Walt Disney: You look at me and you see some kind of Hollywood King Midas. You think I've built and empire and I want your Mary Poppins as just another brick in my kingdom.
P.L. Travers: And don't you?
Walt Disney: Now, if that's all it was, would I have suckered up to a stubborn, cranky dame like you for twenty years? No, I'd have saved myself an ulcer.
Don DaGradi: We were hoping to give you a little tour of the studio.
P.L. Travers: No, thank you.
Don DaGradi: Walt just wanted to show the place off.
P.L. Travers: No one likes a show-off.
Walt Disney: I have my own Mr. Banks. Mine had a mustache.
P.L. Travers: (sarcastically) So it's not true that Disney created man in his own image?
Walt Disney: No, but it is true that you created yourself in someone else, yes?
Walt Disney: It's not the children she comes to save. It's their father. It's YOUR father, Travers Goff.
Travers Goff: This world is just an illusion, Ginty, ol' 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, Ginty. It'll bite you on the bottom.
(last lines)(the authentic recordings of the rehearsals are being played on tape)
P.L. Travers: Now, who's reading? And go slowly.
Don DaGradi: You start and I'll take over.
Robert Sherman: "Autumn. In the early part of the 20th century, 1910. London. At Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane, the Banks household is in an uproar."
P.L. Travers: Hold it. 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 DaGradi: "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..." Well, first she says, "What kind of material have we got to work with?"
P.L. Travers: No, no. That, we cannot have. That would be quite un-English.
Richard Sherman: Mrs. Travers, basically what we want to do here is use pretty much what you have in the book.
P.L. 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.
Richard Sherman: Mmm-hmm.
P.L. Travers: And I think it would be very nice.
Don DaGradi: "At the end of the chorus..."
P.L. Travers: Read me all that, now.
Don DaGradi: We were going to.
P.L. Travers: Read it. No, no. You read it.
Don DaGradi: Do you want to bear us?
P.L. Travers: No. Go on.
Don DaGradi: This is torture!
P.L. Travers: Now, go on. "At the end of the chorus..." There ought perhaps to have been people in this countryside, 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? Because I think it's important. I'm not going to do this film unless I'm available for it.
Robert Sherman: Well, there are these tapes also, you know.
P.L. Travers: No, it's not enough.
Robert Sherman: We, uh... We have to feel the impact of it.
P.L. 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.
(the tape ends)
(Travers sees Disney character plush dolls in her room, including one of Winnie the Pooh)
P.L. Travers: Poor A. A. Milne.
Ralph: The sun came out again.
P.L. Travers: You say it like you're surprised, for goodness sake! It's California! I would much rather be accountable for the rain.
Ralph: That's sad.
P.L. Travers: Sad is entirely the wrong emotion! I shan't bother explaining why.
P.L. Travers: The rain gives life!
Ralph: So does the sun.
P.L. Travers: Be quiet!
(Travers and Disney are at Disneyland, and Travers is on a carousel horse)
Walt Disney: The boys have had an idea for your Mr. Banks. I think it'll make you happy.
P.L. Travers: You brought me all the way out here to tell me that?
Walt Disney: No. I brought you all the way out here for monetary gain. Had a wager with the boys that I couldn't get you on a ride. I just won twenty bucks!
(Travers gives Ralph a list of people to his handicapped daughter, Jane)
Ralph: "Albert Einstein, Van Gogh, Roosevelt, Frida Kahlo" - What is this?
P.L. Travers: They all had difficulties. Jane can do anything that anyone else can do, do you understand?
P.L. Travers: Look on the back.
Ralph: (turns it over) "Walt Disney."
P.L. Travers: Deficiencies in concentration and hyperactive behavior. Explains everything!
Walt Disney: "No whimsy or sentiment!" says the woman who sends a flying nanny with a talking umbrella to save the children.
P.L. Travers: You think Mary Poppins is saving the children, Mr. Disney?
(Walt and the other filmmakers are stunned silent)
P.L. Travers: Oh, dear!
P.L. Travers: (reading the script) 'Scene one, exterior, Seventeen Cherry Tree Lane, Day.' Yes, that's good. That can stay.
Richard Sherman: That's just a scene heading.
P.L. Travers: Though I do think we should say 'Number Seventeen,' instead of just 'Seventeen.'
Don DaGradi, Robert Sherman: No one's going to see it!
P.L. Travers: *I* will see it.
Walt Disney: I've fought this battle from her side. Pat Powers, he wanted the mouse and I didn't have a bean back then. He was this big terrifying New York producer and I was just a kid from Missouri with a sketch of Mickey, but it would've killed me to give him up. Honest to God, killed me. That mouse, he's family.
Walt Disney: (preparing tea) And a spoonful of sugar?
P.L. Travers: No, I think I'll have whiskey.
Walt Disney: Have you ever been to Kansas City, Mrs. Travers? Do you know Missouri at all?
P.L. Travers: I can't say I do.
Walt Disney: 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 eight back then, just eight years old. And, like I said, winters are harsh, and Old Elias, he didn't believe in new shoes until the old ones were worn through. And 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 the 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 and wet to figure out equations and things. And then it was back out in the know 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'd 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."
(Travers looks noticeably unsettled by his story)
Walt Disney: 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. We 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, buy don't you want to finish the story? Let is 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.
P.L. Travers: I don't know what you think you know about me, Walter...
Walt Disney: You must have loved and admired him a lot to take his name. 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.
P.L. Travers: I don't have to forgive my father. He was a wonderful man.
Walt Disney: No... you need to forgive Helen Goff. Life is a harsh sentence to lay down for yourself.
Ralph: Welcome, Mrs. P.L. Travers, to the city of angels.
P.L. Travers: It smells... of...
P.L. Travers: Chlorine, and sweat.
P.L. Travers: (on finding a first name for Mrs. Banks) I will not have her called Cynthia, absolutely not. It feels unlucky. It should be something warm, a bit sexy. How about Mavis?
(Travers sees Robert Sherman walk out of the room with a cane)
P.L. Travers: What is wrong with his leg?
Richard Sherman: He got shot.
P.L. Travers: Hardly surprising.
Travers Goff: (voiceover) Winds in the east / Mist coming in / Like something is brewing / About to begin / Can't put me finger / On what lies in store / But I feel what's to happen / All happened before.
P.L. Travers: No, no, no, no, no! "Responstible" is not a word!
Richard Sherman: We made it up.
P.L. Travers: Well, un-make it up.
Richard Sherman: (quickly hides sheet music to "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.")
P.L. Travers: (shoving plush dolls of Donald and Goofy into her hotel closet) Dog... duck... gone!
Walt Disney, Richard Sherman: (singing) My world was calm, well ordered, exemplary / Then came this person, with chaos in her wake /And now my life's ambitions go with one fell blow / It's quite a bitter pill to take.
Walt Disney: Inspired by someone we know?
Richard Sherman: (feigning innocence) You'd have to ask Bob.
P.L. Travers: You're the only American I've ever liked, Ralph.
Ralph: Oh... Well, may I ask why?
P.L. Travers: No.
Don DaGradi: (to Travers) so this is the rest of your team, Dick and Bob Sherman! Music and lyrics.
(to the Shermans)
Don DaGradi: Boys, this is the one and only Mrs. P.L. Travers, the creator of our beloved Mary!
P.L. Travers: Poppins!
Don DaGradi: Who else?
P.L. Travers: Mary Poppins. Never ever just Mary.
(to the Shermans)
P.L. Travers: A pleasure to meet you, though I fear we shan't be acquainted for too long.
Robert Sherman: Excuse me?
P.L. Travers: These books simply do not lend themselves to chirping and prancing. No. Certainly not a musical. Now, where is Mister Disney? I'd very much like to get this started and finished as briskly as is humanly possible.