MARY POPPINS

BUENA VISTA, 1964 | COLOR (TECHNICOLOR), 139 MINUTES

DIRECTOR: ROBERT STEVENSON PRODUCER: WALT DISNEY SCREENPLAY: BILL WALSH AND DON DAGRADI, BASED ON THE STORIES BY P. L. TRAVERS SONGS: RICHARD M. SHERMAN AND ROBERT B. SHERMAN CHOREOGRAPHERS: MARC BREAUX AND DEE DEE WOOD STARRING: JULIE ANDREWS (MARY POPPINS), DICK VAN DYKE (BERT/MR. DAWES SR.), DAVID TOMLINSON (GEORGE BANKS), GLYNIS JOHNS (WINIFRED BANKS), KAREN DOTRICE (JANE BANKS), MATTHEW GARBER (MICHAEL BANKS), ED WYNN (UNCLE ALBERT), HERMIONE BADDELEY AND RETA SHAW (DOMESTICS), ELSA LANCHESTER (KATIE NANNA), JANE DARWELL (THE BIRD WOMAN)

A nanny with unusual talents helps bring a London family closer together.

There’s magic here, and if you saw it as a child, you’ve never forgotten it, or forgotten her. This wondrous combination of talent and technique is a dazzling introduction to a new star, and one of the best original musicals ever made.

Long before the words “brand” and “franchise” came into (over)use when discussing films, Mary Poppins cut to the essence of everything good bearing the name Walt Disney. Disney had been finding ways to set film to music since Steamboat Willie, in 1928, and Mary Poppins was the happy culmination of both his love affair with music and his drive to make live-action movies that were as special as his cartoons. He had long wanted to film the P. L. Travers stories of the magical, no-nonsense nanny, but Travers herself was leery of what might happen if her Poppins got the Disney treatment. (She finally said yes and, true to form, later regretted that she had.) Meanwhile, in 1961, the studio had a go at its first live-action musical fantasy, and the best thing about Babes in Toyland was that it taught everyone at Disney what not to do. In casting, writing, design, musical presentation, special effects, and sheer panache, Mary Poppins corrected all the mistakes Toyland had made. It also quickly became the highest-earning Disney film up to that time.

A movie as involved and busy as this could have gone hopelessly awry: a shaky or cloying tone, unsuitable songs, an overdose of special effects, too much Disney icing atop an insufficient cake. In avoiding those pitfalls, it manages to soar. For that, great credit must go to three names, one Andrews and two Shermans. Since she had been denied the chance to make her film debut in My Fair Lady, Poppins became, for Julie Andrews, the greatest consolation prize in film history. (That truly deserved Best Actress Oscar didn’t hurt, either.) Without hitting any sort of wrong note, Andrews dominates and triumphs on film precisely as Poppins does in the Banks home: through sensibly and generously knowing exactly what she’s doing at all times. When she’s in charge, none of it—the penguin waiters or tea parties on the ceiling or prancing chimney sweeps—seems either superfluous or impossible, and everyone in front of and behind the camera seems inspired. This becomes especially true with the words and music of the Sherman brothers, which suit the characters and situations effortlessly. Propelling the story with ease, they are also able to take the time for such marvelous detours as “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” Would the songs seem the same, or sound so right, without Andrews? Hardly. Her clear tone and warm phrasing makes them seem, as Mary would say, practically perfect, and the tender of heart can be alerted that they may wipe away one small tear during “Feed the Birds.”

“Step in Time”: Dick Van Dyke