A Troubled Teen Seeks Her Fortune in Candleshoe

It’s rather rare for me to happen upon a Disney movie I’ve never heard of before, but such was the case with Candleshoe, a 1977 movie directed by frequent Disney director Norman Tokar and based on a book by Michael Innes. Though the book was entitled Christmas at Candleshoe, the movie isn’t tied to that season; while I love movies with a Christmas theme, it’s probably just as well that this one lacks it because that makes it more likely to be watched year-round.

Candleshoe stars a young Jodie Foster as Casey, a tough-talking street teen who reminds me of Jesse, the surly thug-in-training in Free Willy. The movies share similar scenes at the beginning of kids running rampant in the streets, wreaking havoc, and those scenes seem to end in a similar way too until it becomes apparent that Casey has been apprehended not by the cops but by a petty crook with a complex scheme.

In a storyline that made me think very much of Don Bluth’s Anastasia, the bearded Bundage (Leo McKern) and his sour accomplice Grimsworthy (Vivian Pickles) plan to groom Casey, who looks remarkably like the long-lost granddaughter of wealthy widow Lady St. Edmund (Helen Hayes). If they can convince the old lady that her beloved relative has returned, Casey will be in an ideal position to find her late husband’s fabled treasure. Other elements akin to Anastasia are a loose brick in the wall, a song from a music box as a bond between a woman and her grandchild, and a waltz in a decrepit room that recalls memories of regal magnificence. It makes me wonder whether Bluth was inspired by this movie at all.

Unlike the titular orphan in that animated classic, Los Angeles-based Casey doesn’t much care about her roots, but she agrees to Bundage’s plot because it means an all-expenses-paid trip to an English estate, where she presumes she will live in the lap of luxury, and a cut of the spoils once she finds the treasure. She is also a skilled con artist herself, and it is her skill that grants her entry into Lady St. Edmund’s household. However, as she begins to compile clues, she makes two startling discoveries: this aristocrat is no longer wealthy, and she actually likes the old woman and her ramshackle family. Will she have the heart to go through with her plan under these new circumstances?

The supporting cast is great, with David Niven the clear standout as the devoted Priory, Lady St. Edmund’s butler who performs multiple roles in an effort to protect her from finding out that the rest of the staff had to be let go due to insufficient funds. Most of the movie’s funniest moments involve him frantically juggling guises, a charade known to the four waifs who call the castle of Candleshoe home.

Of these, we see the most of Cluny (Veronica Quilligan), a somewhat stuffy girl around Casey’s age who is deeply suspicious of her when she arrives. The only orphan who isn’t is Bobby (David Samuels), an adorable little rascal who takes to her immediately. Hayes, who I love so much in Herbie Rides Again, isn’t quite as feisty in this movie but still is a sweet-natured woman willing to fight for the home her husband gave her, the same battle she wages in Herbie Rides Again, though she joins the battle much later here.

This movie has plenty of humor to it between Niven’s role-switching, the children’s squabbling and Bundage’s clumsy efforts to make sure Casey holds up her end of the bargain. Nonetheless, I’d classify this as more of a drama than a comedy. There’s a wistful tone to much of the film, and its central element is Casey’s development from a cynical pickpocket to someone willing to open her heart to love amidst the gorgeous ruins of a once-grand country mansion. As few tales move me more than those that involve the redemption of a troubled character, that’s hardly a complaint. I don’t know why it took me so long to find out about Candleshoe, but I’m very glad I did.

Norman Tokar Strikes Gold With the Kidnapping Caper No Deposit No Return

Back in 2008, I watched several Disney movies directed by Norman Tokar, and while I loved The Apple Dumpling Gang, my response to the others was a bit more tepid. I didn’t set the bar too high, then, when I queued up No Deposit No Return, one of the last movies Tokar directed. I’d never heard of it before, but the cast – Darren McGavin, David Niven and especially Don Knotts – seemed promising, so I was happy to see it arrive even though I wasn’t sure whether it would be a hit or miss.

No Deposit No Return, like Mary Poppins, is the story of two upper-class children who have grown frightfully mischievous after years of neglect. Their father is out of the picture, and their mother is a magazine editor who delegates the job of raising them to maids and boarding school staff. Now it’s Easter break, and all Tracy (Kim Richards) and Jay (Brad Savage) want is to spend the week with their mother. To their dismay, they learn that she’ll be in Hong Kong all week, while the housekeeper who normally looks after them while they’re at home is headed to Bermuda. They’re being shipped off to Los Angeles to stay with their grumpy grandfather, multi-millionaire J. W. Osborne (Niven), a prospect none of the three relishes.

Tracy begins to formulate a plan for connecting with their overbooked mother, and when she and Jay find themselves sharing a taxi with Duke (McGavin) and Bert (Knotts), a petty safe-cracker and his driver, a light bulb goes off. After manipulating the men into letting her and Jay spend the night in their hideout, she writes a letter to her grandpa to announce that she has been kidnapped and tells Duke and Bert of her plan, explaining that all she wants is enough money for two plane tickets to Hong Kong. If they will only play along, they could be very rich men – and they are desperately in need of a windfall, since nefarious loan shark Big Joe (Vic Tayback) is on their tails. After all, how hard could it be to keep an eye on a couple of kids for a few hours?

Right from the credits, this movie is enormously entertaining. The stylized animation is reminiscent of a Pink Panther opening and bears little literal resemblance to the movie, though some of the kids’ adventures are hinted at in their animated exploits. Jay’s pet skunk Duster has pride of place in this sequence, and a shark, perhaps representative of Big Joe, surfaces to stir things up. I was smiling when the animation ended, so it boded well for the rest of the movie, and happily the live action lived up to the engaging cartoon credits.

Richards and Savage were both Disney veterans when they filmed this movie, and they seem right at home in this zany family comedy. I was especially impressed with Richards, who makes Tracy simultaneously sweet and devious. She is arguably the cleverest character in the movie, though her elaborate schemes don’t always have the desired result. There’s something hypnotically adorable about this plucky youngster. Savage is fun to watch as well, though Jay is such a walking disaster that I couldn’t help cringing a bit as I contemplated what sort of massive mess he was going to make next. Duster often steals the show; all he has to do is turn up someplace unexpected to raise a panic, and it’s quite comical to see so many people lose all composure at the mere sight of this docile creature rendered offensive by the noxious odor he could release.

Given Knotts’ comedic genius, I am always disappointed when comedies fail to take advantage of his full skill set. Happily, this one does, from his aw-shucks dialogue to his bug-eyed responses and his spectacular pratfalls. One sequence in particular that leads him on a wild skunk chase through a dangerous series of high-rise obstacles allows him to show just how hilarious he can be. McGavin makes a good foil for him, a steady, more serious type who’s got a better head on his shoulders but still is pretty hapless in most situations.

Niven’s dry British wit is the highlight of any scene involving Mr. Osborne, who, having tailed Tracy and Jay to Duke and Bert’s headquarters, knows where they are and rather hopes they will stay there. His lack of concern for his grandchildren is mildly appalling, yet his calm contemplation of how long this charade might continue is quietly riotous, especially as we come to appreciate just what a handful these two can really be. We mostly see him conferring with his faithful butler Jameson (John Williams), but he also comes into occasional contact with the duo of incompetent detectives trying to catch both the kidnappers and the safe-cracker. Thick-mustached Sergeant Turner (Herschel Bernardi) is the more experienced cop, and the breathless enthusiasm of his glasses-wearing, textbook-spouting partner Longnecker (Charles Martin Smith) wearies him. These two are almost as funny as Duke and Bert.

The movie, written by Arthur Alsberg and Don Nelson and based on a story by Joe McEveety, is nearly two hours long, and it’s packed with action, often of the humorously disastrous variety. A little of that can go a long way, but I didn’t mind it here, especially since the chaos is rarely widespread. It also never becomes crude, which isn’t surprising for a 1970s Disney film but is refreshing nonetheless. What’s more, along with all the goofy comedy, the story has real heart. I wonder if the season two Pushing Daisies episode Window Dressed to Kill took any inspiration from this; in both, a lonely, smarter-than-average girl convinces a pair of bungling burglars to kidnap her and a deep emotional attachment forms. It’s not hard to see the basic trajectory that the story will take, but a few twists and turns took me pleasantly by surprise. I do love a good redemption story, even when the baddies really aren’t all that bad to begin with.

I’ve got a few more Tokar movies lined up to watch soon, and now I am looking forward to them more than I was initially. While exemplifying his tendency toward excessive runtimes, No Deposit No Return never feels overlong and aptly demonstrates how well Tokar could fare with the right material.

Cary Grant Patches Lives and Steals Hearts in The Bishop's Wife

I was in high school when The Preacher's Wife hit theaters. Though I'd wanted to see it back then, I didn't get around to it until this year. My mom, meanwhile, had been hearing good things about The Bishop's Wife, on which the former is based, so once I kicked off my Christmas movie watching with the angelic Denzel, I figured I might as well move on to Cary Grant.

The Bishop's Wife is directed by Henry Koster and written by Leonardo Bercovici and Robert Sherwood. The first major difference between the two movies is that this 1948 film is in black and white, a condition I always find gravely disappointing, but if the movie is engaging enough it stops bugging me after a little while. This one is. The second significant difference is that while every major character in The Preacher's Wife is black, every major character in this movie is white.

It's a very different sort of setting, and David Niven, as Bishop Henry Brougham, has a decidedly aristocratic air. He's English, detached from his family and lives in a mansion, where he is attended by servants, one of whom is played by Elsa Lanchester, who I know as sourpuss nanny Katie Nana in Mary Poppins. So when Dudley (Grant) shows up with his little bag of angelic tricks to help Henry get control over his life, I couldn't help but think this movie has as much in common with Mary Poppins as with The Preacher's Wife.

I found Loretta Young more engaging than Whitney Houston in the role of the wife, Julia, who supports her husband's ministry but is beginning to feel neglected. She's a warm, passionate woman, and her vivacity increases in Dudley's presence. In this original version, Dudley has always been an angel, an entirely different order of being from humans, and he's been averting calamities for centuries. He's hobnobbed with ancient royalty, but he's never before become so entranced by a woman that he actually wishes he could stop being an angel. It comes to that in this movie, and Julia is the one who must ultimately decide the course of Dudley's future.

The plot is pretty similar overall. In both films, Henry is pressured by someone very wealthy to agree to the building of an opulent cathedral. In this case, it's elderly Mrs. Hamilton (Gladys Cooper), who seems cold as ice but whose past hides a private pain that Dudley is uniquely qualified to unlock. He oversteps his bounds a bit by taking Julia to a restaurant of great importance to her and her husband and spends an idyllic evening ice skating with her in the park.

Because this Dudley is an angel in a truer sense of the word than Washington's Dudley, he does a lot more than change just the Bishop. He has a profound impact on several minor characters who don't have counterparts in the remake, including world-weary cabbie Sylvester (James Gleason) and atheistic history professor Wutheridge (Monty Woolley). Of course, because he's Cary Grant, he has a different sort of impact on every woman he meets. All the swooning gets a little silly after a while. And I get the impression that these ladies were not acting.

It's hard to say which of the two films I liked better, as there were aspects of each that I preferred. While I would much rather watch The Bishop's Wife in color, the movie is vibrant enough to make up for it, much like its contemporary, It's a Wonderful Life. While Bishop Henry is no George Bailey, we want his life to turn around, and it sure is fun to see just how that happens.