Mary Poppins (1964) and Mary Poppins Returns (2018)

After dozens of viewings with my young daughters, I still come to the same conclusion: Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke are exceptional both in musicianship and laser point expression, the knack for lyrical metaphor is astounding, and the grownup sense of humor sneaks in seamlessly with the kiddo magic.

The gigantic soundstage that envelops Cherry Tree Lane, the Banks’ household, and the chimney tops overlooking them is something out of a dream. The Sherman Brothers throw down hook after hook, spiritually embedding each song into our souls.

It’s just that dang animated sequence in the middle…

I know it was groundbreaking in its time, but it is dreadfully long, and in P.L. Travers’s words, “too silly for its own good.” (Not to mention the following Uncle Albert laughing scene, which comes off as an exercise in enduring a little bit of hell.)

What melts the heart the most is the very inspiration behind P.L. Travers’s story and the reason they made Saving Mr. Banks (2013) in the first place—the redemption of Mr. Banks, remarkably played by David Tomlinson with sternness and endearment only a camera lens can capture. Backed by some of the most elaborate Disney orchestrations ever composed, his transformation with the assistance of a non-judgmental Poppins and Bert makes for a moving experience, albeit 30 minutes too long.

Attention spans must have set records in ‘64 because this Gen-Xer can barely get to the end in one sitting with his Gen-Aphas.

Before we had kids, my wife took me on a trip to the Pacific Northwest to celebrate my fortieth. Along with a wonderful visit to the only Blockbuster Video in the world in Bend, Oregon, we saw Mary Poppins Returns at the famous McMenamins Bagdad Theater in Portland. Where the theater provided some nostalgic charm, we found the Disney cash grab sequel to be the opposite of charming. I wrote in my little Letterboxd entry:

I know, I know: “Nothing will capture the old magic and appeal of the original.” So, then, why was this made? What was the target audience? Nostalgia graspers like me? Well, then it’s disappointing: not one (ONE!) memorable song to hum on your way home. Were today’s kiddos the target audience? If so, then all references to the original are moot because what kids watch and appreciate the original today?

That last sentence cracks me up. What little did I know that, yes, kids still watch the classics, and yes, our two daughters watch and appreciate the original every time.

And that brings me to my point: After a recent viewing of the sequel, it feels more unnecessary than it did before. Emily Blunt’s portrayal comes off unapproachable, snobbish, and darker in vocal and persona tone. It’s more a bummer than disappointing.

And as I mentioned in my Letterboxd entry in 2018, there is no melody to be found, just orchestral flourish. Heaven forbid Marc Shaiman composes a few nods to motifs that worked in ‘64.

And, my goodness, the more I hear Lin-Manuel Miranda “sing,” the more “don’t quit your day job” makes sense. Why didn’t he compose the songs and score?

Most remarkable is how bored my girls were through all the CGI sequences, bank lone obsession, and lack of joy overall.

This Mary Poppins redux couldn’t fly off with her umbrella any sooner.

What did you think of the sequel? When was the last time you saw the original?

Thank you for reading!

Reely Bernie