Candleshoe (1977)

So, Anastasia (1997) and The Goonies walked into a bar.…

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Okay, real talk, the Michael Innes novel Christmas at Candleshoe was so unbearably boring I couldn’t even finish it.  It’s so bad that I don’t know what Disney was thinking when they adapted it, because there’s no whimsy, it’s bone dry, and it’s really more geared to adults than Disney’s usual family audience.  It’s an odd choice.  And yet, Disney attached two very strong writers to the project.  Rosemary Anne Sisson was the screenwriter for the hidden gems Ride a Wild Pony and The Littlest Horse Thieves, two stories that could very easily have been boring but which she imbued with suspense and heart that made them some of my favorite movies I’ve seen for this blog.  Partnering with Sisson for the screenplay is David Swift, who also penned two stone cold classics in Pollyanna and The Parent Trap.  He was also set to direct, but disagreed with the casting of Jodie Foster and stepped down. His replacement was Norman Tokar, who is kind of the weak link in this behind-the-camera chain, but only because his lows are real low, like Savage Sam and Ugly Dachshund. However, highs like Snowball Express, Apple Dumpling Gang, and Rascal are quite high, so maybe with such a stellar writing team there’s some hope to be had?  The 68% rating on Rotten Tomatoes would certainly suggest that there is!

STORY

We open on the mean streets of LA where Casey Brown and her gang of delinquents wreak havoc everywhere they go. This isn’t your grandma’s Disney. These are real hardened criminals, doing things like knocking over barrels of oil so some guys pratfall all over the place. Stealing somebody’s basketball and throwing it in the trash. Tossing a banana peel into a mailbox. Really nasty stuff. Okay, I joke, but the fun stops when Casey gets to the broken down tenement that passes for home. She drops some of the things she stole that day in front of her foster parents… then notices too late that they have company. A strange man hands them an envelope of money and hauls a struggling Casey out to his car. Forget what I sarcastically said about Casey’s crimes being watered down for a Disney movie, this movie straight up opens with child trafficking.

Lest that come off as an exaggeration, the next stop is a fancy hotel. The guy orders Casey to take a bath, and returns with another man to burst in while she’s only wearing a towel. The newcomer, Harry Bundage, congratulates the first guy on a job well done and pulls Casey’s towel down to examine a scar on her shoulder. When he asks how she got it, she sasses him and he slaps her across the face (!!!) before they decide it’s better for her not to remember. He tosses her a dress he wants her to wear and the two leave to discuss payment. So, you know, it looks a whole lot like trafficking. It doesn’t help that this movie came out the year after Jodie Foster’s role in Taxi Driver.

Over dinner that night, Harry introduces himself properly as a respectable businessman who just happens to know everything about Casey. Casey immediately sees right through him, pinning him as a conman, which he doesn’t deny. But hey, she’s got nothing to lose, so she hears him out as he explains his latest scheme. Back in England, there’s an old aristocratic woman named Lady St. Edmund living in an estate called Candleshoe. Her granddaughter Margaret was kidnapped by her father and taken out of the country to the United States. Shortly after, they were in a terrible car accident. The father died, and the girl was never found. But, it just so happens that she looked remarkably like Casey, and they’re about the same age, with similar scars on their shoulder. Casey agrees to fool the old lady into thinking she’s her long-lost granddaughter in exchange for a cut of the profits and a red Ferrari.

So this criminal old man takes a child who is not his out of the country and we’re all supposed to be okay with this. Once in England, Harry takes Casey to the home of his cousin, Clara, a former maid at Candleshoe. The two of them explain the rest of the story: Lady St Edmund’s ancestor, Captain Joshua St. Edmund, was a privateer for the King four hundred years ago. During his piratical adventures, he amassed a great treasure, which he hid somewhere at Candleshoe along with clues that would lead the finder to the gold. One day, while Clara was cleaning the estate, she found the first clue hidden in the captain’s will. If Casey can successfully pose as Lady Margaret, she’ll have free reign to hunt down the rest of the clues and find the treasure. So Casey gets to work learning all about Lady Margaret: the song Greensleeves has some kind of meaning, she loves shortbread and rice pudding, she had two stuffed animals named Teddy and Piggywig, and she’s allergic to strawberries.

It’s the moment of truth. Harry grills Casey on everything she learned, including the first clue: “to the sunrise student, there is treasure among books.” The estate’s butler, Priory, greets them at the door and leaves them in the grand hall for just a moment while he fetches Lady St. Edmund. This leaves Casey free to explore, establishing three things: one, there are random kids spying on her from every corner, two, the floors are extremely slippery, and three, there’s a huge statue of Captain Joshua with his foot on a treasure chest right in the middle of the hall. I’m sure none of these things will come into play later. Once that is all successfully foreshadowed, Lady St. Edmund brings them into the parlor for a cup of tea. She has her doubts that Casey is actually Margaret, especially since she’s not the first girl who’s shown up claiming to be her granddaughter.

As Harry “explains” that he’s a private investigator who found a girl with identical scars to Margaret’s, Priory offers Casey shortbread, strawberries, and rice pudding to gauge her reaction. Casey plays her part to a T, even bringing up a memory of a loose brick in the fireplace… at least until she drops the facade and announces she’s not her granddaughter and she’s only here for the free trip to Europe. Harry is mortified and hisses at her that she’s in for it when they get back to the states. But with them gone, Lady St. Edmund asks Priory to find this loose brick, which she was completely unaware of. But they find it, and inside is a silver music box. Just as Harry is about to drive Casey away, Priory catches them and calls them back. Lady St. Edmund presents Casey with the music box, and Casey hums Greensleeves as she opens it. Sure enough, that’s the song it plays. Lady St. Edmund is convinced and welcomes her long lost granddaughter home at last.

That night, Lady St. Edmund visits Casey before bed to bring her Teddy and Piggywig, who are literally just Pooh and Piglet dolls. Remember the movie that came out this same year? Subtle product placement there, Disney. Once she’s gone, Casey tosses the stuffed animals aside. If the first clue hints at books, the obvious place to go is the world’s ugliest library. Seriously, the entire thing is such a disgusting shade of green it’s distracting. But it doesn’t distract Casey any. She spends the whole night there, until one of the mysterious kids coldly informs Casey she’s late for breakfast. We’re supposed to get the idea that Casey and the girl, Cluny, instantly dislike each other but… you know, it’s Jodie Foster. So I got a completely different vibe.

Cluny leads Casey down into the kitchens, where Priory finally introduces the other kids properly. There’s Peter, the oldest, shy little Anna, and rambunctious Bobby who I swear looks exactly like the little kid from Bedknobs and Broomsticks. They’re responsible for the chores needed to keep the household running and try to get Casey to help. Casey refuses, and before the kids can push it, Lady St. Edmund invites her for a walk and gives her an out. On the way, she notices that the roses on the table are dead, when her gardener was supposed to bring fresh ones. Priory warns that it’s better to leave the ornery gardener Gipping alone, but Lady St. Edmund storms out to give him a piece of her mind. Gipping sasses her right back, so severely that Lady St Edmund fires him on the spot. But, plot twist, as he leaves, Casey catches him tearing off his wig and fake beard to reveal Priory!

Back in the hall, Lady St. Edmund tells Priory the news about Gipping. Priory urges her to reconsider because a gardener like Gipping is irreplaceable no matter how irritable. Lady St. Edmund has reservations, but she agrees to give Gipping one last chance to Priory’s great relief. Incidentally, the whole conversation takes place in front of a very conspicuous painting of Captain Joshua aboard his ship, The Eclipse. It’s a surprise tool that will help us later. Speaking of people not being who they say they are, as Casey and Lady St. Edmund set out on their walk, Cluny and Anna muse that they don’t really believe Casey is Margaret. Nor are they really the Lady’s grandchildren. They’re all orphans she took in from a crowded orphanage to keep her company and grown to love like her own. It’s very sweet, and I’m sure it’s a relief to Casey to learn that Cluny is not, in fact, her cousin. Um. Anyway, that’s Lady St. Edmund’s backstory, so she inquires about Casey’s. What follows is a very powerful scene where Casey spills about how she’s grown up knowing she can’t trust anyone except herself, so it’s better to come out swinging than be a victim. It’s tragic, and Jodie Foster’s performance is so good.

That night, Casey pays another nighttime visit to the library. As she searches through the book, something pushes her ladder, knocking her to the floor. She raises her heavy flashlight like a weapon, but it’s only Priory. He’s just as startled as she was, and he’s the one who used a secret passage to get here. Spoilers: the fact that this house that supposedly hides a huge treasure has a ton of secret passages is never mentioned again. Surely those secret passages would be a great place to hide pirate treasure? But here we are. Casey takes the opportunity to confront Priory about the scene she witnessed in the garden, and he comes clean. He’s the only staff at Candleshoe. The whole estate is flat broke. If Lady St. Edmund ever found out, it would break her heart, so Priory poses as all the staff with help from the kids. Selling vegetables and baked goods at market and giving tours helps bring in just enough income to keep them going. He requests for Casey to keep her lips sealed and leaves her to her reading. She falls asleep in the windowseat and wakes up at sunrise to find the second clue! It wasn’t in a book at all, but a stained glass window that, when illuminated by the rising sun, projects a message on the ugly green walls. “The paths of glory lead but to the grave”.

She quickly finds out that the clue is a quote from a poem called Elegy in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray, and even gets her own copy to study. With that done, she hides in a closet to call Harry with the news. Cluny catches her on her way out and confronts her, but Casey’s not talking. Lady St. Edmund interrupts, announcing that she’s going into town with her chauffeur John Henry (also Priory). It seems John Henry’s been shirking his duties as her driver by claiming to have been drunk. Tsk tsk. Once they’re gone, it’s back to work, but Casey sneers that she’s better than they are and doesn’t have to do chores. Being called the help is the last straw for Cluny. She knocks her to the ground, but she stands no chance against tough street punk Casey. She sure does try though, because it’s time for a brutal catfight. Anna tries to break it up, but Casey pushes her off. Aaaand then things get icky. You see, Anna happens to be of Asian descent, so the filmmakers thought it would be just hilarious for her to randomly know kung fu complete with the racist music sting. Eugh. Every time I think they’re past that… The fight goes on for a while, until the girls land in the pond in true 70s Disney fashion and Peter wades in and pulls them apart.

Dinner that night is an awkward affair. All the children stay very quiet, with Cluny and Casey glaring daggers across the table. Lady St. Edmund obliviously tells them about her day, but even she can’t help but notice Casey going to great lengths to not show her face. When she pushes her hair back, everyone present can see the bruises and cuts all over her face. Cluny tenses, thinking she’s about to snitch on her. But to everyone’s surprise, Casey tells a completely different story about how she was getting up to help Cluny when she tripped over a garden hose. Casey and Cluny share a look, and the rivalry is over. Which is nice and all. But by nightfall, Casey has finished the book of poetry and still come up empty. She’s about to throw the thing out the window when she hears church bells ringing from the edge of the property. Of course! The clue is in the real churchyard! So she sneaks out to Captain Joshua’s grave, where she’s immediately accosted by Harry and Clara. They think she’s betrayed them, trying to find the treasure for herself, and they don’t believe that she hasn’t found the clue. An owl startles Clara mid-threat, knocking her to the ground right in front of another grave. This one belongs to Thomas Gray, and it has an epitaph written on it: “he followed the eclipse for riches and fame, and if ye would prosper do ye the same.” So the next assignment is to research any mention of an eclipse… or else.

The next day Casey very unsubtly asks the other kids if there’s been an eclipse here lately, but nope, there hasn’t, and the conversation quickly moves along. They head outside to serve tea to Lady St. Edmund and her dear friend Colonel Dennis, who just happened to move nearby when her last friend left. It’s Priory again, of course, and the kids giggle from the sidelines as he boasts about his brilliant horsemanship. The thing is, Priory is scared of horses. Little devil horns pop up over Casey’s head as she comes up with a plan, asking very sweetly how the English ride compared to her Californian upbringing. The other kids chime in, begging to see Dennis ride. The clincher comes when Lady St. Edmund gets in on it. Priory can’t say no to her, so he struggles to get on the back of the horse and goes flying out of control into the countryside.

Priory returns to the kitchen back in his butler clothes to a chorus of laughter. But the laughter stops when Peter finishes going over their accounts. They still need to raise 100 pounds to make ends meet. Fortunately, it’s market day, so they have a chance… if they sell more than they’ve ever sold in their lives. Casey has an idea on how to just that. Under her leadership, they all loudly advertise their wares like carnival barkers, even upselling and soon, they’ve had exactly the amazing sales day they needed. The money is theirs! But it’s about to rain, so Priory sends Casey ahead with the money while the others clean up. Just as Casey stashes the money into the cookie jar for safekeeping, Harry Bundage bursts from the darkness. He’s not at all happy that Casey wasted time goofing off at the market when she has a clue to find. She has to step out to ward off Lady St. Edmund, and when she turns back, Harry is pocketing their money! She begs for him to stop, but if Candleshoe goes bankrupt they won’t have to waste time on clues, they can just tear the place apart. He runs for it, and Casey chases after him, even standing in front of the car and throwing herself on the hood. But her heroics get her flung into a ditch and knocked unconscious. And the thief gets away with their last hope.

Casey wakes up in the hospital, with Teddy and Piggywig tucked in beside her and Lady St. Edmund holding her hand. There’s no music, no dialogue. Just a sweet moment between grandmother and granddaughter and some wonderful silent acting. But as much as they love each other, the fact remains that the money is gone. Candleshoe is done for. As they pack to leave, Lady St. Edmund and Priory reminisce on the good times they’ve had in this house. She requests one last waltz in the grand hall, but Priory balks. There’s too great a class divide between them. Lady St. Edmund slyly remarks that there was no class divide between her and Colonel Dennis. That’s right, she knew all along that Priory was disguising himself. But she’s not angry. She’s grateful that he went to such lengths to make sure she never felt alone or scared. All she wants in return is one dance. So they waltz through the empty halls. It’s actually adorable.

The other kids visit Casey in the hospital with flowers and an update. They’re auctioning off Candleshoe and everything in it in the morning, and Lady St. Edmund is heading off to a retirement community. If the police had caught the thief, things might be different, but Casey still lies that she never saw his face. No one believes her, but they can’t force her to come clean so they say their goodbyes and prepare to head back to the orphanage. At the very last second, Casey realizes she can’t do this to them. Cut to the churchyard, where she, the kids, Lady St. Edmund, and Priory gather around the churchyard. She comes clean about the treasure hunt, and how she’s been stuck on this third clue for the majority of the film. But hey, she should have just asked for help in the first place, because Lady St. Edmund figures it out in seconds flat. The Eclipse was Captain Joshua’s ship, and the next clue must be on the portrait of the pirate! There’s one problem: the painting has been sold and is currently on a train towards its new owner. Everyone piles in the car to chase that train. Wait a second. Car…. chase….

Actually, this one’s not that bad. It’s short, and it’s dynamic enough that it doesn’t drag. And, because it’s a train, they can’t resort to the same slapstick stunts that happen in literally every Disney live action car chase. And they don’t finish by throwing everyone into a lake! In fact, after the chase, they build tension by having Priory park the car in the middle of the tracks. He ushers the kids to safety, but Lady St. Edmund won’t leave the car. So Priory tries to shield her with his body as the train’s brakes screech to life. At the very last second, the train stops with its front touching Priory’s stomach. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Now that he knows he’s not going to die horribly, Priory steps out and very politely asks the conductor to check the baggage car. Because he’s English. Sure enough, there’s the painting, with Captain Joshua on the deck of the Eclipse with a piece of paper in hand. The final clue reads “Underfoot in the Great Hall, look high, look low, discover all.” I can’t say this wasn’t ten minutes of pointless filler or that the script wouldn’t be tighter if the painting was still in the hall, but at least it wasn’t complete agony.

Back to Candleshoe! But uh-oh, Harry and Clara got there first, and they brought along a small army of thugs to tear the house apart. They’re not about to let Team Candleshoe get to the treasure first. But Casey knows better than anyone how to hold her own in a fight, and under her lead, the kids use the house itself to humiliate and outmaneuver the villains. It’s all very Home Alone, and falls into the Disney Comedy Climax of devolving into slapstick, but like the car chase, it actually manages to rise above its predecessors. The fight is dynamic, escalating from sliding on the slippery floor to bashing crooks over the head with bags of flour. There’s also lots of clever visual gags with the suits of armor and things around the house. And the highlight of all of it is the battle between Harry himself and Priory, changing from weapon to weapon and making use of the fact that these are two older men who aren’t exactly in action hero shape. They trip at the finish line when the whole thing ends with Casey tickling Harry (what?), but other than that, a pretty solid final battle as Disney comedies go.

But the villains aren’t through yet and they know it. Cluny and Peter run for the police while Priory urges the rest to barricade the doors. It doesn’t do much good. Harry, Clara, and the few goons who aren’t unconscious emerge from the cellar, and phase two of the fight begins. Casey yanks the rug out from under them, sending them sliding on the slippery floor. They slide wildly, smashing through the pillars holding up the statue of Captain St. Joshua. His platform collapses, trapping the villains underneath the broken wood. More importantly, the impact causes the pirate’s treasure chest to burst open, raining gold doubloons on everyone present. The treasure was right in front of them in the most obvious place the whole time! How did it take four hundred years to notice? Harry cries as Cluny and Peter show up with the police. It’s over. He’s lost.

Candleshoe is saved! And even better, the treasure is worth more than enough to also buy back all their antiques and renovate the house. All’s well that ends well. Except Casey can’t stay here after what she tried to do. This was the first place that has ever felt like home, the first people who have ever felt like family, and she tried to rob them blind. Guilt drives her out of the estate to the train station, where she’s going to begin her journey back to Los Angeles. But Lady St. Edmund finds her and gets right to the point. Why would she ever feel like she can’t stay? Casey tries her very best to keep up her tough girl act, but the truth quickly spills out. They can’t possibly want her to stay after she lied to them. She’s ashamed of herself. The first tear she’s ever shed drips down her cheek. And Lady St. Edmund not only forgives her, not long loves her, but she gives her permission to feel. The two head home to Candleshoe together. We never do find out whether Casey is actually Margaret, but I like that, because in the end, it doesn’t matter. Casey is Lady St. Edmund’s granddaughter, and she finally found a family.

Where has this energy been this entire decade? This movie was great! There’s emotion! There’s heart! There’s emotional highs and lows! There’s fun! There’s fear! There’s stakes! There’s character growth! It’s such a breath of fresh air to see quality storytelling. I really can’t recommend this movie enough. It’s by far one of the best Disney movies of the 1970s.

CHARACTERS

Casey Brown gets an actual character arc! Those are incredibly rare lately! She starts out a self-serving liar, but she grows as a person as she finally finds someone who loves her. Those are always my favorite protagonists, the ones who start off rough and become better people through the events of the story. It’s heartwarming to see Casey find her place. She could very easily have been unlikable, but it’s made abundantly clear from the start that all her walls are just an attempt to avoid being hurt. This was Jodie Foster’s last movie for Disney, and in my opinion her best performance. And that’s saying something- she’s the best child star we’ve seen yet!

Lady Gwendolyn St. Edmund is such a warm, soothing presence throughout the film. Her kindness and love permeates every frame of this movie, balancing out the sometimes-caustic Casey. All the best Disney movies are full of heart, and this time around it all overflows out of this one character. This was Helen Hayes’ final film before she passed away, and her performance is so much better than she’s allowed to be in Herbie Rides Again or One of Our Dinosaurs is Missing. I can finally see why she was known as the First Lady of American Theatre! Oh, and a note to anyone who may think all my comparisons to Anastasia (1997) are just me drawing parallels to a movie I know. There was another version of the story in 1956, featuring Helen Hayes as the grandmother character. The version I’m familiar with may have come out twenty years after this, but there is no way all the similarities with the 1956 one are a coincidence.

Priory is absolutely hilarious. He’s trying his best to keep the house afloat and doing a pretty impressive job. But his best scenes are his disguises, the desperate improve he throws himself into to keep fooling the old lady. But he’s no clown. He has his softer moments, notably when he waltzes with Lady St. Edmund and prepares to lay down his life for her. Again, it’s a nice balance of humor and emotion that I really, really like to see. David Niven gets a much better script to work with than he did in No Deposit, No Return, and the result is a much better performance.

Harry Bundage was inspired by the villains in some of Charles Dickens’ novels, and you can tell. Right from the start, he’s established as a nasty piece of work straight out of the criminal underworld. Once Casey agrees to help him find the treasure, he becomes charming, even likable, but the threat of danger is always there. He’s very reminiscent of Bill Sykes in Oliver!, a grim and frightening presence looming over an otherwise relatively lighthearted story. It makes it all the more intense when he steals the money and things get real. I thought he was played by Brian Blessed for a good while, but he’s actually Leo McKern from Ladyhawke and Rumpole of the Bailey.

Clara Grimmsworthy doesn’t get a whole lot of screentime, but she makes the most of what she’s got. She’s Harry’s comedic sidekick, the live action equivalent of a Mr. Smee or an Iago. But that doesn’t mean she’s incompetent, no matter how many times she gets knocked into the fireplace during the final battle. She’s more than willing to make gruesome threats, and she’s the one driving the car that hits Casey. Don’t let her quirky British turns of phrase fool you, she’s as bad as her cousin. Vivian Pickles’ background in comedy in films like Harold and Maude makes her a pretty disturbing character if you think about it.

MUSIC

This soundtrack is incredible, you guys. It’s incredible. Please listen to it. Ron Goodwin’s score is phenomenal right from the start. The opening is exciting with lots of fast-paced brass, the waltz is beautiful, the fight scenes stay lighthearted without losing tension. But my favorite part has to be the climax, which borrows heavily from the melody of Yo Ho (A Pirates’ Life For Me). It’s a really nice touch in a movie about a pirate treasure! There is one unfortunate moment on the soundtrack where he resorts to a racially insensitive musical sting when Anna joins the catfight, but considering Goodwin’s last Disney film was One of Our Dinosaurs is Missing… well, at least it’s brief. The rest of the soundtrack is one of the best Disney live action scores I’ve heard yet.

ARTISTRY

This movie is beautiful to look at. It’s always nice when we have a director who realizes that the camera moves, and you don’t have to film everything in wide shots like a theatre production. Paul Beeson’s cinematography always pops in movies like The Three Lives of Thomasina and Littlest Horse Thieves, finding ways to make even the grimmest, blandest locales beautiful. And this is not a grim or bland locale. The Candleshoe house is a real castle, a privately owned estate called Compton Wynyates in Warwickshire, England. The castle and its grounds are exquisite, and Beeson really uses it to his advantage. We still need to talk about that awful library, though.

FINAL THOUGHTS

WOW. Turns out, when 70s Disney puts their minds to good storytelling, they can still make it happen. It also turns out Rosemary Ann Sisson is one of the best writers I’ve seen from this studio. Yeah, it’s not so original (see: Anastasia (1956)), but what it lacks in originality it makes up for in warmth and some truly phenomenal performances from the actors and the composer. If you have any interest in Disney live action, this is definitely one to check out.

Favorite scene: Lady St. Edmund reveals she knew all along that Priory was in all those disguises, and the ensuing dance. “We were playing games with time, you and I” is such a beautifully bittersweet line.

Final rating: 8/10, way better than I had any expectation for it to be.