No Pears

   If I may, I'd like to warn you of spoilers in this post. The reading of this post would hamper the enjoyment of the movie I am discussing. I hate that, but I wanted to talk about it, without holding back, so be warned. I actually wrote this post on Monday, the 13th, but was of a mind to delete it.  At any rate, here it is.
     Hey, everyone. It has been a cool, rainy day at the author's green retreat. Carley and I opted to venture forth into the wilds of society and go to a movie. To my chagrin, there was a limited number of films that called for my visual caress. Therefore, I rolled the dice for a film titled Saving Mr. Banks. What an odd show!
    I found it depressing in the extreme, thought provoking and entertaining. All at once. I would have gladly left the theater at the half-way point or even later. Yet I liked it. Here's the recipe.
    This is the story of Mary Poppins, in a way. It seems that the lady who wrote that story was pursued by Walt Disney for 20 years because Walt had promised to make it a movie, for his daughters. P.L. Travers (played by Emma Thompson) is the author and refuses to give up rights to the work unless she retains total control of the project. She is a pill to work with, or perhaps endure would be a better term, and the poor screenwriters who work with her are doubtless still in therapy. (Not speaking of Emma, but P.L. Travers.)
     Flashbacks are abundant in the film and here is the bone of contention for me. Not so much about the flashbacks in general but the depressing childhood that the woman endured. Her alcoholic father (played by Colin Farrell), is dying of influenza and frankly, is making life a burden for all his loved ones due to his drunkenness.
    I am, myself, a member of that expansive club consisting of those with miserable childhood baggage. This is the reason I would fain have left the premises. Yet, I would have to give the movie a probable four stars and Carley would have given it more than that. Let me brag on it a bit.
    Tom Hanks plays Walt Disney and nails his role. He takes the tightly-wound Mrs. Travers to Disneyland, puts her up at an expensive hotel in Beverly Hills, gives her a limousine with Paul Giamatti as driver. (I love Paul as an actor.) Nothing suits the lady, and I use that term kindly. She even wants the color red stricken from the film of Mary Poppins, wants Dick Van Dyke fired from the show and replaced with Lawrence Olivia and much more. Finally, Walt discerns that her tragic past is the heart of the problem and she will never know peace until she forgives herself or whatever. He shares with her some of his horrible childhood memories as well.
     I want to tell you about an early part of the show. When she arrives in California, P.L. Travers finds a nice fruitbasket in the room, along with scads of stuffed Disney creatures like Pooh and Mickey. The lady crams all of them in a closet. Except the fruit. The pears that were in the fruit basket, she removes and, walking to the balcony, throws the pears into the pool.
     Come to find out, when she was little, her father sent her out for some pears but when she returned her dad was dead. So, she couldn't abide the sight of a pear.
      At the time of this story,Mrs. Travers was about to be kicked out of her house and lose everything. She had written nothing in 20 years. Disney really helped her out of a hole. More importantly, she broke free from the bondage of sadness and depression into a new, more vibrant life. She began to write again and even went to the premier of 'her' movie. As I watched her at the premiere, I felt really odd about the show. I heard a lot of sniffles and snotting in the darkness of the theater. When it finished, they played the original recording of Mrs. Travers berating the screen writers. Quite harsh. No one went to the exits for several minutes.
      Many of us have our quirks and obstacles to overcome. Often, at a critical time during our personal or professional life they may crop up to hamper our success. If someone were to offer to make your book into a movie today, would you, by chance, say "No Pears"? Or could you lay all your spectres to rest until you finished the deal and tasted the sweet fruits of your labor? Would you sit in your lonely house or would you go to a premiere? It is my earnest wish that you would not rail at the pears, or your dad's foibles, but arise from the ashes of your youth.
    Superbly acted and directed, I recommend this film to you. If you like sad tales... and uplifting ones.
    I'm CE Wills. When you really want to be depressed, I'll share my own pears. Ha, ha. Good night.