For a bit, Saving Mr. Banks offers a look at artistic integrity in battle with the Hollywood machine. Around 1961, P.L. Travers (Emma Thompson), author of the beloved Mary Poppins, begins to see her income dwindle. The books have stopped selling, she has not written another installment, and the royalties have ceased. Here, she is faced with selling the rights to Mary Poppins to Walt Disney (Tom Hanks), who, twenty year prior, made a promise to his daughters to bring the mystical nanny to the big screen.
Reluctantly, but under the strong encouragement of her agent, Travers meets with Disney in person – after rejecting his mailed and telegrammed advances for the better part of two decades – where she adamantly protests Poppins “cavorting and twinkling” up on the screen, as this would detract from the character’s essence and overall integrity, making her one of Disney’s “silly little cartoons.” There’s certainly something to admire about the author’s refusal to compromise her work and to criticize each proposed change that the writers Robert and Richard Sherman try to make (BJ Novak, Jason Schwartzman).
While Travers criticizes and battles with the writers and Disney, we see through flashbacks why Mary Poppins is so precious to Travers. Of her two parents, Travers – born Helen Goff – idolized her father, Travers Goff, a man whose penchant for alcohol and dislike of socially constructed adulthood created a precarious social standing and many financial hardships for him and his family. As we meet the Goffs in 1907, Travers (Colin Farrell) has been fired from another bank and is taking his family to the end of the railroad line in Queensland, Australia.
Bit by bit, we see the importance of an unadulterated Poppins and the way in which P.L. Travers has used her novel to save the father that she loved and preserve him as something much more than a penniless alcoholic.
Saving Mr. Banks is replete with wonderful performances. Characteristically, Thompson and Hanks are a joy to watch on screen. The film is both darkly and whimsically funny and, at times, it seems to have a sense of humor about Walt Disney’s love of marketing synergy – something portrayed as oversaturation.
However, the gravity given to the battle over artistic integrity in the first half of the film gives way to what feels like an advertisement for Disneyland. As P.L. Travers becomes increasingly more uncompromising and critical, Disney must pull out all the stops and…bring her to Disneyland, the “most magical place on earth.” Ostensibly, this is fine. We get to see Disney as a man while he walks through his park with Travers. He says hello to his many child and adult guests who roam the park. He signs autographs, and he rides on the carousel. In short, he is not the untouchable, unapproachable Hollywood machinist. At the same time, Travers simple ride on a carousel seems to completely change her tone that following day, as she begins singing and dancing with the Shermans to their new song.
In short, Disneyland can make anyone happy, and all we need to find happiness and the warm memories of our childhood is to pay for admission.
Granted, there is one small conflict after this, but it’s rather quickly resolved when she and Disney meet again, and he tells her a story from his childhood – and how Disneyland and his motion pictures help reshape those memories. And perhaps, this is the true story of the creation of Mary Poppins. Perhaps all Travers needed was a visit to Disneyland, but there’s something a bit too fairy-talish here, something that conveniently makes the ugly witch beautiful, tames the hardened prince or princess, and saves the world with love at the very end.
