After another nanny quits, a frustrated George Banks takes it upon himself to find a good, and most importantly, British au pair. This task can no longer be left to his wife as she’s a woman, constantly fighting for women’s rights blah blah blah. Silly woman, Mr Banks thinks.
The children, Michael who’s possibly the worst actor there has ever existed, and Jane who is clearly heading to a promiscuous life to fill her heart (and vagina) with the love she never got from Daddy, sing their way into suggesting possible traits for a new nanny.
“Rosy cheeks, no warts, play games, all sorts.” The children sing. “Never be cross or cruel. Never give us Castor oil or gruel”. “What the fuck are you talking about?” interrupts their Father. “Firstly, why say she can’t give you castor oil? That’s a given. Why not also say she can’t shit on your chest. The list is endless!” This infuriates George Banks so he slaps his children, which was OK in olden times. Secondly, I’m paying her wages so I choose who I’ll hire. She has to be British. I’m serious about that. No immigrants in my house! he says as he throws their list of ridiculous demands into the chimney, sweeping their ripped pieces into the air.
After putting an advert in The Daily Mail, a queue of Caucasian nannies wait outside the Banks home, but a large gust of wind sweeps them all away, leaving four dead and two gravely injured. It seems as though there’ll be nobody to take care of the kids, but thankfully, a lady in a long coat waving an umbrella about shouting “I’m flying. I’m flying! Wooo!” appears from behind a bush.
Before knocking on the door, Mary takes out a small bottle from her pocket, opens the cap and takes in all that lovely smell stored inside. “Wooooo!”
Mr. Banks opens the door. “Hello are you here for the nanny position?” Mary pulls out an 80’s style boombox out of her bottomless bag and plays ‘Sandstorm’ by Darude and begins to waves one hand in the air as if she was stacking imaginary shelves, while the other pulls out a glow stick. This goes on until the beat slows down. Enough time to reveal the whistle she has attached on her neckless. She blows it a few times as the song crescendos. She pushes Mr. Banks out of the way and gets on a table and dances while she fingers neon paint on her face. This is exactly what Michael & Jane asked for. “Are you ready?” the nanny shouts over the trance music. Mr Banks slams the stop button on the boombox. “That’s enough of this Finnish DJ!” The nanny jumps off the table and introduces herself. “Hello. I’m Mary Poppers, and don’t worry, I’m British. I got this!” Speechless, Mr Banks goes to work, leaving his children with the new sweaty nanny.
It’s time to clean the children’s room. In every job that must be done there is an element of fun. You find the fun, and snap, the job’s a game. She pulls a bag of snowy powder from out of her bag and smells the contents. “Just a spoonful of…. “sugar” helps… Wooooo! Clean the room children. Just clean it!” She treats the children to some of the “sugar” and they clean the fuck out of it. LET’S GO TO THE PARK! “Yeah” the children exclaim. “That’s really interesting… You got any more?”
At the park, they meet American cockney chimney sweep Bert who’s drawing on the floor. “Let’s go in the painting!” He yells, since losing most of his hearing from standing to close to speakers at raves. “What you got?” sniffs Mary. He pulls out four small squares of what looks like paper. “Here kids, stick that on your tongue.” Within minutes, they’re in the painting dancing with penguins. The colours are vibrant. Nothing’s moving like normal. Time seems to be bent out of shape. Michael stares at his hands. Jane is laying in the mud looking up at the way the leaves dance. Mary & Bert makes faces at each other. “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” whispers Mary. “What the fuck are you talking about?” replies Bert. They both burst out laughing. “You’re weird”
After what seems like two weeks, but was just 6 hours. They’re all a bit more chilled out and talk about their place in the universe and how we’re all one.
The gang then visit Uncle Albert. As they open the door, a tidal wave of laughter and smoke bellows out from his hot boxed apartment. The gang walk in almost instantaneously feeling hungry, except Michael who Bert thinks is still stuck in the painting. Uncle Albert is so high he’s floating on the ceiling. “Hey there. Ha ha ha. Why don’t you, hoo hoo hoo, join me up he he he here?” He says tapping the ash from his joint. Bert grabs the nearby 1/2 litre translucent Cream Whipper aluminium bottle, four canisters, an four balloons which he fills with the chemical element He He He. The gang inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale and repeat, except for Michael who stares at himself in a nearby mirror. They burst out with unexplained laughter and float up to the ceiling, They all laugh up there, with this new friend. But Jane then notices her brother passed out on the floor. “Oh shit!” Mary Poppers exclaims “I think it’s time we go home. Boring.”
The gang get home to find an angry Mr. Banks. Angry at the state of the house is in. Angry that his comatose son is in the arms of Bert, an immigrant. Angry. “Take a chill pill” says Mary, and kisses Mr Banks, unaware that she did indeed have a pill on her tongue to give to him. Boom! They’re all passing a water of bottle around as they dance to music they don’t know. They don’t need to know. What they do know is “This is a fucking tune!” yells Mr Banks, grinding his teeth. Jane and Bert make out in the corner, horny as hell, while Mary’s taken her top off and swinging it around. They all dance, loving the feeling that strangers, with such different views of the World, can come together with a spoonful of MDMA. They all cuddle with sweating skin. Except Michael, who’s skin turns blue as he dies in the corner to the sound of the YMCA.
CLASSIC LINES FROM THE FILM
“Chim Chiminy, Chim Chiminy, Chim Chim Chiree…. I think I’m having a stroke!”
“What the hell is a tuppence?”
“Kite’s can already fly as they’re part of the Acciptirdae family of birds, you dumb bitch”
The actress playing Mary was methadone acting.
Mr Banks was named Mr Banks because he worked in a banks. Bert’s last name was Chimney.
Bert & Jane were married soon after the movie. Although they had to travel to Thailand for legal reasons.
WHAT THE CRITICS SAID
“This movie will really teach children the importance of getting good shit on the streets” – High Times Magazine
“ “ – Mime Monthly
“It is really important to get a British nanny. British is best.” Nigel Farage
WRITTEN BY ERIC LAMPAERT