Saving Mr. Banks (2013) - full transcript

When Walt Disney's daughters begged him to make a movie of their favorite book, P.L. Travers' Mary Poppins (1964), he made them a promise - one that he didn't realize would take 20 years to keep. In his quest to obtain the rights, Walt comes up against a curmudgeonly, uncompromising writer who has absolutely no intention of letting her beloved magical nanny get mauled by the Hollywood machine. But, as the books stop selling and money grows short, Travers reluctantly agrees to go to Los Angeles to hear Disney's plans for the adaptation. For those two short weeks in 1961, Walt Disney pulls out all the stops. Armed with imaginative storyboards and chirpy songs from the talented Sherman brothers, Walt launches an all-out onslaught on P.L. Travers, but the prickly author doesn't budge. He soon begins to watch helplessly as Travers becomes increasingly immovable and the rights begin to move further away from his grasp. It is only when he reaches into his own childhood that Walt discovers the truth about the ghosts that haunt her, and together they set Mary Poppins free to ultimately make one of the most endearing films in cinematic history.

(CHIM CHIM CHER-EE MELODY PLAYING)

(WIND WHISTLING)

TRAVERS: Wind's in the east,

mist coming in,

like something is brewing,

about to begin.

Can't put my finger

on what lies in store,

but I feel what's to happen

all happened before.

(DOORBELL RINGING)



(CLOCK TICKING)

(INHALES)

(DOORBELL CONTINUES RINGING)

- Mr. Russell.
- Mrs. Travers.

Like pink clouds on sticks.

Excuse me?

The Cherry Blossom. I was trying
to think of what it looks like.

The car should be here by now.

May I use the phone?

I canceled it.

You...

What?

Pamela?

"Mrs. Travers."



Mrs. Travers,

why would you cancel the car?

I Shan't be going.

(SIGHS) We've been through this.

I've changed my mind.

You made an agreement.

You understand?
A verbal agreement.

Why in the world are you speaking
to me as if I were a neonate?

- He's going to...
- What?

What is he going to do? Sue?

(CHUCKLES) He's very welcome to
every Penny I don't possess.

Look.

I've represented you
for a long time.

I like to think of you as a friend.

- (SCOFFS)
- Yes, I like to think it.

Believe me,
I know it's not reciprocated.

I would never suggest anything
that would 'cause you anguish,

but there's no more money, Pamela.

"Mrs. Travers."

Simply no more.

Sales have dried up,
no more royalties.

You refuse to write
further books, so...

(SCOFFS)
Do you understand? I...

I'm frightened you don't
understand what that means.

I know what he's going to do to her.
She'll be cavorting and twinkling,

and careening towards a happy
ending like a kamikaze!

We've been trying to do
this deal for 20 years.

He's agreed to both
your stipulations.

No animation, script approval.

Use her to pay my bills?

If I believed in a hell, I'd be
sitting in it's waiting room.

Script approval!

He's never granted anything
like that before!

I don't know what else to do!

(SIGHS)

(SCOFFS)

- Where's Polly?
- I fired her.

It's just as well.

It seems I can't afford
her anymore, anyway.

You don't know what
she means to me.

Polly?

Of course not Polly!

Sake!

Los Angeles.

You only have to
go and work there for two weeks.

Collaborate.

You haven't signed
over the rights yet.

Yet?

You must make this work,
Mrs. Travers.

- Oh, I must, must I?
- You need the money!

- I don't want to see you go broke.
- Stop saying money!

It's a filthy, disgusting word!

I'm picking up the phone now,
Mrs. Travers.

(STAMMERS) I have final say.

You do.

I have final say.

And if I don't like what
they're doing to her...

Then you don't sign the papers.

He can't make the film
unless you grant the rights.

It's an exploratory trip.

What do you say?

I want to keep my house.

(TRAVERS CLEARS THROAT)

Excuse me, ma'am.

Have you seen my daughter?

I was quite sure I left her
around here somewhere.

Her name is Helen.

No, uh... "Shirley."

Uh, no... Um...

Huh.

Good Lord, I've quite forgotten.

Could it be "Prunella"?

No.

"Pamela"?

No, no, no, no.

I'm sure I have a
special name for her.

"Ginty"!

Why, thank you, ma'am!

"Ginty" it is, of course. Yeah.

Now, have you seen her?

It's me.

(GIGGLES)

Gosh, so it is.

Thank goodness for that.

Oh, I was positive I was going
to be beheaded for losing.

Her Highness,

The Royal Princess
Ginty McFeatherfluffy!

Don't lose me.

Never.

I promise.

I'll never lose you.

You ready? Are you sure?

(BELL TOLLING)

All right, the adventure's
about to begin. Come on.

Up! (GRUNTS)

There we go.

(MIMICS HORSE NEIGHING)

Can I help you?

I'm perfectly capable, thank you.

They've used all the space.
So greedy.

I'll take it, madam.
I can put it up in front.

I don't want it up in front.
I would like it here

in the corresponding holding
area for my assigned seat.

The flight's closing
in just a few moments, madam.

- I'll have to take it.
- Ah, ah, ah!

You can move mine instead.
It's the gray one.

Thank you.

Thank you.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Will the child be a nuisance?

It's an 11-hour flight.

(STAMMERS) I don't...

Jolly good.

(EXHALES)

I hope we crash.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

MARGARET: Where's the carriage?

Carriage? Who needs a carriage?

But, darling, we have so many...

A leisurely stroll is a gift,
darling! It's a gift!

Now, Biddy, are you staying?

- Mmm-mmm.
- You're coming with us?

- Mmm-hmm.
- Excellent!

All right.

(SIGHS) Thank you so much.

For everything.

- Thank you, miss.
- TRAVERS: All right.

Hurry up, everyone.
We mustn't be late for the train.

(BABY CRYING)

All aboard! Everybody ready?

Yes.

See you soon, Katie Nanna.

Take care, love.

All right. Everybody ready?

(EXHALES) Walking bus!

- Left, right, left, right...
- Miss!

- Miss!
- Oh.

(DOG BARKING)

Thank you.

TRAVERS: Left!

Left, right, left.

And one, two, three.

New town, new job,
new bank, new life!

Come on, my little ducklings!

(BIDDY GIGGLING)

Right, left!

Come on! Come along! Come along!

(BARKING)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

- (HORN HONKS)
- Halt!

(TRAIN BELL RINGING)

"Allora."

Ginty. Come on, my love.

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

- (BELL DINGS)
- Mmm...

PILOT OVER PA:
Ladies and gentlemen,

we are beginning our descent
into Los Angeles.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Oh, he does, does he?

Travers? P.L. Travers?

- "Mrs."
- (CHUCKLES) Okay.

Well, welcome, Mrs. P.L. Travers.

Welcome to the City of Angels.

Let me take those for you.

- I'm perfectly capable...
- Come.

Oh, never mind.

The sun came out
to say hello just to you.

- Don't be preposterous.
- (CHUCKLES)

It smells, like...

- Jasmine.
- Chlorine and sweat. Ugh!

It's dreadful.

Ugh!

(SNIFFS)

(GLASS BOTTLES CLINKING)

Absurd.

Are you all right back there,
Mrs. P.L. Travers?

It's not "Mrs. P.L."

It's just "Mrs."

(GROANS)

It's so hot.

Oh. No problemo!

No problemo.

We got a brand new
air conditioning system, Mrs.

- Yeah.
- (AIR CONDITIONING WHIRRING)

Just about make you feel like

you're in good old
Eng-er-land again! (CHUCKLES)

I tell you, the things they
can put in cars these days.

Gosh almight...

No problemo.

And here we are, ma'am.

(PORTER UNLOCKING DOOR)

Thank you.

Ma'am?

Would you like me
to unpack for you, ma'am?

Young man, if it is your ambition
to handle ladies' garments,

may I suggest you take
employment in a launderette.

Odd.

Odd, Odd.

Oh, dear.

For heaven's sake.

What on earth is...

How...

What on...

No, no, no. This will never do.

Absolutely no pears.

No pears.

(ALL PANTING)

(TRAVERS EXHALES)

- A palace.
- (CHICKENS CLUCKING)

Complete with mighty steed.

- GINTY: And chickens.
- (TRAVERS CHUCKLES)

Oh, my.

Oh, we'll make beautiful
memories here, my Angel.

Come on.

- All right?
- Mmm.

Girls. Come on.

In this house,
you get to share a room!

(SIGHS) Good riddance.

Now...

I'll take care of this.

How old do they think I am?

Five years old, or something.

Poor A.A. Milne.

Ghastly business.

Duck, dog, out.

(EXHALES)

Much better.

(SIGHS)

And you can stay there until
you learn the art of subtlety.

Oh!

BOY ON TV: Lassie!

(CHANGES CHANNEL)

Ah!

(INAUDIBLE)

There you are.

(WALT CHUCKLES ON TV)

Don't worry.

There's nothing wrong
with your television set.

This is a pixie bell.

The sound is much too high
for human ears.

Oh!

There you are, Tink.

(LAUGHING) Hey!

Hey! Get that stuff off of me!

You know, if you're familiar
with our story of Peter Pan,

you know a little sprinkling
of Tinker Bell's fairy dust

can make you fly. Huh.

Where are you going, Tink?

Haven't you forgotten something?

Off!

That's how we deal with you.

Good morning, Mrs.

It's not "Mrs." It's...

Never mind.

We're just not going
to get it right, are we?

What's that?

Will it be the same
driver every day?

Yes, ma'am. I am all yours.

Hey, sun came out again.

You say it as if you're surprised.

As if the sun were particular
about for whom it appears.

It seems that you think
that I am responsible

for it's miraculous
dawning every day.

For heaven's sake, it's California.

Certainly is.

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

I'd so much rather be
accountable for the rain.

Oh, that's sad.

Sad is entirely the wrong emotion.

I Shan't bother explaining why.

It would just... Zip!

Huh. Okey-dokey.

The rain brings life.

So does the sun.

Be quiet.

Yes, ma'am.

(INAUDIBLE)

I'll get that, Sir.

- Got it?
- Yes, Sir.

Good morning, Pamela.

It is so discomfiting to
hear a perfect stranger

use my first name.

"Mrs. Travers," please.

(STAMMERS)
I do apologize, Mrs. Travers.

I'm Don DaGradi, the scriptwriter.

Co-scriptwriter.

I shall certainly be having
my say, Mr. DiGradi.

"DaGradi."

Uh... Wonderful,
I welcome your input.

If, indeed,
we ever sign off on a script.

Right. Um...

This is the rest of your team.

This is Dick and Bob Sherman,
music and lyrics.

Boys, the one and only
Mrs. P.L. Travers.

The creator of our beloved Mary.

- Poppins.
- Who else?

"Mary Poppins."
Never, ever just "Mary."

- It's a pleasure to meet you.
- BOTH: Hello.

I fear we Shan't be
acquainted for very long.

Why is that?

Because these books simply do not lend
themselves to chirping and prancing.

No, it's certainly not a musical.

Now, where is Mr. Disney?

I should so much like to get
this started and finished

as briskly as is humanly possible.

Perhaps someone could point me
in his direction.

I'd be so grateful. Thank you.

We were hoping to give you
a little tour of the studio.

No, thank you.

Walt just wanted to
show the place off.

No one likes a show-off.

Mrs. Travers,
it's quite a long way.

Not a musical?

(HEIGH-HO MELODY PLAYING)

MRS. TRAVERS:
I am perfectly capable of walking.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

- Good morning.
- DON: Good morning, Dolly.

Could you let Mr. Disney know
I've arrived, please?

Absolutely. Please, have a seat.

Oh, no, there's no need.

He'll be just a moment,
Mrs. Travers.

Why don't we sit?

(WHISPERS) She's here.

Uh...

A word of advice,
Mrs. Travers, if I may.

You may. Whether I heed it or not
will be another matter entirely.

Wow.

Uh, it's just that

he can't stand being
called "Mr. Disney."

We're all on a first-name basis here.

(SCOFFS)

(WALT COUGHING)

Well, here you are at last.

Oh, my dear gal,

you can't imagine how excited
I am to finally meet you.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

It's an honor, Mr. Disney.

Oh, "Walt." Now,
you gotta call me Walt.

Mr. Disney was my old man,
isn't that right, Don?

Absolutely, Walt.

Come here. Come here.

Tommie.

Say hello to the one and
only Pamela Travers.

It's so nice to meet you.

WALT: (STAMMERS)
You know, I can't believe it.

P.L. Travers,
right here in my office.

After all these years,
almost 20 of them?

Mmm. Yes.

Twenty long years.

I wish you could have
seen me then, Pam.

Lean as a whippet, I was.

A racehorse.

Well, anyway. (CHUCKLES)

Now, here you are, and look at you.

I could just eat you up.

Uh... That wouldn't be appropriate.

You know what... When Diane, here,

was about, uh, seven years old...

Oh, can I get you something
to drink? A coffee, or...

A pot of tea would be most welcome.

Anyway, she was about
seven years old

when I was walking past her room

and she was on her bed reading
to her sister, Sharon,

and those girls, they were just
giggling their little socks off.

- Tommie?
- TOMMIE: Yes?

A hot tea for Pamela and me.

Right away, Walt.

Ah, you're a doll.

She is. She's a doll.

Anyways, I asked them, I said,
"Girls, what's so funny?"

And Diane said to me,

"Why, Daddy, Mary Poppins."
(LAUGHING)

I didn't even know
what a Mary Poppins was.

But then she gave me
one of your books,

and, oh, by gosh, my imagination
caught on fire.

Absolutely on fire.

And those embers have burned
ever since, as you know.

I do. Yes.

Twenty years.

So you keep saying.

Pam,

a man cannot break a promise
he's made to his kids.

No matter how long it takes
for him to make it come true.

Now, you've kept me
dangling all this time.

But now, I gotcha.

"Gotcha," indeed.

Mr. Disney, if you have "dangled,"

it is at the end of a rope you
have fashioned for yourself.

I was perfectly clear
when you approached me 20 years ago

that she wasn't for sale.
And I was clear again

when you approached me
the following year

and clear again when you
approached me every annum

for the subsequent 18 years,

and quite honestly,
I feel corralled.

Oh, now, Pam, the last thing I want
to do is make you feel as though...

Would you mind? My name
is "Mrs. Travers." I do...

See, I promised them, Pam.
Now, that's a fact.

You got kids?

No. Well, not precisely.

I have never, and absolutely never,

gone back on a promise I made
to either one of my daughters.

Now, that's what being "Daddy"
is all about, right?

Is it?

See, our motion picture is not
just gonna make my kids happy.

It's gonna make
all kids happy. Adults, too.

Because my guys are
gonna do things with it

that are revolutionary, Pam.
Revolutionary!

Your Mary Poppins is gonna
literally fly off the pages

of your books.

Oh. Thank you, Tommie.

This magical woman who has
only lived inside your head,

well, you are gonna be able
to meet her, speak to her.

You're gonna hear her sing.

Now, the singing, I'm very
glad you've come to that.

Oh! (STAMMERS)
Milk in first, please.

Then the tea.

And a spoonful of sugar.

You don't intend for this
film to be a musical?

I absolutely do.

No.

- No?
- No.

Mr. Disney,
Mary Poppins does not sing.

Yes, she does.

- When?
- In your books.

No, those aren't songs.
They're recitations.

She's not a giddy woman.
She's doesn't jig about.

I mean, singing is frivolous.

It's wholly unnecessary in a
governess, an educatress.

No, it would simply ruin it.

I won't have her turned into
one of your silly cartoons.

Now, Pam...

(CLEARS THROAT)

I want you to know

that the last thing I would do,

the very last thing,

is tarnish a story
I have cherished.

Now, the pages of your books
are worn to tissue.

They are dog-eared and falling out,

because I have pored over them,
gripped and tormented.

Because I love her, Pam.

I love Mary Poppins.

And you, you have got
to share her with me.

And nothing happens
without your say-so.

Quite right.

It's all right here in
the rights agreement

that was approved by your agent.

Uh... Dermot?

"Diarmuid."

(STRUGGLING TO PRONOUNCE)

A live-action film. No animation.

Live-action. Here's a pen.

I'd like this on tape.

On tape?

Mmm. Your promise,

and all the conversations
we have here, on tape.

Uh-huh. There you are.

Mary Poppins and the Banks,
they are family to me.

I understand that. I do.

Well, then. Shall we begin?

(CHUCKLES)

Let's make something wonderful.

Well, let's see if
that's at all possible.

Whoa.

Damn.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Testing. One, two, three.

ON TAPE: Testing. One, two.

(STAMMERS)
What is all this jollification?

We've got a whole
script to get through.

It's gonna be a long day, Mrs. T.

(STAMMERING) Mrs. Travers.

You could save a starving country

with benefaction from
this room alone.

It's just, ugh, so vulgar.

Did you turn on the thing?

Uh...

Yes. Now, let us begin.

Mmm. So...

ALL: "Scene 1."

"Exterior, Cherry Tree Lane..."

"Ext"? What's "Ext"?

"Exterior."

(STAMMERS) It means
the scene takes place outside.

Oh, I see. It is an abbreviation.

I'm so sorry, Mr. DaGradi,

do you feel that you should be...

Oh. Please, be my guest,
Mrs. Travers.

I do think it's best.
I have the most practice.

Readings of my books, you know?

DON: Absolutely.

Anyway. "Scene 1. Exterior."

"17 Cherry Tree Lane, London. Day."

Yes, that's good. That can stay.

That's just the scene heading.

Although, I do think we should say
"Number 17," instead of just "17."

It's proper, yes?

ALL: No one's gonna see it.

I will see it.

Write it down.
Write it down. Chop, chop.

Is that on the tape?
Have we got that?

Uh... Yes.

Very good. Onwards.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

MRS. TRAVERS: Is that a joke?
DOLLY: Excuse me?

Do you think you are a comedienne?

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

Well, it's...

(WHISPERS) Unbelievable.
(NORMAL) In the way.

Dolly, I think we're
all set with food.

Thank you.

MRS. TRAVERS: "Scene 1. Exterior."

"Number 17, Cherry Tree
Lane, London. Day."

"Bert, a one-man..."

Oh, the rumor is
that this is to be your Mr. Van Dyke.

- Is that right?
- We do hope so.

Well, we'll see about that.
It's a horrid idea.

Dick is one of the greats.

Dick Van Dyke?

Yes.

(SCOFFS)

Robert, my dear.

Olivier is one of the greats.

Burton, Guinness,
greats without question.

I can assure... I can assure you
that Dick Van Dyke is not.

Dick Van Dyke. (SNORTS)

Uh... "Bert, a one-man band,
plays to a small gathering"

"outside the gates to the park."

"Bert... Yes, Bert says..."

You can do Bert.

- Thank you. Um...
- Go on.

Guys, shall we

give it a whirl?

What's happening?

What are you doing?

(PLAYING CHIM CHIM CHER-EE)

(IN COCKNEY ACCENT)
"All right, ladies and gents,"

"comical poem"

"suitable for the occasion."

"Extemporized and thought up
before your very eyes."

"All right, here we go."

(SINGING) Room here for everyone
Gather around.

The Constable's responstable.

Now, how does that sound?

No, no, no! No, no, no!

"Responstable"

is not a word.

We made it up.

Well, un-make it up.

"Responstable."

There's my girl.

(GRUNTS)

Here's a good boy. Come on.

That's it, Albert,
give Ginty a smooch.

There you go. There you go.

(SNORTS)

Oh.

(EXHALES)

Poor old Albert.

He's your secret uncle, you know.

But a miserable, horrid witch
turned him into a nag.

Why did she do that?

She said she hated
the sound of his laugh.

Poor Uncle Albert.

Yeah.

How can we fix him?

We have to teach the witch
to be happy again.

How?

Well,

I'm not quite sure, darling.

Do you want to know
what it feels like to fly, Ginty?

Come on. Albert, you old nag.

Come here.

(EXHALES)

Up you come.

Three, two, one.

- Do you trust me?
- Yes.

(URGES HORSE)

Nobody walks.

A leisurely stroll is a gift.

Beautiful, ain't it?

If you like that sort of thing.

I do.

(SIGHS)

DON: We do find it's helpful
to have a visual.

Plus, it's fun. (CHUCKLES)

Oh, no, no.
No, no. Goodness me, no.

DON: No?

MRS. TRAVERS: The Banks' house
doesn't look like that. No, no.

Mmm-mmm.

My house is a terraced house

with a pink door, white-bricked,

with a crack in the gable.

Okay, we get it. The house
is not what you pictured.

The windows are lead-lined

and the flower boxes grow

pink nasturtiums to
go with the pink door.

Have we got that?

Oh, dear, it's all a big mistake.
It's all wrong.

It's all wrong?

Well, it's too grand!

The Banks are normal, everyday sort
of people, and this isn't normal.

This isn't "everyday."

They're not aristocrats.

(SIGHS)

Okay.

Oh.

Do I even have to say it?

I'm afraid so.

Why in the world have you made
Mrs. Banks a silly suffragette?

I wonder if Emmeline P.
Would agree with that adjective.

(SCOFFS)
Quite possibly, looking back.

It does seem strange

that Mrs. Banks allows her kids

to spend all of their time with the nanny,
when she doesn't have a job to speak of.

Are you calling
Mrs. Banks neglectful?

- Yep.
- No, of course not.

We just thought that giving her a
job would go some way to explain...

Being a mother is a job.

It's a very difficult job,

and one that not everyone is up to.

One that not everyone should have
taken on in the first place.

And I won't have her
called "Cynthia."

Absolutely not. It feels...
it feels unlucky.

It needs to be something warm.

Something a bit,
I don't know, sexy.

How about "Mavis"?

Uh...

- "Sybil"?
- Great.

- "Prudence"?
- "Gwendolyn"?

- Perfect.
- "Winifred."

"Winifred?" "Winifred."

I could go with "Winifred."

That's because it's very good.

This isn't Mr. Banks.
This isn't... This isn't him.

Uh, yes, that's Mr. Banks.

But he has a set of mustaches.

DON: In the book, he has them.

I told the illustrator I did
not like the facial hair,

but she chose to ignore me.

Now this time around,
this is my film,

- and I shall have my way.
- (DOLLY CLEARS THROAT)

Mrs. Travers, this is a
specific request from Walt.

Why?

- Well, I think he identifies...
- He didn't, he doesn't.

Mr. Banks is clean-shaven.

Does it matter?

Bob...

Does it matter?

Bob...

You can wait outside.

I Shan't say it again, Robert.

(SCOFFS)

(CLOMPING)

What is wrong with his leg?

He got shot.

That's hardly surprising.

Can I expect any more drama
from anyone else?

(CHILDREN SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

(GIRL GIGGLING)

(SOFT PIANO PLAYING)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)

Why do you do that?

For you, my dear.

Tell me, Gintamina,

which kind of kisses do you prefer?

Scratchy ones, or silky ones?

Silky ones.

Well, then, swish!

Swoosh!

A man must shave for to spare
his daughter's cheeks.

Swish.

Swoosh.

Swoosh.

BOTH: (SINGING)
Supercalifragilistic-expialidocious.

MRS. TRAVERS: Stop! Stop! Stop!

What on earth are
you talking about?

"Supercali..."? "Supercal..."?

Or whatever the infernal thing is.

It's something you say when
you don't know what to say.

Well, I always know what to say.

If you so much as step
one foot in here with that trolley,

I shall scream.

One cannot live on cake alone.

(PANTING)

WALT: Well, hit me with it.

She has a lot of ideas.

Yeah? What kind of ideas?

(CLEARS THROAT)

The name "Cynthia" has been
changed to "Winifred."

Fine, fine, fine.

She won't approve Dick Van Dyke.

(CHUCKLES)

The sketches of the Banks house

make it look too opulent.

There must be no hint of romance

between Mary Poppins and Bert.

She wants to know why Mr. Banks
has been given a mustache.

Oh, I asked for that.

Yes, they told her that,
but she wants to know why.

Because I asked for it.

Right. Of course.

Uh, the tape measure
Mary Poppins uses

to record Jane and Michael's height
must be a roll tape, not a ruler.

She only wants
green vegetables and broth.

I don't know what that is,

but she wants it in the room
from now on.

And... Oh!

She doesn't want
the color red in the film.

At all.

I've simply gone off the color.

We can't make the picture
without the color red.

The film is set in London,
for Pete's sake.

And?

(STAMMERS)
Well, there's buses and mailboxes

and guards' uniforms and things.

And heck, the English flag.

I understand your predicament,
Mr. Disney, I do.

Uh, it's just... (SIGHS)

I don't know what it is.

I'm suddenly very anti-red.

I Shan't be wearing it ever again.

Is this a test, Pamela?

Are you requiring proof as to how
much I want to make you happy,

so we can create
this beautiful thing together?

I took you at your word,
Mr. Disney.

And it seems my first
stipulation has been denied.

There will be many more.

So, perhaps we should
just call it quits

and I should hand you back these.

(WALT SIGHS)

All right.

No red in the picture.

- Walt.
- Walt!

DON: Wait.

He doesn't have the rights.

Quite.

(SIGHS)

Tommie?

Scotch Mist?

What do you think?

TOMMIE: What do I think, what?

WALT: You're a woman.

Oh, that's a canny observation, Walt.

What am I missing here?

(SCOFFS)

You think the female of the species
has some sort of psychic insight

when it comes to
others of her kind?

We don't.

You're gonna get an ulcer
with all that unriddling.

Give it up.

(CLICKS TONGUE) That woman.

(SOFT PIANO PLAYING)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Good afternoon, ma'am.
What can I fix you?

A pot of tea, if you please.

Sure thing.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS CONTINUE)

Ma'am.

Tea is balm for the soul,
don't you agree?

GINTY: Catch the chook!

BIDDY: Grab her!

(BABY WAILING)

(BARKING)

Girls, will you please just stop?

(WAILING CONTINUES)

(SHUSHING) It's okay, it's okay.
I know, I know.

In you go.

All right?

(CONTINUES WAILING)

(SHUSHING) It's okay.

Ahoy, Goffs! Ahoy!

Father!

Whoa! That's better. (GRUNTING)

- (GASPS)
- (GIRLS (ASSUME)

What a wonderful surprise.

Did you finish early?

No, I couldn't stop thinking
of my beautiful girls

on this beautiful day
in this beautiful place.

And I thought, "To hell with it."

But don't you have work to do?

"But, but, but."

(GASPS)

Butts are for goats, my love.

(GIGGLES)

(WHISPERS)
I'll put in extra hours tomorrow.

A gift of a pear for milady.

(GIGGLES)

Thank you.

Now, what are we playing?

The hen got out and we've
been trying to catch her.

Ah.

That's no hen.

That's Aunt Ellie, your
mother's horrendiferous sister!

That's a made-up word.

(CHUCKLES) Yes, it is.

Hurry, catch her before
she flies away on the...

West wind!

West wind.

GINTY: Quick, get Aunt Ellie!
BIDDY: Ellie!

TRAVERS: Come on, Biddy!

(ALL LAUGHING)

- That way.
- (BARKS)

Oh, she's a foul fowl!

BIDDY: Get Aunt Ellie!

TRAVERS: Come on.

- (DOG BARKING)
- GINTY: Grab her!

TRAVERS: Hurry, Sergeant Ginty!
Fell the beast!

Darling, it's just that
I'm a little scared.

(SIGHS) Meg, sweet,
I had a throat scratch.

But the bank is getting
you down again.

Perhaps my sister can help.

No. God, no.

(SCOFFS)

I can endure. I will endure.

For the girls. Just, please...

(EXHALES) Oh, God, not Ellie.

(SCOFFS)

She's a foul fowl.

(CLUCKING SOFTLY)

It's gotta be like a slogan.

Her prescription for life.

"An apple a day?'."

"A stitch in time."

"Time and tide wait for no man."

Sugar.

"Sugar" Yeah?

Jeff had vaccination day
at school yesterday.

- Ouch.
- No ouch.

- No ouch?
- Sugar.

They put it in a cube.

Medicine in sugar?

"Cube" is an odd word.

"Spoonful."

You need sugar? We have sugar.

Well, morning!
May I walk with you?

I'm sure there aren't any laws
in your country against it.

DICK: (SINGING)
A Robin feathering his nest.

Has very little time to rest.

Go back to the chorus.

For a spoonful of sugar
helps the medicine go down.

The medicine...

It's not... It's missing...

Wait.

She always does the unexpected.

Mmm-hmm.

She goes up the banisters.

- (SNAPS FINGERS)
- BOTH: Go up!

Just a spoonful of sugar.

BOTH:
Helps the medicine go down.

That's it, that's it, that's it.

(WALT COUGHING)

Man is in the Forest.

I want you to play that for him.

Walt, hold on.
I want you to hear this.

- It's just the chorus.
- Tell us what you think.

(BOB CLEARS THROAT)

DICK: (SINGING) He knows

(BOTH VOCALIZING)

(WHISTLING)

For a spoonful of sugar
helps the medicine go down.

The medicine go down
The medicine go down.

Just a spoonful of sugar
helps the medicine go down

(BOTH VOCALIZING)

We'll... We'll work out
the rest of the lyrics.

You see how it goes up
on the word "down"?

On the word "down," it goes up.

It's ironic.

Oh, forget "ironic."
(STAMMERS) It's iconic.

I won't be able to stop
singing that for weeks.

(HUMMING)

Well, it seems enormously
patronizing to me.

Just the sort of annoying tune
you'd have playing

in your themed park, I daresay.

All giddy and carefree, encouraging
children to face the world unarmed.

All they need is a
spoon and some sugar

and a brain full of fluff and
they're equipped with life's tools.

Wonderful.

What's your point, Pam?

"Mrs. Travers," please.

My point is that, unlike yourself,

Mary Poppins is the very enemy
of whimsy and sentiment.

She's truthful.

She doesn't sugarcoat
the darkness in the world

that these children will eventually,
inevitably come to know.

She prepares them for it.
She deals in honesty.

One must clean one's room.

It won't magically do it by itself.

This entire script is flim-flam. Hmm?

Where is it's heart?
Where is it's reality?

Where is the gravitas?

No weight, Mr. Disney.

See?

"No whimsy or sentiment"
says the woman

who sent a flying nanny
with a talking umbrella

to save the children.

You think Mary Poppins has come
to save the children, Mr. Disney?

Oh, dear.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Mr. Belhatchett.

Good afternoon.

After you, my dear.

Allow me.

(TRAVERS SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

TRAVERS:
...or if I'm five minutes late

opening his stupid bank!

Well, then, he'll take to me

with the business end
of his beautiful hatchet!

There! Whack!

"Take that for not dropping
your bairns on schedule!"

Whack! "Go on, then!
Take that! Take that!"

(PANTING)

- Mr. Belhatchett...
- I want you gone.

(GASPS)

Ginty.

Sweet thing,
what are you doing here?

You said today was ice cream day.

Ice cream day. Yes, I did.

Of course, of course.

What kind of a father am I?
Come here. (SIGHS)

Are you fired again?

Yes. (STAMMERS)
It does seem that...

No, sweetheart. No.

He's not.

Darling, wait inside for a second.

Mr. Belhatchett...

If you can't straighten up
for your own sake,

do it for your daughter.

(STOMPS CANE) Irresponsible.

We share a Celtic soul, you and I.

This world,

it's just an illusion,
Ginty old girl.

As long as we hold
that thought dear,

they can't break us.

They can't make us
endure their reality.

Bleak and bloody as it is.

Money. Money, money.

Don't you buy into it, Ginty.

It'll bite you on the bottom.

MRS. TRAVERS:
I loathe this place, Mr. Russell.

It's bringing up these...
(STAMMERS)

Well, it's so hot and stuffy.

I feel as if I'm being attacked.

There's these odd dreams,

as if my subconscious
were after me,

punishing me for
entertaining the idea

that I might hand her over.

I'm at war with myself,
Mr. Russell.

The script is ghastly.

Empty pap, just as I expected.

Yes. A few more days,
then I'll decide.

Oh.

Serves me right.

Money, money, money.
It bit me on the butt.

DICK: (SINGING) Feed the birds,
tuppence a bag.

Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.

Feed the birds
That's what she cries.

While overhead,
her birds fill the skies.

All around the cathedral
the saints and apostles.

Look down as she sells her wares.

Although you can't see it
You know they are smiling.

Each time someone
shows that he cares.

Though her words are simple and few.

Listen, listen
She's calling to you.

Feed the birds, tuppence a bag.

Tuppence.

Tuppence.

Tuppence a bag.

That'll work.

(SCOFFS)

But she's gonna say no, isn't she?

(SIGHS)
The woman is a conundrum.

(CLEARS THROAT)

(PLAYING A MAN HAS DREAMS)

(SINGING) My world was calm.

Well ordered, exemplary.

"Exemplary."

Then came this person
with chaos in her wake

(CHUCKLES)

And now my life's ambitions go.

With one fell blow.

It's quite a bitter pill to take.

Inspired by someone we know?

You'd have to ask Bob.

She might surprise us all.

No, no, no, she won't.

You don't know that.

No, I do. I do know it.

I know it only too well.

I fought this battle from her side.

Pat Powers.

Oh, he wanted the mouse, and I didn't
have a bean in my pocket back then.

He was this big, terrifying
New York producer,

I was just a kid from Missouri
with a sketch of Mickey.

It would've killed
me to give him up.

Honest to God, would've killed me.

That mouse is family.

(SIGHS)

Go home.

TRAVERS: This world,

it's just an illusion, Ginty old girl.

(CHICKEN CLUCKING)

Ah, the Countess Mary Sparklestick.

Pray tell me, what are you
concentrating so hard on?

I'm laying eggs.

Really? Fabulous.

Today, I'm a hen.

(LAUGHS) Indeed.

I can see the feathers
sprouting as we speak.

Helen Goff, will you lay
the table for supper, please?

I'm not Helen.

She can't possibly lay the
table, she's busy laying eggs.

Helen, will you lay the table
for supper, please?

She's laying!

(SIGHS) Sorry.

(CRYING)

(SHUSHING)

I should...

Ginty.

Don't you ever stop dreaming,
Ginty, my love.

You can be anyone you want to be.

Anyone.

I want to be just like you.

Don't.

Don't.

(SOBBING)

Are you all right, Mrs.?

DON: Mrs. Travers?

Mrs. Travers.

We were saying we'd like to
play you the song in the bank.

Would that be good?

Mmm.

Okay.

Fidelity Fiduciary Bank.

(CLEARS THROAT)

I am Dawes.

(IN BRITISH ACCENT)
"So, you have tuppence.

"May I be permitted to see it?

(IN BOY'S VOICE) "No, I want it"

"to feed the birds," Michael says.

"Fiddlesticks, boy!"

"Feed the birds and
what have you got?"

ALL: Fat birds!

DICK: But...

(SINGING) If you invest your tuppence
Wisely in the bank.

Safe and sound.

Soon the tuppence
Safely invested in the bank

(SONG ECHOING)

(GRUNTS)

(BRASS BAND PLAYING)

(BULL BRAYS)

Mrs. Brill says Father
is presenting the medals.

He is, indeed.
On behalf of the bank.

Maybe he'll pin one on me
for the maypole.

He might.

Where is Father?

I think he's practicing
his speech somewhere.

Two, please.

(MEN CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

DICK: (SINGING) And you'll achieve.

That sense of conquest.

As your affluence expands.

In the hands of the directors.

Who invest as propriety demands

(CAROUSEL MUSIC PLAYING)

Father!

(MEN CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

(TRAVERS LAUGHING)

Back in Ireland. Ah!

I miss her green hills so.

(CLINK ECHOING)

(INAUDIBLE)

(BRASS BAND PLAYING)

(MUSIC STOPS)

Why is he speaking for the bank?

He is the manager, Sir.

He looks terrible.

Good afternoon,
distinguished guests,

our biggest supporter,
Mr. Randolph Belhatchett,

(STAMMERS)
and his lovely wife.

Ladies and gentlemen,
boys and girls.

I'm honored to be here on behalf of

the Belhatchett Bank of Australia.

Shortly, it will, uh...

it will be my very pleasant duty

to present the awards
to our young performers.

But, we, uh... But before I begin,

allow me a very few words to
our very youngest citizens

about the, uh... About the, uh,

the role of the bank
in our community.

(SINGING) When you deposit tuppence
in a bank account.

Soon...

Soon, you'll see...

that it blooms into credit of a...

generous amount.

Semiannually.

ALL: And you'll achieve
that sense of stature.

As your influence expands.

To the high.

Financial strata.

That established credit now commands.

You can purchase
first and second trust deeds.

- Think of the...
- Foreclosures!

DON: Bonds!
DICK: Chattels!

- Dividends!
- Shares!

- Bankruptcies!
- Debtor sales!

Opportunities!

All manner of...

Private enterprise!

- Shipyards!
- DON: The Mercantile!

BOB: Collieries!
DICK: Tanneries!

Incorporations!

Amalgamations!

- Banks!
- Banks!

Thanking you kindly. Thank you.

(COUGHING)

I, um...

Where was I?

Ah!

Oh, yeah.

It's a marvelous thing to encourage
our children to open bank accounts.

Marvelous thing!

My, my, uh... My daughter,
the Princess Ginty!

She's... She's...

(SOFTLY)
Uh, how old are you?

Ginty, come up. Come up here.

Come, Ginty.

Ginty has an account,
and that's good!

Well, give her a drink!

(STAMMERS)
I mean, give her a hand.

I shall return in
just a few moments

to present the awards.

But right now,

I need to relieve myself.

(CROWD MURMURING)

Give us your shoulder,
Ginty, will you?

I'm bursting. There's a good girl.

(CROWD GASPS)

(LAUGHING)

(CONTINUES LAUGHING)

ALL: (SINGING) In the Dawes.

Tomes, Mousely, Grubbs.

Fidelity Fiduciary.

Bank.

DON: I think it works.

DICK: It's getting close.

Why did you have to
make him so cruel?

He was not a monster!

Who are we talking about?
I'm confused.

You all have children, yes?

ALL: Yes, yes.

And do those children
make letters for you?

Do they write letters?
Do they make you drawings?

And would you tear up
those gifts in front of them?

It's a dreadful thing to do.
I don't understand.

Why must Father tear up
the advertisement

his children have made,

(STAMMERS)
and throw it in the fireplace?

Why won't he mend their kite?

Why have you made him
so unspeakably awful?

In glorious Technicolor,
for all the world to see?

If you claim to make them live,
why can't he...

They live well?

I can't bear it. Please, don't.

Please, don't.

I feel like I let him down again.

Mrs. Travers?

I don't suppose you can
give me any more for the pain?

(SIGHS)

When will enough be enough,
Travers?

Hmm?

(DOOR CLOSES)

I brought you something,
Father.

Be a darling, Ginty, my old pal.

Come here.

Come here. Come close.

(EXHALES)

I'm sick.

You'll help Father out,
won't you?

In my washroom,

there's a bottle of medicine
that Father needs.

Mother took it away.

Oh, God damn it!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

I wrote you a poem, Father.

It won first place at school.

Shall I read it to you, Father?

It's hardly Yeats, is it?

Mrs.?

I, uh... I brought you a tea.

It's blasphemy to drink tea
from a paper cup.

Oh. Uh...

Here.

Is everything okay, Mrs.?

Would you like me
to drive you home?

All the way to England?
Yes, please.

You, uh... You got family
back there, Mrs.?

You're an impertinent man,
you know?

You ask an awful lot of questions
that have absolutely no relevance

to your being able
to carry out your duties.

(CHUCKLES)

I know. Yeah, I do, do that, yes.

And you have no barometer.

Let's just say I haven't family

who would notice whether
I were halfway across the world

or sitting in my living room.

Make a furrow. There.

That's a good stick for digging.

- A furrow?
- Yes.

All right.

I got a kid.

Most people do.

Jane.

Yeah.

What a terrific kid.

Beautiful little girl.

She's got a lot of problems,
though.

She's handicapped, you know?

She's in a wheelchair.

See, and that's why I concern
myself with the weather so much.

Sunny day, she can sit outside
in the garden.

Rainy day, I gotta leave her
cooped up inside.

I worry about the future,

but you can't do that.

Only today.

Mmm.

Yeah.

Now, look.

It's a bandstand.

Ah!

Ah! A river!

- Lake.
- Lake.

Hmm.

Hey, hey, hey, I sure would
like to take her there.

Wouldn't that be nice?

Mother?

I know you gave it to him.

Take care of your sisters.

What?

I know you love your father more.

But one day, you will understand.

Hmm.

Mother!

Mother?

- Mother!
- (BABY CRYING)

Mother!

(BABY WAILING)

(NEIGHS)

Come on, Albert.

Mother!

Please!

Mother!

Mother!

Mother!

(GASPS)

(YELPING)

It's time to go home.

(WHIMPERS)

(SOBBING) I'm sorry.

Oh, my God.

I'm sorry.

(CONTINUES SOBBING)

Yes, that will be very good.

Let's have that.

I think we should
go with Frida Kahlo.

(PHONE RINGING)

Mrs. Travers. Yes?

(COUGHING)

Pam. Walt.

Mr. Disney.

I'm calling to, uh...
Well, to check up on you.

I understand things
didn't go so well today.

Something about Mr. Banks?

They went as well as they've gone on
every other day that I've been here.

I don't recall any special phone calls
from you on any of those other evenings.

Pam,

what's this all about?

I mean, really?

I'm wondering what I have
to do to make you happy.

Oh.

And you're wondering that,
too, aren't you?

You know, you've never
been to Disneyland,

and that's the happiest place on earth.

Tommie!
Cancel my morning tomorrow.

I'm gonna take a ride
with my favorite author.

No, no, no, please, Mr. Disney,

I cannot begin to tell you how
uninterested, no, positively sickened I am

at the thought of visiting
your dollar-printing machine.

Well, for crying out loud,

when does anybody
get to go to Disneyland

with Walt Disney himself?

Disappointments are to the soul

what the thunderstorm
is to the air.

(GASPS IN DISBELIEF)

- Hello?
- (SLAMS PHONE)

He...

He Hung up. He Hung up.

Guys, we gotta fix this.

(HORSE SNUFFLING)

Father, wind's from the east.

The aunt.

(FLIES BUZZING)

(SIGHS)

Oh, dear.

Now...

I've brought every newfangled
treatment available in Sydney.

Close your mouth, Biddy.
We are not a codfish.

ELLIE: Hmm.

Now, I see a multitude of jobs
that need to be done.

I've just been, um...
I've been so worried.

Oh, stop your babbling nonsense.

I'm here now,
and I shall fix everything.

I thought I made it perfectly clear
that you two ought to start helping.

Hmm?

Spit-spot!

Where are we?

(STAMMERS) This isn't the way.

Change of venue this morning,
apparently.

Oh...

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(GATE OPENING)

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

Wow!

There he is!

Living and breathing.

(CHUCKLES)

Oh, boy!

Oh, I can get that.

Mrs. Travers, welcome
to the Magic Kingdom.

(SIGHS)

Is it all like this?

Yep. (CHUCKLES)

Isn't it wonderful?

Hey.

Do you always get
everything you want, Walter?

Pretty much.

With the exception of the
rights to my books, of course.

Well, the war ain't over yet, Pam.

The war ain't over yet.

I love you so much.

- Oh, ho!
- (GIRLS SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)

Sure, sure. Here you go.

Here you go.

Pre-signed?

Hey, you should get hers, too.

This woman is a bona fide genius.

(SCOFFS)

The tour starts this way, Pam.

Hot dog.

Whoa, whoa, whoa...

Move along, move along.
Up, up, up, up!

That's good. That's good.

WALT: Each section of the
park has a high point

so you can get your bearings.

In Adventureland, there's a tree.

This is a fun fact,
this is a titbit.

"Tidbit."

It's got three million leaves,
four million flowers.

- Gosh.
- They said only God could make a tree.

MAN 1: Mr. Disney, Sir,
would you mind signing this?

No. Do you one better.
Here you go, have a great day.

MAN 1: Oh. Thank you so much.

- MAN 2: Mr. Disney!
- Hey.

Where did she come from?

Who?

Oh, I think you know.

She flew in through the
window one day.

"Flew in through the window."

It was just that easy,
was it, Mrs. Travers?

Do you see those spires?

Plated with 24-karat gold.

Roy was against it,

so I waited until he was
out of town to get it done.

MRS. TRAVERS: How clever.

WALT: Now, I know
you don't want to be here,

so, I'm just gonna
take you to one ride.

My favorite amusement,
and then I'll set you free.

WOMAN: Hello, Mr. Disney!

Hello, folks, how are you?
Enjoy the day.

Hey, kids.

(CROWD GASPS)

Ernie.

- Welcome. Right this way.
- Thank you so much.

Excuse me, please.

Mrs. Travers, I would be honored if you
would take a ride on Jingles, here.

This is Mrs. Disney's
favorite horse.

No, thank you.
I'm happy to watch.

Now, there's no
greater Joy than that

seen through the eyes of a child,

and there's a little bit
of a child in all of us.

Maybe in you, Mr. Disney,
but certainly not in me.

Get on the horse, Pamela.

(CHUCKLES)

Now, when we first met,

you said to me, "They're family."

I said what?

Mary Poppins, the Banks.
They're family.

The boys have come up with
an idea for your Mr. Banks.

I think it's gonna make you happy.

You didn't bring me all the
way out here to tell me that?

Oh, no, no, no.

I brought you all the way out
here for monetary gain.

I had a wager with the boys.
Couldn't get you on a ride.

I just won 20 bucks.

- (BELL RINGS)
- (CHUCKLES)

(URGES HORSES)

(CAROUSEL MUSIC PLAYING)

(CHILDREN CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

I see you. I see you.

Well begun is half done.

- There you go.
- (BIDDY GRUNTING)

Give it a whack, Biddy.
Nice and hard.

(TRAVERS COUGHING)

(PANTING)

Morning, Mrs. Travers.

What horrors have you in store

for my beautiful characters today?

You sit here.

All right.

- What are you up to?
- (CHUCKLES)

We were thinking
about what you said,

and you're right.

Mr. Banks isn't cruel. He isn't.

So, we have a new
end for the film.

Oh, God, I hope you like it. (EXHALES)

Michael says,
"He mended it. It's wonderful."

"However did you manage it?"

He mended the kite?

(DICK PLAYING LET'S GO FLY A KITE)

(SINGING) With tuppence
for paper and strings.

You can have your own set of wings.

With your feet on the ground
You're a bird in flight.

With your fist holding tight.

To the string of your kite.

ALL: Oh, oh, oh!

Let's go fly a kite.

Up to the highest height.

Let's go fly a kite.

And send it soaring.

Up through the atmosphere.

Up where the air is clear.

Oh, let's go fly a kite.

Then, Mrs. Banks
runs through her house.

She gets the suffragette ribbon,
and says...

"A proper kite deserves
a proper tail,"

"don't you think?"

ALL: Oh, oh, oh!

Let's go fly a kite.

Up to the highest height.

Let's go fly a kite.

And send it soaring.

Up through the atmosphere.

Up where the air is clear.

Oh, let's go fly a kite.

When you send it flying up there.

All at once
You're lighter than air.

You can dance on the breeze.

Over houses and trees.

With your fist holding tight.

To the string of your kite.

Mr. Disney! Walt!

I'm sorry to interrupt.

It's just that she's dancing.

(PANTING)

Mrs. Travers.
She's dancing with Don.

ALL: Oh, oh, oh!

Let's go fly a kite.

Up to the highest height.

Let's go fly a kite.

And send it soaring.

Up through the atmosphere.

Up where the air is clear.

Oh, let's go fly a kite

(LAUGHING)

He... He fixes the kite.

Oh, I love it.

(SIGHS)

Although, the proper English would
be, "Let us go and fly a kite."

(SINGING)
Let us go and fly a kite

I might be willing
to overlook that.

All right.

Very good.

Look at you.

I rewrote the poem, Father.

The aunt gave me tuppence.

Shall I buy you something, Father?

Pears.

Pears.

Father.

Tuppence for pears,
pears, pears, pears.

(IN SING-SONG VOICE) Tuppence for pears,
pears, pears, pears.

You're quite right, you know?
It is beautiful.

Exquisite.

It's always new.

So, Jolly Holiday is in?

Mmm. By all means.

Wonderful.

I do have a question
about it, actually.

How in the world does Mr. Disney propose
to train all the penguins to dance?

I've heard about his
implausibly-leaved trees.

So, I presume he does have some
insane penguin-wrangling scheme.

But it does seem a little
far-fetched, even for him.

Can you train a penguin to dance?

No, I don't think you can train...

- They're animated.
- Dick...

- They're what?
- Cartoons.

DON: Dick!

What?

Are we getting real penguins?

Yes, 2:00, Tuesday.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Travers.

I'm here to see Mr. Disney.

Oh, please, have a...

Mrs. Travers, please!

Disney!

(GASPS)

(TYPEWRITER CLACKING)

Mrs. Travers?

Mrs. Travers!

I'm terribly sorry, Walt.

It's all right, Tommie.
Just close the door.

I never let anyone see me smoking.

I hate to encourage bad habits.

Please, sit down.

I shall not sit in the seat of a
trickster, a fraudster, a sneak!

Pamela!

"Mrs. Travers," please!

Mrs. Travers,
what has you so upset now?

Penguins.

Penguins have very much
upset me, Mr. Disney.

Animated dancing penguins.

Now, you have...
You have seduced me

with the music, Mr. Disney.
Yes, you have.

Those Sherman boys have
quite turned my head.

But I shall not be moved upon
the matter of cartoons, Sir.

Not one inch!

It is a sequence.

You promised me.

You promised me that this film
would not be an animation!

And it isn't.

So, they're real penguins?

No. No, they are animated.

But the actors, you see, the
actors are very, very much real.

Foolish old woman.

(SIGHS)
Have a good day, Mr. Disney.

Pamela.

Pam!

Oh, Dolly, would you be so kind as to ring
my driver, and ask him to collect me?

Yes, ma'am.

Thank you.

(DOOR SLAMS)

Here we are, Mrs.

- Thank you.
- Yeah.

It's been a real pleasure
driving you, Mrs.

No one likes a fibber.

Oh, no, no.

I really have enjoyed it.

I didn't know who
you were at first.

And then, guess what.

You found out?

I was telling my daughter
all about my day,

and how I'm driving this nice
writer lady, Mrs. Travers,

for Mr. Disney, and, uh...

And?

And...

And she made me go to her bedroom,

and bring her this.
(CHUCKLES)

I can't stop reading it,
you know.

I'm very slow, mind you, so...

Would you like me to sign it?

Would you?

I'd be honored.

(STAMMERS)

Uh...

Let me see, now.

"To Jane"

"and her dearest father..."

I've just this instant realized

I don't know your name.

Ralph.

Pamela.

You're the only American
I've ever liked, Ralph.

Oh... Well, may I ask why?

No.

Now, take this.

"Albert Einstein,
Van Gogh, Roosevelt.

(MISPRONOUNCES) "Frida Kahlo."

- "Kahlo."
- Kahlo.

What is this?

They all had difficulties.

Jane can do anything
that anyone else can do.

Do you understand?

Oh.

I almost forgot, turn it around.

"Walt Disney."

Hyperactive behavior
and deficiencies in concentration.

It explains everything.

Thank you, Mrs.

DOLLY: She acted like an angry
person a lot of the time.

TOMMIE: Mmm-hmm.

So, she's come and gone, huh?

Yeah, her flight
left 10 minutes ago.

Beverly Hills Hotel,
private limousine.

First-class plane ticket
back to England for...

Wait. "Goff"?

Who is... Who is Helen Goff?

That's her. That's her real name.

She acts so hoity-toity British,

and she's really an Aussie.

Then who is Travers?

I've been talking to
the wrong person?

He's gone.

No, no, no. You mustn't.

Let her go, Margaret.

I dropped the pears.

I'm sorry, Daddy.

Helen, dear girl...

You promised you
would fix everything.

Hello, house.

(SIGHS)

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(GASPS)

(GROANS SOFTLY)

Oh, dear God!

It was one heck of a
job getting a seat

on the very next flight,
let me tell you.

Mrs. Travers,

(CHUCKLES) I could sure use a nice
pot of English tea about now.

Here we are.

Allow me.

Milk in first, remember?

Yeah, I remember.

And a spoonful of sugar?

NO, I think I'll have whisky.

Oh.

Ooh.

That's okay.

(CHUCKLING)
Well, when in Rome...

Thank you.

You've come to change my mind,
haven't you?

To beat me into submission.

No. No.

I've come because you misjudged me.

(SCOFFS)

How do I misjudge you?

You look at me

and you see some kind
of Hollywood King Midas.

You think I've built an empire,
and I want your Mary Poppins

as just another brick
in my kingdom.

And don't you?

Now, if that was all it was,

would I have suckered up
to a cranky, stubborn Dame

like you for 20 years?

No, I would have
saved myself an ulcer.

No... You, uh...

You expected me to disappoint you,

and so you made sure I did.

Well, I think life disappoints you,
Mrs. Travers.

I think it's done that a lot, and I
think Mary Poppins is the only person

in your life who hasn't.

Mary Poppins isn't real.

That's not true. No, no, no.

She's as real as can
be to my daughters.

And to thousands
of other kids. Adults, too.

She's been there as a nighttime
comfort to a heck of a lot of people.

Well, where is she
when I need her, hmm?

I open the door to Mary Poppins,

and who should be standing there,
but Walt Disney?

(SIGHS)

Mrs. Travers, I'm sorry.

I'd hoped this would have been
a magical experience,

for you and for all of us,
but I've let you down.

And, in doing so,

I've broken a 20-year-old
promise I made to my daughters.

I've been racking my brain,
trying to figure out why

this has been so
hard for you and I.

And, well... (SIGHS)

You see,
I have my own Mr. Banks.

Mine had a mustache.

So, it is not true that Disney
created man in his own image?

(CHUCKLES) No, no.

But it is true that
you created yourself

in someone else's, yes?

Have you ever been
to Kansas City, Mrs. Travers?

Do you know Missouri at all?

I can't say I do.

Well, it's mighty cold
there in the winters.

Bitter cold.

And my dad, Elias Disney,

he owned a newspaper
delivery route there.

A thousand papers, twice daily.

A morning and an evening edition.

And Dad was a tough businessman.

He was a "save a Penny
any way you can" type of fella.

So he wouldn't employ
delivery boys.

No, no, no. He used me
and my big brother Roy.

I was, uh...
I was eight back then.

Just eight years old.

And, like I said,
winters are harsh.

And old Elias, well,
he didn't believe in new shoes,

until the old ones
were worn through.

Honestly, Mrs. Travers,

the snowdrifts, sometimes they
were up over my head.

And we'd push through that
snow like it was molasses.

The cold and wet seeping through

our clothes and our shoes.

Skin peeling from our faces.

Sometimes I'd find myself
sunk down in that snow,

just waking up,

because I must have passed out
or something, I don't know.

And then it was time for school,

and I was too cold or wet

to figure out equations and things.

And then it was right back
out in the snow again

to get home just before dark.

Mother would feed us dinner.

And then it was time
to go right back out

and do it again for
the evening edition.

"You had best be quick there, Walt."
"You'd better get those newspapers up

"on that porch
and under that storm door."

"Poppa's gonna lose
his temper again"

"and show you the buckle
end of his belt, boy."

I don't... I don't tell you this
to make you sad,

Mrs. Travers.

I don't. I love my life.
I think it's a miracle.

And I loved my dad. He was a...
He was a wonderful man.

But rare is the day

when I don't think about
that eight-year-old boy

delivering newspapers in the snow,

and old Elias Disney
with that strap in his fist.

And I am just so tired.

Mrs. Travers,

I'm tired of remembering
it that way.

Aren't you tired, too,
Mrs. Travers?

Now we all have our sad tales,

but don't you want
to finish the story?

Let it all go and have a life

that isn't dictated by the past?

It's not the children
she comes to save.

It's their father.

It's your father.

Travers Goff.

I don't know what you think
you know about me, Walter...

You must have loved and admired
him a lot to take his name.

I...

It's him this is all about,
isn't it?

All of it, everything.

Forgiveness, Mrs. Travers.

It's what I learned
from your books.

I don't have to forgive my father.

He was a wonderful man.

No, no.

You need to forgive Helen Goff.

Life is a harsh sentence
to lay down for yourself.

Give her to me.

Mrs. Travers, trust me with
your precious Mary Poppins.

I won't disappoint you.

I swear, every time a person
walks into a movie house,

from Leicester Square
to Kansas City,

they will see George
Banks being saved.

They will love him and his kids.

They will weep for his cares.

They will wring their hands
when he loses his job.

And when he flies that kite...

Oh, Mrs. Travers,
they will rejoice.

They will sing.

In movie houses all over the world, in the
eyes and hearts of my kids and other kids,

and mothers and fathers
for generations to come,

George Banks will be honored.

George Banks will be redeemed.

George Banks and all he stands for
will be saved.

Now, maybe not in life,
but in imagination.

Because that's what
we storytellers do.

We restore order with imagination.

We instill hope again
and again and again.

So, trust me, Mrs. Travers.

Let me prove it to you.

I give you my word.

Enough.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

WALT: Just make those two changes

and I'm sure everything
will be just fine. Just fine.

Walt, could I get
your approval on that, please?

What is it?

Invitation list to the premiere.

Yeah? Is this everyone?

It's not everyone.

Now, there will be a
premiere in London.

That will be more
convenient for her.

Tommie, this wasn't an easy decision
for me, but you know what she's like.

We got press,
interviews, cameras.

I need to protect the picture.

Okay.

- (DOORBELL RINGING)
- Ah.

I should say so, too.

POLLY: Mrs. Travers!

Mrs. Travers!

Will you stop screeching
like an alley cat!

And answer the door!

I'm very pleased to
hear that, Pamela.

I should think you will
have a draft fairly soon.

Polly, where's that tea?

It's coming along marvelously.

Ah, ah, ah.

No peeking.

Aren't you going to pour it for us?

You're perfectly capable
of pouring it yourself.

She's quite the worst
maid I've ever had.

- So why do you keep her?
- I don't know.

- She reminds me of me.
- (DIARMUID CHUCKLES)

Do you have a title?

Mary Poppins in the Kitchen.

Wonderful.

So, should we start talking
about the film rights?

Never again.

Okay.

Now, tell me, have you got
your Tiara for the premiere?

Oh, I'm not going to that.

Why not?

Hollywood premieres aren't
for an old trout like me.

Anyway, it's not convenient.

He hasn't invited you, has he?

Mary Poppins wouldn't
stand for that.

Can I help you?

I'm perfectly capable, thank you.

As I recall.

Sweet of you.

- Walt... Um...
- Hello, Dolly!

Walt...

Tommie, we're gonna have
to move that meeting with GE.

What?

Mrs. Travers.

Me again!

How wonderful to see you.

I'm here for my premiere.

Great!

I didn't receive my invitation,

but I just assumed the
American postal service

had fallen down upon the job,
as per usual.

I will have a replacement
sent to your hotel right away.

You're very kind, Mr. Disney.

I knew you wouldn't
have forgotten me.

Pamela.

How could I forget you?

- Good evening.
- Oh, hello.

Could you please order me a cab?

Absolutely.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Ralph?

I had a feeling a certain
friend of mine

might be needing me tonight.

Oh.

Hey! (CHUCKLES)
Wow.

You look like a million bucks.

Thank you.

Let's get you to that ball.
Huh? Come on.

Thank you, Ralph. Thank you.

(BAND PLAYING A SPOONFUL OF SUGAR)

(CAMERAS CLICKING)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(CROWD CHEERING)

Oh, no, no, no.
I got that, brother.

(BAND PLAYING JOLLY HOLIDAY)

This is your night.

None of this would be
possible without you.

(INDISTINCT)

(MARY POPPINS' OVERTURE PLAYING ONSCREEN)

And snap!

The job is a game.

(SINGING) And every task
you undertake.

Becomes a piece of cake.

A lark, a spree
It's very clear to see

(JOLLY HOLLIDAY PLAYING)

(AUDIENCE LAUGHING)

(ALL LAUGHING)

MEN: (SINGING)
Step in time, step in time.

Step in time, step in time.

Never need a reason
Never need a rhyme.

Step in time
You step in time.

Sometimes, a person we love,
through no fault of his own,

can't see past the end of his nose.

JANE:
Past the end of his nose?

BERT: Well, now,
there must be some mistake.

Your dad is a fine gentleman,
and he loves you.

JANE: I don't think so.

You should have seen
the look on his face.

He doesn't like us at all.

BERT: Well, now, that don't
seem likely, does it?

Let's sit down.

You know, begging your pardon,

but the one my heart
goes out to is your father.

There he is in that cold,
heartless bank, day after day.

Hemmed in by mounds
of cold, heartless money.

I don't like to see
any living thing caged up.

JANE: Father in a cage?

BERT: They makes cages in
all sizes and shapes, you know.

Bank-shaped some of them,
carpets and all.

JANE: Mary Poppins,
you won't ever leave us, will you?

Whatever would we
do without you?

MARY POPPINS: I shall stay
until the wind changes.

(MELANCHOLY MUSIC PLAYING)

(CRYING)

(SNIFFLES)

(MRS. TRAVERS CONTINUES CRYING)

It's all right.
It's all right, Mrs. Travers.

Mr. Banks is going
to be all right, I promise.

No, no. It's just...

I can't abide cartoons.

Mmm.

MR. BANKS: (SINGING)
Oh, oh, oh!

Let's go fly a kite.

Up to the highest height.

Let's go fly a kite.

And send it soaring

(MOUTHING)

Up through the atmosphere.

Up where the air is clear.

Oh, let's go...

(CHIM CHIM CHER-EE MELODY PLAYING)

Don't leave me.

Never.

I promise.

I will never leave you.

TRAVERS: Wind's in the east,

mist coming in,

like something is brewing,

about to begin.

Can't put my finger

on what lies in store,

but I feel what's to happen

all happened before.

(SOFT INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC PLAYING)

MRS. TRAVERS ON TAPE: Now, who's reading?
And go slowly.

DON:
You start and I'll take over...

BOB: Autumn. In the early part

"of the 20th century, 1910. London."

"At Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane,"

"the Banks household is in an uproar."

MRS. TRAVERS: Hold if.

Now, I see that Cherry Tree Lane

as not too townified
on one side of the park.

And we'll get you a photograph
of 50 Smith Street,

in order to see that the house
is really quite like that.

But it has more of a garden
than my house had.

But it might be useful and amusing

to put it in as my house.
You see?

DON: Upstairs in the nursery,

"where Mary is measuring up
the children

"with a long row of tape measure,".

"Mary reads off the tape that Jane is..."

First she says,

"What kind of material
have we got to work with?"

MRS. TRAVERS: No, no.
That, we cannot have.

That would be quite un-English.

DICK: Mrs. Travers, basically,
what we want to do here

is use pretty much
what you have in the book.

MRS. TRAVERS: Yes, yes.

Now, I want this tape measure
to be used,

because it was a tape measure
that my mother had

- when she was a little girl.
- DICK: Mmm-hmm.

MRS. TRAVERS: And I think
it would be very nice.

DON: "At the end of the chorus..."

MRS. TRAVERS:
Read me all that, now.

DON: We were going to.
MRS. TRAVERS: Read it.

No, no. You read it.

DON: Do you want to bear us?
(CHUCKLES)

MRS. TRAVERS: No. Go on.

DON: This is torture! (CHUCKLES)

MRS. TRAVERS: Now, go on.
"At the end of the chorus..."

There ought perhaps to have

been people in this countryside.

Do you see?
Are you making note of it?

And they would be the Pearly people.

They'd be arriving
and they'd come nearer

and they'd see, "Ah. Hmm."

They know they are
not grand enough to eat at this table.

- Have you got this on tape?
- DON: Yes. Oh, yes.

MRS. TRAVERS: Because
I think it's important.

I'm not going to do this film
unless I'm available for it.

BOB: There are these tapes also,
you know.

MRS. TRAVERS:
No, it's not enough.

BOB: We, uh... We have
to feel the impact of it.

MRS. TRAVERS: Yes, yes.

Well, anyway, it brings
about whatever it is,

Mr. Banks, um, is able.

He has a tender, good heart.
Not a change of heart.

Because he's always been sweet,

but worried with the cares of life.

(UPBEAT INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC PLAYING)