"I like to think it was also a reminder that, since “Mary Poppins” takes place in 1910, the odds were that within six years Bert will be lying dead in a trench in France. (Michael, luckily, will probably just miss it.)"
That is a GREAT observation. When I saw this at age 6, I adored it and promised that some day I would go to London where everyone dances and dresses in pearly queen outfits and struts around happily and are probably nice to strangers from America. And I got to go at last in 1990, and...I think I mistook it for places where people will talk to you, such as Paris and NYC and to some extent SF. Ended up almost gibbering with loneliness. It's what I deserved for not going to Manchester instead.
One year I was churning through Oscar screeners for the award season, and I had more than a year's worth of meretricious show-biz bios in a stack next to the TV. One was this thing with Uncle Walt (Tom Hanks) trying to talk P. T. Travers (Emma Thompson) into selling the rights to Mary Poppins. You could tell it was the Disney version of history, and I was looking away at something more interesting on the coffee table, right at the exact moment when B. J. Novaks (as one of the Sherman Bros) demos away with "Come feed the little birds, show them you care". And I just went BAW! like Nancy in the funny papers. I ugly-cried as only a 60 something man can! It was revolting! Admittedly I've had pet birds for years, so I was easily triggered. But I could just see the spectre of Uncle Walt saying, "Who is my little catamite, still after all these years! Who is he? Eh?"
Turns out that's Jane Darwell in her last role as the bird-feeding lady. She played Ma Joad in The Grapes of Wrath, and Walt loved her, which is hard to square with his horrible politics.
Oh, Gina. I loved this essay, most especially because I just watched Mary Poppins over Thanksgiving for the first time in . . . well . . . a lot of years. I do remember when it first came out: it was the first movie I remember seeing, in fact. And I loved it, but so much went over my head in 1964.
This time, though, I had the exact same impressions that you did: so anti-capitalist! so feminist! Disney really snuck a few things in under the cover of those snappy tunes. Much to chew on.
I had new admiration for it, as much as Disney today represents another capitalist giant (although, they have been clinging to a queer-positive message in the face of DeSantis's onslaughts).
In any event, thank you. And enjoy your DIY tree. You were raised right and should enjoy it without hesitancy.
At first I thought Bert's sweeping mechanism in the first picture was a very depressing palm tree. Loved this post. Coincidentally, I spent a serious moment today contemplating the appropriateness of the word "heralding" in my MS. I guess it's that time of year. Tangentially, did you know angels' particularly delicate horns are called añafils?
"I like to think it was also a reminder that, since “Mary Poppins” takes place in 1910, the odds were that within six years Bert will be lying dead in a trench in France. (Michael, luckily, will probably just miss it.)"
That is a GREAT observation. When I saw this at age 6, I adored it and promised that some day I would go to London where everyone dances and dresses in pearly queen outfits and struts around happily and are probably nice to strangers from America. And I got to go at last in 1990, and...I think I mistook it for places where people will talk to you, such as Paris and NYC and to some extent SF. Ended up almost gibbering with loneliness. It's what I deserved for not going to Manchester instead.
One year I was churning through Oscar screeners for the award season, and I had more than a year's worth of meretricious show-biz bios in a stack next to the TV. One was this thing with Uncle Walt (Tom Hanks) trying to talk P. T. Travers (Emma Thompson) into selling the rights to Mary Poppins. You could tell it was the Disney version of history, and I was looking away at something more interesting on the coffee table, right at the exact moment when B. J. Novaks (as one of the Sherman Bros) demos away with "Come feed the little birds, show them you care". And I just went BAW! like Nancy in the funny papers. I ugly-cried as only a 60 something man can! It was revolting! Admittedly I've had pet birds for years, so I was easily triggered. But I could just see the spectre of Uncle Walt saying, "Who is my little catamite, still after all these years! Who is he? Eh?"
Turns out that's Jane Darwell in her last role as the bird-feeding lady. She played Ma Joad in The Grapes of Wrath, and Walt loved her, which is hard to square with his horrible politics.
Also, for the real Disney of today watch "The Florida Project."
That's for certain! Glad Sean Baker is atop the world where he belongs--Anora is so brilliant.
Oh, Gina. I loved this essay, most especially because I just watched Mary Poppins over Thanksgiving for the first time in . . . well . . . a lot of years. I do remember when it first came out: it was the first movie I remember seeing, in fact. And I loved it, but so much went over my head in 1964.
This time, though, I had the exact same impressions that you did: so anti-capitalist! so feminist! Disney really snuck a few things in under the cover of those snappy tunes. Much to chew on.
I had new admiration for it, as much as Disney today represents another capitalist giant (although, they have been clinging to a queer-positive message in the face of DeSantis's onslaughts).
In any event, thank you. And enjoy your DIY tree. You were raised right and should enjoy it without hesitancy.
I have a constructed-Christmas-Tree Polaroid from the 1980s, but I won't share it because I am in it (as are you)
At first I thought Bert's sweeping mechanism in the first picture was a very depressing palm tree. Loved this post. Coincidentally, I spent a serious moment today contemplating the appropriateness of the word "heralding" in my MS. I guess it's that time of year. Tangentially, did you know angels' particularly delicate horns are called añafils?
Where are the painted cookie cutters?