I never once believed Hayley Mills as the daughter of Dorothy McGuire and sister of Eddie Hodges and James Mathers with her obvious British accent downing any realism of these four in the family way. While in "The Parent Trap", it worked for her uppercrust Boston girl, she also made it more subtle for her California girl who grew up in the great outdoors, not in a wealthy neighborhood. Even though the film opens up in Boston ("Time: Rag", the title says in a very clever observation), she is the only one in the family who has that accent, and while McGuire's voice is very gentle, she is obviously not British. I had a good chuckle too at Mathers' "Buster Brown Bob" (as William Frawley once described it on the "Tallulah Bankhead" "I Love Lucy" episode when he was forced to wear a wig in the play within the TV show) and his "Little Lord Fauntleroy" outfit that reminded me of the nasty little cousin in "Tom Sawyer" and would certainly set off any small town kid, whether a bully or not, to beat him up on first sight. When they arrive in the small Maine town, he is indeed attacked for looking like a girl, and wisely sneaks in with the four kids who beat him up while trying to play "King of the Hill" to get his hair cut and exchange his clothes for more a more country appropriate outfit from the understanding Burl Ives.
This version of the Sally Benson story, "Mother Carey's Chickens", is a bit different than the 1930's RKO Radio version which starred Ruby Keeler and Anne Shirley, and very Disney-fied. In fact, it is films like this that show the certain look that Disney films had, both in their set-up, themes and characterizations, that no other studio would have. The basic premise of this musical comedy piece of Americana has Mills arranging to rent a house in Maine without her mother's knowledge and convincing her to move the family there where, like the Ingalls of "Little House on the Prairie", they seem to become the moral compass of the small town, even with the arrival of a much derided snooty cousin (Deborah Walley) who upsets Mills by stealing the affections of school teacher James Stacey. The heart and soul of this film squarely is split down the middle between the always lovely McGuire, finding another summer place and getting to sing (dubbed) the title song where the editors pull away footage from her and insert documentary footage of the countryside wildlife from one of their many documentaries and the always commanding Burl Ives. Married to the seemingly shrewish Una Merkel, Ives is an overly good natured soul who would give you the shirt off his back even if it was the middle of winter. Merkel wants to tell McGuire the truth about the house, that they were not permitted to rent it, and when the real owner (a very young Peter Brown) shows up, Ives has lots of 'splainin' to do.
As usual, Ives gets to sing a couple of folk songs, one extremely corny about "the ugly bug's ball" that once again splits away to show nature doing its thing. It's ironic that I watched this in a double bill with Disney's 1956 nature documentary "The Secrets of Life" which focused highly on the insect world, and found them to be a perfect double bill together. The Sherman Brothers' score, for the most part, is second rate when compared to "Mary Poppins" and "Bednobs & Broomsticks", with one song, "Femininity", rather lively as Mills (not sounding very good here) and Walley dress up Ives' tomboyish daughter (Wendy Turner) standing out among the rest. Michael J. Pollard, as Ives' oldest son, has very little to do but declare his desire to get out of this one buggy town where the minister's name is actually Mr. Lord. The picture postcard settings are straight out of Currier and Ives and there are some adorable moments and a few genuine laughs. But it is overabundant with corn and schmaltz and sentimentality, and of course, everything wrapped up far too neatly to be believable. Still, I'll always treasure the moment when the portrait of Brown's alleged mother is unveiled and the look on the future soap actor's face as he sees whom Ives is representing as the sole surviving older member of his family.
This version of the Sally Benson story, "Mother Carey's Chickens", is a bit different than the 1930's RKO Radio version which starred Ruby Keeler and Anne Shirley, and very Disney-fied. In fact, it is films like this that show the certain look that Disney films had, both in their set-up, themes and characterizations, that no other studio would have. The basic premise of this musical comedy piece of Americana has Mills arranging to rent a house in Maine without her mother's knowledge and convincing her to move the family there where, like the Ingalls of "Little House on the Prairie", they seem to become the moral compass of the small town, even with the arrival of a much derided snooty cousin (Deborah Walley) who upsets Mills by stealing the affections of school teacher James Stacey. The heart and soul of this film squarely is split down the middle between the always lovely McGuire, finding another summer place and getting to sing (dubbed) the title song where the editors pull away footage from her and insert documentary footage of the countryside wildlife from one of their many documentaries and the always commanding Burl Ives. Married to the seemingly shrewish Una Merkel, Ives is an overly good natured soul who would give you the shirt off his back even if it was the middle of winter. Merkel wants to tell McGuire the truth about the house, that they were not permitted to rent it, and when the real owner (a very young Peter Brown) shows up, Ives has lots of 'splainin' to do.
As usual, Ives gets to sing a couple of folk songs, one extremely corny about "the ugly bug's ball" that once again splits away to show nature doing its thing. It's ironic that I watched this in a double bill with Disney's 1956 nature documentary "The Secrets of Life" which focused highly on the insect world, and found them to be a perfect double bill together. The Sherman Brothers' score, for the most part, is second rate when compared to "Mary Poppins" and "Bednobs & Broomsticks", with one song, "Femininity", rather lively as Mills (not sounding very good here) and Walley dress up Ives' tomboyish daughter (Wendy Turner) standing out among the rest. Michael J. Pollard, as Ives' oldest son, has very little to do but declare his desire to get out of this one buggy town where the minister's name is actually Mr. Lord. The picture postcard settings are straight out of Currier and Ives and there are some adorable moments and a few genuine laughs. But it is overabundant with corn and schmaltz and sentimentality, and of course, everything wrapped up far too neatly to be believable. Still, I'll always treasure the moment when the portrait of Brown's alleged mother is unveiled and the look on the future soap actor's face as he sees whom Ives is representing as the sole surviving older member of his family.