The magical nanny believes both in empowerment and in the idea that work should be sweetened by a spoonful of sugar, writes Lucy Kellaway

WHEN I was about 10, my favourite bit from the film Mary Poppinswas when Mary reaches into her empty carpet-bag and whips out a pair of lilac high-heeled shoes. This made a lot of sense to me then, as did the way Mary, the children and the chimneysweep disappeared into the chalk pictures on the pavement.

The only bit about the film I didn't like was the run on the bank, which struck me as silly.

Last week, to understand the current crisis better, I watched it again. Now I see that not only are the bank scenes realistic, the entire film should be required viewing for all bankers: it manages to be soothing, perspicacious and upbeat all at once.

For those who have never seen this most magical of musicals, George Banks is the father of Jane and Michael, employer of Mary Poppins, and works for the Fidelity Fiduciary Bank.

The year is 1910 and the City of London is much as it is now. Tail coats and bowlers may have been replaced by chinos, and majestic marble halls by glass atriums, but the air of alienating, unsustainable wealth was much the same. The system was as finely balanced then as now.

Towards the beginning, Mr Banks bursts into song: "A British bank is run with precision/A British home demands nothing less/Tradition, discipline and rules must be the tools/Without them - disorder! Chaos!/Moral disintegration!/In short, we have a ghastly mess!"

Gordon Brown made many of the same points in his press conference last week in announcing his £400 billion package to sort out the ghastly mess, only his language of regulation, supervision and transparency was rather less catchy.

The run on the Fidelity Fiduciary begins with an early precursor to the dismal Take Your Sons and Daughters to Work Day.

Mr Banks invites his children to the bank, and the directors round on young Michael and try to get him to part with his tuppence. They work on his greed, promising to turn pennies into pounds, and on his youthful ignorance.

"Think of the foreclosures! Bonds! Chattels! Dividends! Shares! Bankruptcies! Debtor sales!", they sing, bafflingly and somewhat menacingly.

It is a classic case of mis-selling. And then, when the boy shouts "give me back my money!", the customers start to panic and before you know it there is a riot outside the bank doors.

Still more pertinent to today is the scene when Mr Banks gets fired. He is called into the boardroom and roundly humiliated. His umbrella is turned inside out and someone punches a hole through his bowler hat.

Nothing has changed here: the modern version is the abrupt confiscation of the Porsche keys and black plastic bin-liners left on the desk.

In an early version of the modern exit interview, Mr Banks is asked if he has anything to say. He thinks for a bit, crestfallen, and then he says: "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

This is an excellent reply; indeed I thoroughly recommend it to any modern banker meeting the same fate.

Mr Banks was saying that normal words don't fit this situation. He was also saying: I can make light of this.

Indeed he makes so light of it, that instead of throwing himself in the river as his family expects, he comes skipping home and for the first time takes the wife and kids out to fly a kite in the park.

Mr Banks has gained this inner strength by listening to his self-appointed executive coach, the chimney sweep.

A troubled Mr Banks wails that all his work has come to nothing and the sweep sings: "You've got to grind, grind, grind at that grindstone/Though childhood slips like sand through a sieve/All too soon they've up and grown/It's too late for you to give."

Even more up-to-date than this plea for work-life balance is the film's moral stance on banking. Overall, the system is seen as wicked, complacent and arrogant; mindless of the poor woman feeding the birds outside. The senior bankers are greedy and cunning, the more junior ones - like Mr Banks - are dim rule followers.

All of which rings a bell. As does the way Mr Banks feels no remorse over the depositors who failed to get their hands on their money.

Yet, while in 2008 every banker is loathed as a public enemy, in Mary Poppinsthe final judgment is more humane. As Mr Banks takes the kite in his hand he is allowed to be a decent family man.

There are one or two other details in the film that don't quite resonate with a modern audience - the fact that the banker gets home at 6.02pm every day seems almost as odd as the way Mary Poppins slides up banisters.

Apart from that the parallels with the present day abound. Poppins believes both in empowerment and in the idea that work should be sweetened by a spoonful of sugar.

"In every job that must be done/There is an element of fun" she sings, snapping her fingers and the eiderdown is folded on the bed - a trick you shouldn't try at home, or you may be disappointed.

Even the army of tap-dancing chimney sweeps has a contemporary feel to it. On the radio the other day there was a story about how, due to high gas bills and straitened circumstances, people are starting to burn wood and coal in their grates, and that chimney sweeps are back in business.

As far as I know, no one is disappearing through the pavement as yet, but it can only be a matter of time.