During
the recent holidays I took my nine- and seven-year-old granddaughters to see
Mary Poppins Returns. In anticipation, them with popcorn in hand, one asked why
we were there so early, the other answering her question, to be prepared. “At
some movies, there’s a line-up of people,” I said.
Indeed
the popcorn was disappearing into their mouths as we waited to get into the
theatre. We talked about other movies going on there and about waiting until
the staff was done getting the space ready. (How much popcorn lay on the
floor?) It seemed like we were the only ones at that door, a bit surprising
after all the previews for this movie.
The
clean-up was done; we could go in. We’d talked about where we’d sit — not too
close to the screen or at the back. Now it was time for them to choose the row.
One wanted the aisle seat and so we found our place. Here we sat in a quiet and
empty theatre, me and my granddaughters. They wondered if others were coming. I
said I was sure more would come and speculated that the theatre might not be
full (which turned out to be true). Most of their popcorn and drink was gone by
that time. The girls had counted rows and seats across the middle. I didn’t
expect them to sit still just yet or to be perfectly quiet. The popcorn and drinks
diminished even more. Would we have to make an exit to the washroom in the
middle of the movie? No, it happened before, while previews played and the
feature was not yet begun.
One
asked if the movie would be scary. I said, “I don’t think so, but if it is,
close your eyes and hold my hand.” She nodded her head, that was okay.
Other
people came in, snacks and drinks in hand. Women who may have seen the first
Mary Poppins in the ‘60s, and a family in front of us with children the same
age and younger as my granddaughters, maybe with a grandma in charge, like me. As
far as I could tell there might have been no more than 30 people in the theatre
by the time the feature began. Perhaps we didn’t need to come so early.
I
wanted to see the movie just as much as the girls did. I’d seen the previews
and the original on television and was glad we could come together. We weren’t
disappointed.
I loved the music from the start. The
characters were intriguing, the story of a family challenged without a mother
and the home in need of repairs. To make things worse, two men knock on the
door, giving the father only days to come up with mortgage money he owed the
bank.
I
won’t spoil the story for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie, but I will tell you
that Mary Poppins returns, which of course is what the movie centres on. In one
scene, the children had just awoken from a disturbing dream and miss their
mother who used to calm their fears.
This
is where Mary sings the song “The Place Where Lost Things Go.” It was sweet and
gentle, like a lullaby and it brought tears to my eyes. It’s where I thought of
my own Mom, so recently deceased, not lost as people often say, but not with us
in person anymore. It reminded me of so much, and the tears rolled down my
face. Still it was a gentle and peaceful song, that spoke of a loved one
looking on to see how they’re doing, yet not close beside them.
Near
the end, the younger one asked if the movie was nearly over. I suspected another
washroom trip was imminent by the wiggling around in her seat.
The
movie is well done with its animation, suspense, giddy and darker characters accompanied
by many playful and serious tunes. While I appreciated so many of the songs, “The
Place Where Lost Things Go” remains my favourite so that I had to look it up
and listen to it again and again.
What’s
my take-away? It’s fun to suspend reality for a while and enjoy a good movie
with my granddaughters. But also, that what we miss, what feels lost, maybe
isn’t so far away. That comfort is ours to be had, in the words of friends who
care, in the knowledge that one day we will again be reunited with those who’ve
gone “beyond the clouds.” Child-like perhaps, simplistic for sure, but
sometimes it’s just what we need.
Carolyn R. Wilker is an editor, author and storyteller from southwestern Ontario, Canada.
