Mary Poppins alights in the London StageA review of the new theaterical musical—with
spoilersThursday, April 7, 2005
by Michael Sandstrom, contributing writer“We're so there!” is what we said upon hearing that
the stage show was to finally be produced. It was an irresistible opportunity
for us—as two who love live theater and Walt Disney's lands respectively—to
bring those two worlds together so completely. We decided to spend our
holidays on a trip to London to see Mary Poppins; along with several
other West–end shows, and of course, the rest of that exciting city. To report completely, I must to tell you that our first show was seeing
Nathan Lane in The Producers who was a marvel—my face hurt.
It was going to be difficult for any production to keep up that pace of
entertainment. OK, so my seats weren't the best for Mary Poppins either; being
the hottest new show in town and us on a very tight schedule, we had to
sit way up several balconies (the English call these “Grand Circle”
seats, while the actual good seats are referred to as “stalls”).
Right, well rushing off to the merchandise counter—with nary a thing
to buy. No mugs (a stage show staple), or umbrellas, or even a cast recording,
just T–shirts, one pin, and two versions of the program. We got what
we could, and some wee gifts for the diehards back home. The big program
includes a build–it–yourself 17 Cherry Tree Lane, and all the
requisite glorious photos; the smaller version has actual text about the
show and cast. The production begins with a song from chimney–sweep Bert (played
by Gavin Lee) and we are soon introduced to the Banks' home, where mayhem
and unhappiness are already in place. The house set has a roof, which
rises to reveal the interior. The story follows familiar lines for the
first few segments, although “Jolly Holiday” come up quite soon
and features a different sort of magical day in the park. Admiral Boom
(Ian Burford) is unrecognizably present, and not up to any of his antics
from the film. Mrs. Banks (Linzi Hateley) is not a suffragette in this
play version and Mr. Banks (David Haig) is far more upset about his future.
The children have already run away. Tailor–made nanny Mary Poppins (Laura Michelle Kelly) flies into
these lives and helps out with a haughty dose of sugar. This Mary is very
sure of herself. Yes, when she unpacks her bag upstairs in the nursery,
it is full of impossible items, including a bed, which stands by itself.
These effects were technically well done, if not exactly breathtakingly
groundbreaking—at least from our steep angle. The “Spoonful
of Sugar” scene happens in the kitchen rather than the bedroom and
has rather awkward effects unconvincingly played out by a male member
of the household staff. Strangely, the lesson taught by the song in the
film is completely ignored. When the “Feed the Birds” sequence came up in the first third
of the show, I was surprised—or rather getting baffled about some
of the logic the show was, ah, following. This sequence has a very different
tone in the film too, but this was odd—then the bird effect was very
cheesy—just the slightest projections. Well, maybe it's just hypercritical me who was finding this underwhelming
so far; but I couldn't help but notice the audience surrounding me was
incredibly restless; I mean stretching and yawning, kids' heads flopping
on parents shoulders, everyone shifting in their seats—restless.
I looked at my companion and he just shrugged. Finally, after realizing there is never going to be an Uncle Albert tea
party on the ceiling scene, and thinking there may never be an intermission;
the show at last took on some strangely missing “life” during
the over–the–top and totally senseless “Supercalifagilisticexpialidocious”
number. Don't ask how this fit in to the story, or who all those people
singing were; just enjoy the stomping and colors (ooops, all that stomping
keeps reminding me of several other tacky shows of the past 10 years—oh
well. The colors are very nice indeed). Then we are suddenly back in the children's room—and the show totally
lost me. Despite a marvelous day at the fair, the kids are being brats,
and Mary marches off with a warning to them to mind their “temper
temper”s. Rather than learning anything from Ms. Poppins, she has
left them alone with their toys as punishment—which then come to
life in a nightmare of recrimination for toy abuse. Huge oversized toys
dance around and terrorize the kids. Mary abandons them for this and is
gone as the second act begins. Logic is also long gone, as we are introduced to the nasty old lady who
was supposed to have been Mr. Banks' debilitating nanny 40 years earlier.
She is now the replacement nanny to fix all these problems that Mary caused/never
solved. Within minutes of entering the house, she whips out the cod–liver
oil and a giant spoon to feed it to the kids with—singing all about
“Brimstone and Treacle” (bothering me a bit since at the first
mention of this woman, she was called “Miss Andrews”—oh,
a clever homage, thinks I, until seeing that this woman is correctly called
“Miss Andrew” and is a monster). Mary decides to fly in again
on the tail of a kite one day and refuses to explain why she went away.
She also takes it upon herself to rid the Banks' of the old nanny, and
actually, ah, “dispenses” with the lady's pet bird before her.
This is certainly not the Mary Poppins I knew, who befriended little birds
and sang along with them; nor did she abandon her charges. (The woman
and child sitting next to me, along with several others in our section,
did abandon the whole show and had not returned from the intermission). As “Steps In Time” started, it just felt as though we had been
rushed through the hit list and had to include this one, too. By the time
“Steps” was done, so was any resemblance to a show Walt Disney
would have known. All the rules of the world we have been in for two hours
are forgotten as dancers and the Banks' family collided inside their house
and all over the stage. The budding finale features a new and upbeat number,
but what it has to do with anything is beyond me. Sadly, the family is
not brought back together over kite flying (as indeed it is Bert who enjoys
this time with the kids much earlier). The show then hits “replay”
as we are treated to a reprise of many of the songs we've heard. Yes, at the very end Mary flies out over the orchestra up to the ceiling,
in a moment so overplayed and anticipated it was bound to disappoint in
its obviousness. (the effect was first used exactly 100 years earlier
that week, just blocks away, in Peter Pan). It's not that it was an awful show; I'm glad to have seen it, and those
that remained in the audience cheered long and loudly at the close. But
it immediately felt like a confused and contrived piece of “committeEtainment”
to each of us. Looking at the long history of this production, it would seem that the
producing powers of Disney and Mackintosh also collided and each got limited
say over certain areas, not resulting in a cohesive whole. With the two
producers, two directors (Richard Eyre—Tony award winner for Carousel
in Lincoln Center, and Matthew Bourne—Tony winning creator of
Swan Lake), two choreographers (Mr. Bourne and Olivier Award–winner
Stephen Mear), as well as two sets of songwriters (the original Sherman
Brothers, and new material by George Stiles and Anthony Drewe), there
is lacking a single vision. The performers were all highly talented, adequately acting and completely
forgettable. The kids are literally interchangeable with the days of the
week (labor laws, of course). Bert was strong, but could be cast with
anyone; same with Banks' houseful. Mary was performed by Britain's new
stage star of My Fair lady and Beauty and the Beast. Though
able to belt out the songs pleasantly, she seemed wooden and detached
at all times—well beyond what is called for in character. I thought
the pictures in the program of her were very nice, but they were her only
facial expressions—a manga–style actor as it turns out. (and
recent Olivier Award winner for the role). In total—besides not completely regretting seeing this, it did absolutely
give me a far richer appreciation for Walt Disney's film. Often called
his cinematic masterpiece, I had not fully appreciated that its greatest
strength is its story structure! There are so many obvious delights to
the film it is easy to overlook the nuanced tales being told—and
the stage play fails here badly enough to bring it to attention. All the
participants of the film contribute to a satisfying tale of families finding
their way together, and the angels who come into our lives to guide them
in mysterious ways. For all its regimented grandiose spectacle, the show
sadly dispenses with too much detail of these relationships and actually
contradicts them at times, to successfully glow as the film still does
after 40 years. There's no doubt that the play is—and will be—a huge hit…
and I can always hope they will adapt it a bit before it comes to Broadway
(the elements are all there), but those sleeping kids and we agreed, it
was a bit too “practical” and not nearly “perfect”.
Text–message to the mates: “Messy Ploppins.”
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