The best film ever made by the Walt Disney Studio is Mary Poppins. It might even be the best movie period. It only makes sense, then, to assume it would also make the best stage musical. Unfortunately, the production happening at the New Amsterdam Theater in New York City is so rotten that it stinks up the entire length of 42nd Street and beyond.
The book by Oscar winning screenwriter Julian Fellows is all over the map. While it stays true to P.L. Travers' original story, there is no continuity whatsoever. Mary Poppins has absolutely nothing to do with the plot. She merely comes and goes (more often the latter) while the plot makes strange detours into bizarre territory. For instance, the number "Temper, Temper" features a horrifying cast of toys gone berserk in the nursery. Why, you ask? Who the hell knows. And there's an even more nightmarish scene that still gives me the shudders when I think of it; "Jolly Holiday" is mutilated by an obscene dance break, featuring live statues with silver tights so far up their ass cracks, it's a wonder they could move. The Disney stage is not where I expect to see testicles, but the Lycra on these guys left little to the imagination. If I had children with me, I would have covered their eyes.
Many actors can overcome a lousy script, but such is not the case with this cast. As written, Mary Poppins has no charm, no wit, and certainly no charisma. Neither does Ashley Brown in the title role. She merely flashes a sly grin and sways her hips at random. The spare moments she actually is on stage, she manages to completely over sexualize the role of Poppins. She plays each scene as if she was sporting a string of anal beads. This being a Broadway production, they could have cast anyone - anyone! - in this potentially star-making role, so how did they end up with the blandest actress to ever hit the boards? If Julie Andrews was dead, she'd be rolling in her grave; but since she's alive, I suggest she stand outside the theater and shoot anyone who tries to buy a ticket. I wish I had been taken out before the curtain went up.
That leads me to poor, poor Rebecca Luker. She's such a fantastic singer and spirited actress that it's a shame to see her saddled with the matronly role of Winifred Banks. What should be a kooky character, Mrs. Banks has been reduced to nothing more than a frumpy party poop. She hurls a wet blanket over every scene she's in, and god help the audience when she bursts into her anything-but-rousing anti-ballad "Being Mrs. Banks." It's at this point that the audience begins to fall asleep, starting with the back row and moving forward.
The supporting performances range from dreadfully dull to woefully hammy. Jane Carr as the cook is particularly grating, as she punctuates every word with an exclamation point. Going through her script, one would likely find she had underlined every word.
Don't even get me started on the “special” effects. "Feed the Birds," perhaps the loveliest song in the entire Disney canon, is reduced to a joke when accompanied by a flock of Power Point birds. They look like something designed in a fifth grade computer class. Of course this is Mary Poppins and she must fly; however, her flights are far too brief and made even more cumbersome by the fact that she appears to be hoisted up on an awkward (and very visible) system of pulleys. You can practically hear the stage hands grunting backstage as they yank her up.
And, oh boy, that set. It's huge. It's sturdy. It's there. And that's about all I can say about it.
The only saving grace is Gavin Lee as Bert. He's tremendous. Perhaps it's because his role is actually larger than Mary Poppins (or so it seems), but he has absolutely no trouble stealing the entire show. His whimsy and talent drives the messy production forward, like a sport utility vehicle maneuvering through a mudslide. It helps that his role is more-or-less the lead, as it's he who always sets everything into motion. While it's a treat to see Mr. Lee onstage, the fact that he's what you remember most fondly after the finale does not bode well for the show. But that's what you get when you have him tap dancing on the ceiling and Mary Poppins turning to petrified wood stage right.
The clunky and misguided book is to blame for most of this musical's misfortune. But with so many (supposedly) talented people involved, so much money at stake, and such precious source material, it's heartbreaking that this Mary Poppins is nothing more than a third wheel the entire audience cannot wait to shake off. Then again, in a city as loud and exhausting as New York City, some people might not mind paying $100 for a nap. That’s what the man on my right did.
I hear the tour has remedied some of these problems. "Temper, Temper" was eliminated. The set was vastly downsized, which is a very good thing. And there's no Ashley Brown this time around. I hope this version is better than the one I saw, but I won't be finding out. I'll pop in the movie instead. It's practically perfect in every way.
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