Candleshoe

Today we’ll look at a young Jodie Foster in the disjointed-but-fascinating 1977 film Candleshoe.



Blimey!

 

We are introduced to scrappy young hooligan Casey Brown (played by a smirking 15 year-old Foster) through a protracted opening sequence in which she and an anonymous group of punks steal their way through various Los Angeles streets and alleyways. After this, Casey is shown to live with some rotten foster parents, who are more than happy to send her away with a pair of tough-looking goons for a handful of cash. Foster is very convincing in the role of the young con-artist, whose “tough-cookie” routine could’ve become tedious in the hands of a less-talented actress.


The '70s called: it wants it's collar back...

Casey soon finds herself in the employ of conman Harry Bundage (played by Rumpole of the Bailey’s Leo McKern,) who wants her to impersonate a wealthy old woman’s long-lost granddaughter in order to find treasure supposedly hidden at her estate, Candleshoe. Upon their first meeting, Bundage slaps Casey around for “sassing him.” This whole first sequence, from the opening credits through Casey and Bundage’s meeting, feels like the filmmakers were going for a serious, almost gritty film – like Taxi Driver for a family audience - but after this point, the rest of the film pulls back and becomes decidedly more tame. Even composer Ron Goodwin’s music, which begins as pure-'70s funk, soon changes to a bouncier orchestral score more appropriate for the stately countryside setting.

Class act

 

At Candleshoe, Casey is soon accepted into a pieced-together family composed of governess Lady St. Edmund (Helen Hayes, in her final film role,) butler Priory (respected English actor David Niven) and a collection of children adopted from a local orphanage (played by … various kids.) While investigating clues to uncover the treasure, Casey learns that Priory is the only staff member still employed at the estate; it is he and the children alone that maintain the upkeep of the property. This allows Niven to do his own Kind Hearts And Coronets act, posing as various gardeners, servants and family friends to fool the near-sighted governess.
 

Mrs. Magoo

At this point, one can’t help but feel sorry for Hayes’ Lady St. Edmund, who’s being deceived by everyone she knows (several of whom are actually Niven in disguise.) I was expecting the story to become a game of wits between Foster and Niven’s characters at this point, for Priory must surely be after the gold himself. It turns out, however, that he and the children are doing it all to spare the elderly woman's feelings. This, of course, soon makes Casey see the error of her ways and confess her crimes, etc. etc.

 

Candleshoe is odd in that it continually twists and turns, jumping between gritty larceny tale, picaresque character drama, slapstick comedy and family-friendly adventure. This may help keep the film from slipping into boring predictability, but the effect is disarming. For example, during the film’s climax, the family is threatened by Bundage and a group of menacing thugs – and from what we’ve seen of McKern’s character thus far, a very real sense of danger is felt. However, the ensuing fight immediately becomes one of Disney’s patented “wacky live-action fights,” with 6-foot bruisers screaming in agony after 8-year old children kick them and drop bags of flour on their heads.

 

The film was directed by Norman Tokar, a prolific American director credited with many television shows (including 93 episodes of the sitcom Leave It To Beaver,) and a dozen live-action films for Disney. Many of his films for the studio are considered amongst its lesser-known gems, including Those Calloways and The Apple Dumpling Gang. While watching Candleshoe, I couldn’t help but note how often the film seemed to be striving to be better than it needed to. Many of the shots are thoughtfully composed, and the use of color and shadows was subtle and interesting (a rarity in earlier Disney live-action films, where the mandate seemed to be “light the room brightly, center everything, and shoot.”)

 

There was one moment in particular where the editing struck me as unusually fine for a film of this caliber: a scene of a horse running along a hillside cross-fading to a shot of a young man sitting and counting a stack of money. I had to stop and re-watch this transition several times, for the galloping horse merged perfectly with the position and motion of the character’s moving hands. These two shots were lined up so precisely that the composition could not have possibly been a coincidence, and this effect comes across smoothly and subtlety, without drawing attention to itself. I was so impressed I had to show this below (as unwieldy as I can, unfortunately – my apologies that the screen-caps don’t line up as well as they do in the film):
 

Taking all this into account, it’s a shame that the potential for a really well-made film is somewhat squandered, for no other reason than the fact that Candleshoe is a “Disney live-action family film.” Wonderfully-lensed location work is jarringly mixed with random and unnecessary rear-projection footage; any menace or real threat is quickly deflated with banal physical comedy; complex character development is eschewed for tidy morality. One can almost sense Tokar straining under the limitations of not only a merely decent script, but those of an extremely specific and restrictive genre; unfortunately he would helm only one more film for Disney, 1978’s barely worth-mentioning Cat From Outer Space, before his death in 1979.

 

There’s a scene near the middle of the film where Niven and Hayes’ characters, in the midst of packing up the mementos and trappings of the estate’s illustrious past, stop to dance to a waltz that was once performed in the home’s now empty ballroom. As the camera pans back to show the extent of the barren hall, the music takes on a distant, echoed quality, and the sounds of unseen revelers from galas long-passed are heard on the soundtrack. In many ways, Candleshoe (the estate and the movie itself) can be seen as a metaphor for Walt Disney Productions at this moment in time: a place full of staunchly focused caretakers and optimistic youths, all pushing ahead despite pressures from the world outside. They carry on simply because they love the place and the kindly old soul who dwells there - while still feeling the reverberations from past glories, echoing on and on.
 

The last dance

All the same, one feels a palpable desire by those behind-the-scenes to strive for something more than merely what’s expected. A change would have to come soon, as the world had changed outside the walls of Walt’s quaint old studio. Disney would soon find itself taking a darker and more mature turn in the coming decade.