Too many spoonfuls of sugar “Saving Mr. Banks” (PG-13), DIRECTED BY JOHN LEE HANCOCK NOW PLAYING
“At Berkeley” (NR), DIRECTED BY FREDERICK WISEMAN SCREENS FRIDAY AT THE DRYDEN [ REVIEW ] BY ADAM LUBITOW
overselling worthless paper; he pays a secretary $10,000 to have her head shaved in front of the whole firm and in one precious moment, he and his partners discuss the rules of dwarf-tossing, a betting game they play in the film. The movie runs three hours, lengthened by far too many repeated scenes of Belfort exhorting his people to make even more millions, showing off his $40,000 watch, his $5,000 suit, tearing up $100 bills for confetti, and simply glorying in an entirely disgusting display of joyful greed. Matching the excessiveness of the subject, the actors, including DiCaprio, play their parts with considerable exaggeration; in one relatively brief sequence, Matthew McConaughey turns in a wonderfully quirky performance, advising Belfort that the keys to success are cocaine and masturbation. Distressingly, especially for a Scorsese picture, “The Wolf of Wall Street” establishes no moral center, barely hinting at the smug, audacious criminality of Belfort’s work — he served time in prison — and never mentioning the lives he ruined. Nor does the script even hint at the continuing illegality of what a Republican presidential aspirant called vulture capitalism. Worst of all, it seems highly likely that the glamorous presentation of stock fraud and its benefits for its practitioners — the expensive luxuries, the untrammeled decadence, the wallowing in sex and drugs, the jubilant celebrations of sheer greed — will inspire a whole new generations to seek an MBA and a job on Wall Street.
It is often said that history is written by the victors, and that viewpoint goes a long way in explaining the slightly bitter taste left in my mouth by “Saving Mr. Banks,” John Lee Hancock’s (“The Blind Side”) otherwise charming retelling of the behind-the-scenes battle to make Disney’s “Mary Poppins.” It’s expected that liberties will be taken with the facts in any film that claims to be “based on a true story,” but there’s something vaguely distasteful about Disney setting out to tell its own triumphant story of gaining the rights to “Poppins” from its reluctant author. The film begins just after P.L. Travers (Emma Thompson) has finally agreed to fly from Britain to Los Angeles in order meet with Walt Disney (Tom Hanks). Their meeting is the culmination of Disney’s 20-year pursuit of the rights to “Mary Poppins,” and the author has finally relented because, frankly, she needs the money. She is invited to act
Tom Hanks and Emma Thompson in “Saving Mr. Banks.” PHOTO COURTESY WALT DISNEY PICTURES
as consultant on the film, meeting with screenwriter Don DaGradi (Bradley Whitford) and songwriters Richard and Robert Sherman (Jason Schwartzman and B.J. Novak) as they negotiate with her exactly what changes they’ll be allowed to make to her story. She’s adamant that Mary Poppins not be turned into one of Disney’s “silly cartoons.” Scenes of their planning sessions, in which Travers refuses to budge, making occasionally ridiculous demands (at one point insisting that the color red be removed from the movie completely), alternate with flashbacks to the author’s childhood in Australia growing up with a doting, but deeply depressed, father (played with charm by Colin Farrell). Writers Kelly Marcel and Sue Smith offer up the explanation (based on one hypothesis put forth in Valerie Lawson’s biography of Travers, “Mary Poppins, She Wrote”) that the author’s reluctance to part with her creation was the result of a lack of closure in her relationship with her father, who was so inspirational to her writing. This clearcut interpretation is symptomatic of the film’s need to iron out the nuances of the story it sets out to tell. Though we know how things must inevitably turn out, giving up creative control of her work being a therapeutic process for Travers seems far too tidy. As is the way the film makes sure to end with the film’s premiere, conveniently avoiding the fact that Travers was vocal in her displeasure with the finished product. So many things about “Saving Mr. Banks” feel calculated, from cringeinducing moments like Mickey Mouse himself taking Travers’ hand to escort her into the premiere, right on down to the fact that the film’s opening has been timed to coincide with the 50th anniversary Blu-ray release of “Mary Poppins.” This all sounds like I’m being overly hard on the film, which admittedly gets a lot of things right, namely Emma Thompson’s wonderful performance as P.L. Travers. In her hands, the author is prickly, with a
sharp tongue, but a sadness behind her eyes hints at a life that has known more than its share of disappointments. She captures the heartbreak and doubt that comes with giving up control of a work that’s deeply personal. Hanks does a fine job as Walt Disney, alternately warm and exasperated. But while the script allows him moments that show Disney was first and foremost a businessman, like almost everything in the film, it doesn’t probe any deeper. Worlds away from the beer bongs and hazing rituals typically associated with films about college life, Fred Wiseman’s sprawling “At Berkeley” immerses us in life at one of the country’s most renowned public institutes of higher learning. Utilizing his strictly observational style (it’s refreshing in the current climate of documentary features that too often tell you exactly what to think), the filmmaker trains his cameras on the lecture halls, theaters, research labs, stadiums, and boardrooms of the University of California campus, allowing us to see first-hand how every aspect of the school functions. Filmed in 2010 during a tumultuous time of budget cuts and tuition increases, with state funding providing only 16 percent of the school’s massive $1.9 billion budget, we sit in on meetings with administrators as they scramble to figure out how to make up the difference while still delivering on the promise of a world-class education. The exhaustive (and sometimes exhausting) film reveals itself to be a compelling examination of the state of our country’s educational system, as it shows the rippling effects these cuts have on life at the university. It all culminates in a student-led protest for lowered tuition rates, and the suspense comes from having seen first-hand why those demands are all but impossible to meet. The four-hour runtime may be daunting, but the engrossing classroom debates that eventually spill out into the real world prove as thrilling as any car chase or shootout in the best summer blockbuster.
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