Tom Hanks, lovable to no end, is a terrible Walt Disney. This isn't to say that his performance is atrocious, because it's really quite good. He's just not Walt Disney.
The build is off. The mustache just isn't right. His voice doesn't have the thunder of Disney's. Altogether, it's best to see Saving Mr. Banks — in which Hanks plays the famous Disneyland creator — without looking at or listening to the real Walt Disney before or after your screening. That being said, the movie gets huge validation elsewhere in the plot: in the closing credits. More on that later.
Saving Mr. Banks, directed by Disney sub-contractor John Lee Hancock, tells the story of the making of Mary Poppins. Now, movies are typically fraught with pre-production peril (please see Baadasssss! Mario Van Peebles' own movie-on-movie tirade at Hollywood's production cycle), so it comes as no surprise that Disney struggled to get the 1964 Julie Andrews musical off the ground. It is surprising, however, to see where Disney was snagged up: Mary Poppins' creator, author P.L. Travers.
Travers (here played by Emma Thompson), begrudgingly agrees to fly to Anaheim to meet with Disney about signing over the rights to her famous book. She's a lovely lady, full of charm and whimsy, just like her characters, warm and tender like a summer's morning glow. Actually, no that's a lie. She's bitter and petty, and her creations seemed to have sprung from a part of her personality that died long ago. On the plane ride over the pond, she says silently to herself, "I hope it crashes" — she's talking about the plane, not the upcoming meeting. When she gets to her hotel, she has to imprison the Disney plush toys in the closet before she can even unpack.
Travers’s first trip to the studio is quite simply disastrous. The storyboards are wrong, the concept art is wrong, the dialogue is wrong, the industry-standard abbreviations on the script are wrong … nothing is as she wants it. She pushes around Disney’s pre-production team — Bradley Whitford, B.J. Novak and Jason Schwartzman, all playing prominent Disney behind-the-scenes men — like a little dictator with petulant streak of entitlement. No one, including the all-powerful Disney himself, can argue with her because, after all, she still owns the rights to her umbrella-riding nanny, and she won’t relinquish the film rights until the movie is to her liking. One of her early decrees is especially broad: remove the color red from the entire film.
Travers' God-like arrangement means Disney must cave on some points, like chimney sweep Bert’s romantic interest in Mary Poppins. Other things, like his insistence on songs and several animated sequences, those he won’t cave on. Walt is a singular force and even fights back. Saving Mr. Banks, itself a Disney movie, certainly glorifies Walt’s character, but there was much to like with the visionary so it’s not a total stretch. The movie hints at his vices, including his smoking: Travers walks in on him puffing away, “Don’t want to promote my bad habits,” he says as he stamps out his Lucky Strike. The film was under contract to not show him inhaling. His other vices, including his reported anti-semitism, are not addressed. The picture has all kinds of other interesting tidbits, including Disney making late-night song requests from his writers; he apparently never tired from some of his films' music. Another nice touch: Travers' stubborn kindness to her endearing chauffeur (played by Paul Giamatti).
Before I continue, let me share this: I love movies about movies. They’re just fascinating, mostly because we have the final movie as a footnote to everything we’re watching. This one is exceptionally fun, from Disney’s stubborn reign to Travers’ eventual acceptance of the songs when she sings and dances to “Let’s Go Fly a Kite.” But I’m not telling you everything. The movie jumps back and forth in time: from Disney Studios in the 1960s to Australia in the early 20th century, when a little girl named Helen Goff had a very troubling time with her alcoholic father. The father (played by Colin Farrell) is mesmerized by the world, but can't seem to grasp its broader intricacies. He will later inspire the Mr. Banks character in Mary Poppins.
These scene are important in establishing the ultimate motivation behind many of Mary Poppins more integral figures, but Saving Mr. Banks routinely comes to a screeching halt when the flashbacks hijack the charm. One scene with the father drunkenly speaking at a fair is supremely cringeworthy. Much of this frustration can be traced to the Disney scenes, which are so interesting that any flashback would suffer by comparison. That being said, I think audiences will relate equally to both time periods; at least, more than me. I preferred the movie-making sequences.
Saving Mr. Banks is not perfect, but it certainly is enjoyable and, at times, moving. Hanks and Thompson are delightful, even if Hanks is a mediocre Disney stand-in. The best part, though, are those end credits. As they begin to roll, a tape player fills the screen and we get to hear the actual audio of Travers' first day running through the Mary Poppins script. The movie does not invent her snottiness. If anything it downplays it.
