In honor of the 50th anniversary of the premiere of Mary Poppins, I thought Id re-post the following piece about one of my fondest memories from the iconic movie (I was 7 when it came out). Enjoy. MOVIE MAGIC I recently recounted a story from my childhood and I was asked to jot it down. My dad, Robert B. Sherman was half of the beloved songwriting/screenwriting team known as the Sherman Brothers. They worked closely for many years with Walt Disney and other famous filmmakers including Albert “Cubby” Broccoli, Arthur P. Jacobs, Charles Shultz and many, many more. Together with my uncle, Richard M. Sherman, dad wrote original song scores for more than fifty motion pictures including “Mary Poppins,” “The Jungle Book,” “Winnie the Pooh,” “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” and, well, more wonderful titles than I can list here. They also wrote countless popular songs, songs for television and theater and many of the anthems we hear at Disneyland and all the Disney parks. Many say that Dad and Dick wrote the soundtracks to their childhood -‐-‐ and now their children’s and grandchildren’s. They certainly wrote the songs to mine. It was always cool to be in the Sherman family, I must admit. I would hear all of those songs before they were famous on the acetates and reel to reel demos my dad would bring home after work. My sisters Laurie, Tracy and I would stage dance numbers to the whimsical tunes and, after dinner, we’d giddily bounce around the room for Mom and Dad. I had no idea at the time, but it wasn’t a normal household, to be sure. When you pressed our doorbell -‐-‐ or my uncle’s -‐-‐ it played “It’s a Small World.” People always ask me questions about my family life, about my dad -‐-‐ especially when my cousin Gregg Sherman and I made the documentary on our dads a couple of years ago (“the boys: the sherman brothers’s story”). What was he like? What was our home-‐life like. Bob Sherman was a terrific dad. Even as he worked up from being a struggling songwriter in the 50’s to co-‐creating some of the most iconic, world-‐famous family films and songs of the 60’s and beyond, Dad remained down to earth, humble, soft spoken; a gentleman. He’d come home from a long day of work and toss my baseball glove to me and we’d play catch till it got too dark outside to see. He was also a Renaissance Man -‐-‐ created all kinds of art in other media -‐-‐ metal sculpture, painting, stained glass, etc... Mom, too, was a talented artist and both their pieces were displayed all over the house. It was enchanted. Who was Dad? I tried to capture him in the documentary. As I’ve said many times, if you want to know who my late Dad was, how he looked at the world, he tells you honestly and simply right in the lyrics to his songs. “Though his words are simple and few, Listen, listen, he’s calling to you...” One of the other ‘percs’ of being the son of Bob Sherman was that I got to go with him quite a bit to recording sessions and film shoots. Probably the first big movie I got to see first hand was “Mary Poppins.” I was about six years old and it was so exciting to finally get to see all the magic my Dad had told me were in the works, based on that book he’d read Laurie and me when we were little. I’d heard and watched the songs go from Dick’s scratch demos to fully orchestrated, gorgeous pieces. Irwin Kostal who arranged and conducted the score was a genius. What I hadn’t yet seen, though, were the sound stages. Dad explained that while the movie was all set in London, England, it was all being shot at the Disney lot in Burbank California. I’d been to the lot on many occasions already and had met Walt Disney in passing a handful of times. Walt was amazing in that he remembered my name each time and would say hello. I understand that he knew all his employees by name and also recalled their families’ names once they’d met. For months, Dad had excitedly detailed for me all the incredible sets that were being built on the lot. Every single sound stage at Disney Studios was dedicated to Mary Poppins at the time. He took me out of school one day so he could take me on the grand tour. We saw all the storyboards, then went to the massive Stage 2 where Cherry Tree Lane had been constructed full scale! It was pretty cool -‐ reminded me of Disneyland. (Years later, I worked on “Boy Meets World” on the same stage). I met Julie Andrews in her makeup robe. Dad took me to see the entry hall of the Banks’ home, the tea party on the ceiling set, the carousel (which was backed by a green screen -‐ it seems to me it was yellow, though). Last stop was the rooftops of London. I’d heard the track for “Step in Time,” I tried to picture it but, honestly, I was less than impressed. Sets are cool, but something was missing for me. As a chubby ‘foodie’ kid, one of my favorite parts of an outing to Disney Studios was sliding into a booth with Dad in the Coral Room, the executive dining room, and getting one of their sandwiches. I recall they were world-‐class. I was really looking forward to this day, when Walt walked up with some businessmen he was meeting for lunch there. He said, “Hello, Jeffrey!” He’d heard I was getting the soundstage tour and wanted to know what I thought. I responded, “It’s okay, I guess.” Walt got a big troubled frown on his face, put his hands on his hips. He knelt down to my eye level. I felt Dad’s hand go cold and limp -‐-‐ you know, that fish-‐hand you get as a kid and you know you’ve said something really wrong? That. Mr. Disney -‐-‐ the guy from the Sunday night show -‐-‐ looked me square in the eyes and wanted details. I kind of just shrugged. Walt took my hand and led me out of the commissary, ditching his banker-‐looking lunch mates. Passing the ping pong tables, back toward one of the sound stages, Walt asked me what was wrong with what I’d seen. I explained they just didn’t look magical; not the way my dad had described them. He took me into whichever stage housed the rooftops of London sets, turned on the work lights that ignited with a series of buzzes. I looked back at the large set we all now know from the “Step ‘N Time” number. It wasn’t lighted for camera, it bore tape marks and tools, it was dusty and looked fake to me. It just did. Walt asked what was wrong with his set. I said, I didn’t think people would believe it. Walt insisted that he’d had some of the finest artists in the world study and then re-‐create every detail of real London rooftops. I told Mr. Disney that the biggest problem I saw was that the rooftop stood only maybe three feet off the ground. Fake. Disney looked at me with that avuncular expression and started to heartily laugh. I thought I was in big trouble now. The guy who made and owned Disneyland was laughing at me. I think, in retrospect, he was just relieved. Knowing what I do about Walt, he deeply cared about every small aspect of everything he did. It even mattered to him what a dumb little kid thought of the sets for the biggest movie he ever made. Disney knelt by me again and formed his thumbs and forefingers into a square. He placed this up by my eyes and explained that this was the frame, this was all the camera and the audience would see. People in the theaters would never know that the rooftops of London were only a yard off the ground. “That’s called movie magic, Jeffrey. Now, you can never tell your friends.” I agreed and Mr. Disney led me back to the Coral Room where my Dad, no doubt, was sipping a tall scotch and wondering -‐-‐ a la Mr. Banks after the run on the bank in “Poppins” -‐ -‐ if his dimwitted son had gotten him “sacked.” I’m happy to report, it all worked out fine. My Dad brought it up a lot, but finally forgave me. That simple explanation that day, that moment generously provided by that lovely and legendary man and filmmaker, Walt Disney, changed my whole perception of film and creativity. It told me anything could be created with imagination, passion and knowhow. It set me on a course toward making my own ‘movie magic.’ Most people look at Disney as a big conglomerate. I always see it as the place that smiling, kneeling gentleman built to bring the best minds together and make his visions a reality -‐-‐ to bring joy to the world. It’s a very special, hallowed place. I’m proud to say that more than half of my professional career I’ve been working for Disney and its affiliates in movies, television and cable. I do miss my Dad and Walt, the ping pong tables and the Coral Room sandwiches though. Jeffrey C. Sherman 9/16/13
Posted on: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 07:17:42 +0000
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