Nanny
McPhee is the sort of movie that you should watch immediately after Hostel or
Capote, just to restore the balance of humanity in your brain, a “malice
cleanser.” Nobody needs to lie in bed and ponder the finer points of Hostel.
Nanny McPhee was written and performed by Emma Thompson, a Mary Poppins-esque
pleaser for both young and old, drawn from the Nurse Matilda books by Christianna
Brand.
Like
Mary Poppins, McPhee seems to appear from the heavens when needed and vanish when
her work is done. Unlike Poppins, Nanny McPhee is hardly the sort of woman to
give single men fantasies of jolly holidays in a watercolor wonderland. With her
bulbous prosthetic nose, hairy warts, a single bucktooth, she’s kind of a
Clem Kadiddlehopper in a modest dress, with a magic way with the youngsters.
McPhee’s
services become necessary when a family of seven (3 boys and 4 girls) lose their
mother, leaving their father (Colin Firth) so heartbroken and beside himself that
he’s wholly unable to keep tabs on the emotional needs of the kids, who have
reacted to the loss of their mother by becoming incorrigible hellions. The movie
opens with their former Nanny dashing from the house in hysterics, eventually
to report that the children had eaten the baby. At this point I certainly had
no idea what sort of business I’d got myself and my family into, but as it
turns out, the kids have simply dressed a chicken in the toddlers clothes and
given the poor woman all she could take.
Enter
Nanny McPhee, who seems unaware of her disconcerting appearance and sets about
fixing these Brit brats who we know are decent youngsters acting out in the only
way they know. McPhee’s manner is less strict and proper as her famous precursor,
but she does have her magic ways. For example the children decide to play hooky
one day, all claiming to be too ill to manage to get out of bed. In one of the
funnier sequences McPhee casts a spell on the kids that holds them fast to their
beds, in spite of their most vigorous efforts to rise and shine.
McPhee
sags a bit in the second half, when the plot shifts to the plight of father Firth
whose financial straits have gotten him into an unenviable pickle. In order to
keep the household from going under, he must approach his imperious and crotchety
aunt Adelaide (Angela Lansbury) hat in hand, to ask for temporary assistance.
As it turns out her financial support comes with some awfully unthinkable conditions.
She insists that Firth re-marry within a month or the cash flow will cease. Sadly
the only eligible bride for miles is a frigid and miserable widow by the name
of Selma Quickly. Not only is she cold and nasty but she also happens to despise
children.
Thus
with the classic showdown so arranged, it remains to be seen just how the scenario
with play itself out. Naturally the children want nothing to do with the garish
shrew of a woman, for their father or themselves, but what are they to do? Turn
to their newest friend and savior Nanny McPhee of course. With the ball in Nanny’s
court, I’ll leave you to guess how the dreadful crisis works itself out.
Nanny McPhee is an easy film to recommend, there are plenty of strong messages
and lessons all, of course, administered with a spoonful of sugar. So by all means
do yourself a favor and load the kids in the minivan and head for the local multi-plex
for the answer lies within and I shall never tell.
Kirk
Jones directs here, his first effort in nearly eight years when he directed the
popular Irish hit Waking Ned Devine. Credit Jones with not only getting wonderful
performances out of the children, but remarkably strong and sincere work out of
the adult cast - which also includes Imelda Staunton, Kelly Macdonald and Celia
Imrie. The storybook fantasy feel of the film is given a big assist by Michael
Howell’s production. Lots of bold primary colors liven a set well photographed
by Henry Braham. Much credit for the charm of the film belongs to Emma Thomson
for her lively and wit-filled script. Nanny McPhee is pure magic from soup to
nuts and a highly recommended night out for the whole family.
