane and Michael on fantastic adventures, all with the help of a cockney chimney sweep named Bert. Meanwhile, in the film and musical versions, Mr. Banks learns to be a more present, spontaneous father. His broken family is healed, and they all head out to the park to fly kites.
Mary Poppins’ world is full of eccentrics. In the novel and film, Uncle Albert hits the ceiling when he laughs. In the book and musical, Mrs. Corry runs a shop selling gingerbread and conversations and is so old that she remembers Alexander “when he weren’t so great.” In all three versions, Admiral Boom keeps time with artillery. (He’s based on a real naval officer in London who built a quarterdeck on his roof and fired a cannon to mark royal birthdays, much to the delight of the neighbors.)
It took Disney 20 years to acquire the movie rights. Pamela Travers hated Disney’s style and dreaded what he might do to her beloved characters. But she also knew the value of her brand and insisted on $750,000, plus five percent of the profits — grudgingly backing off her demand that the film contain neither songs nor animation. Their complex back and forth is dramatized in the 2013 movie “Saving Mr. Banks.”
Disney hired Julie Andrews, a newcomer fresh off her Broadway success as the lead in “My Fair Lady.” She had wanted the film role of Eliza Doolittle, but it went to the better-known Audrey Hepburn. Dick Van Dyke ultimately landed the part of Bert, even though Disney first auditioned Cary Grant. Van Dyke confessed later that he had “the worst cockney accent in history,” but audiences loved him, and he dazzled them half a century later when — at 92 — he danced atop his desk in “Mary Poppins Returns.” Now 97, both he and Andrews (88) are delightfully still with us, as is Glynis Johns, who played Mrs. Banks. She just turned 100.
Disney knew he was onto gold. “I think it’s going to be one of our best,” he wrote to his sister, and the studio seemed to return to the gleeful days of old, with Disney super involved and bubbling with new suggestions. It was his idea, for example, to have animated penguins dancing in the park, much to Mrs. Travers’ annoyance. (At the premiere, she still insisted that “the cartoons had to go.” He said, “Pamela, the ship has sailed.”) Disney was also smart enough to hire Bob and Richard Sherman to write the music. The film would gross $50 million worldwide and win five Academy Awards, including two for the Sherman brothers and one for Julie Andrews. Disney didn’t win Best Picture, yet his 23 career Oscars are still an unbeatable record.
But when the film came out in 1964, Disney was ill. Friends and family noticed he was heavier, walking slower and coughing more. Despite his lung cancer, he pressed on with work, checking storyboards for “The Jungle Book” and making plans for a new theme park called Epcot.
During his final year, he would visit often with the Sherman brothers in his office. At some point, he would always say, “Play it!” The songwriters knew he meant “Feed the Birds,” the anthem of the Bird Lady who sells crumbs at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Every time he listened to the song, the dying man would gaze out the window and weep.
A friend recently told me that when Disney died in 1966, the kids at his school lowered the flag at half-staff. The rest of the world mourned, too.
As you enjoy Harding’s “spit-spot” production this weekend, be sure to salute the wonderfully talented people — then and now — who have brought “Mary Poppins” to life. It’s been a thrill to sail along with this amazing cast. And happy 100th anniversary, Mr. Disney.
