CHITTY CHITTY CHILDREN

A friend gave us two tickets to the Hale Center Theatre in Salt Lake City, Utah.  Scanning through the online list of 2013 shows, I quickly chose "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" as the play I wanted to attend and made reservations.  A few weeks later, my husband and I drove to the theatre and took our seats in the top row.  The stage looked small and round below us.  A simple curtain covered it and as I watched the theatre fill up, I couldn’t help but feel skeptical that one of my favorite movies could be effectively produced in such a small arena.  

Then the lights dimmed, the curtain lifted, and for two hours we were whisked into the world of cars, carnivals, sweets, love, spies, and children.  The production was incredible.  Lights, sounds, sights and special effects never ceased throughout.  A bed lowered from the sky, a fire dancer came from the ground, pirates shot real smoke rings through the air, and, yes, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang floated on water and flew through the clouds. 

The small, intimate theatre skillfully drew in the spectators as actors and actresses appeared from all sides to perform and include us in their delightful tale.  Although I had been familiar with the story of "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" since I was little, I was suddenly teary as a weary father miraculously earned 30 pounds, as a beautiful lady discovered darling children, and as a junky car lifted a family through the air.  

“Why am I crying?” I asked my husband at the end of the show.  “This is merely a happy, feel-good story!”  But during the next few days I couldn’t forget the powerful yet simple message:  imagination and work can bring joy and happiness under any circumstances.

A few days later I was online again, ordering tickets to return to the show—this time with six of our children, ages 6 – 15.  They, too, were familiar with both the movie and the book, but I wanted them to experience the thrill and magic of the stage production.  

As we drove to the theatre a few days later with our children in tow, my husband started a strange discussion.  

“What gospel principles can we learn from the story of "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?”  I couldn’t think of any immediate parallels and so I kept quiet, wondering what our children would come up with.  

“Love, not money, brings happiness,” offered my daughter, referring to the destitute yet content Potts family.  

“Faith and works are both necessary for success,” said my teenage son.  I had to agree, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang became a shiny, new car thanks to both the faith of the children and the physical efforts of Mr. Potts.  

“The child-catcher is like Satan, trying to lure you with fake sweets into a cage,” said my son.  These were all powerful connections. 

But then another daughter hit the nail on the head.  

“Children are more important than toys.”  

She was referring, of course, to the Baron and Baroness of Vulgaria.  They hate children.  They loathe children.  Children are despised and outlawed because they take time and money, are often smelly and noisy, and detract from the fun of the adults.  

The depictions of child-hating are humorous in the play and the Baron and Baroness actually provide a great deal of comic relief throughout the story.  Their aversion to children, and their own toy-frenzy selfishness, is so absurd and ridiculous that it seems unlikely anyone could be quite so daft.   Yet on closer observation, their attitudes actually parallel worldly trends of our day.  Children take time, cost money, and detract from the fun of adults.  

Elder Neil A. Anderson stated, “Many voices in the world today marginalize the importance of having children or suggest delaying or limiting children in a family.” 

Is the current trend to place education, finances, and even physical desires and needs above children any different than the country of Vulgaria where the children are outlawed so the Baron and Baroness can have all of the toys?  Many adults today crowd the children out of their lives with grown-up toys:  fancy cars, high profile jobs, elaborate vacations, and even body-toning.  

Elder Anderson continues, “In ‘the best of times [and] … the worst of times,’ the true Saints of God, acting in faith, have never forgotten, dismissed, or neglected God’s commandment to multiply and replenish the earth.”

"Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang:  The Magical Car," written by Ian Flemming for his son, Caspar, and published in 1964, led to the 1968 movie-musical, which led to the 2002 stage production. Despite the years since it's original publication, it is a story for our day.  Perhaps Flemming and the ensuing writers were not familiar with abortion, with family planning, with contraception, and with our current barrage of attacks on the traditional family.  But just like the scriptures—written thousands of years ago, yet relevant for the trials of our day—the tale is timely.  

We need it now.  We need more Truly Scrumptious homes and less Vulgarity.  We need more homemade meals and less candy.  We need more fathers who sing lullabies and fewer fathers who idle away time on stick horses.  We need more inventive Mr. Potts, willing to stay up late and provide for a family, and fewer parents on thrones, worrying about the smell of dirty diapers.  We need families who are willing to bear and raise children, despite the public cry to hide them from sight.

The Potts family in their humble home—with their faded curtains and patchwork bed covers, their home-cooked eggs and imaginary car—enjoy a wealth of joy unknown in the Vulgarian castle.  Indeed, their simple faith even produces a vehicle which can transport them away from the cares of the world, protecting them from oceans, pirates, and spies.  If we also keep our priorities in line with the gospel, firmly moving ahead with faith, hope and hard work, our homes can become just as versatile and magical, protecting us in an ever-increasing deluge of evil. 

My second viewing of "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" at the Hale Center Theatre was just as powerful of the first.  I thrilled with excitement when the lights dimmed.  My heart pounded when the pirates approached.  I laughed at the Baron and Baroness.  And I cried—again—when the “uncategorical, fantasmagorical” car lifted the lovely family above the clouds and whisked them away from danger.  

Thank you, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Hale Center Theatre for the timely reminder that families and children make “the battle worth the fighting,” they make “the mountain worth the climb.”  The eternal answer to obtaining joy in this world, and even in eternity, is “having someone near; someone dear.”