Luke Buckmaster 

H is for Happiness review – emotional affairs of adults seen through a bright, childlike lens

Syrupy-sweet visuals flavour this compulsively watchable story of a precocious girl intent on solving the world’s problems
  
  

Daisy Axon (as Candice) in H is for Happiness.
Unforgettably vibrant: Daisy Axon as Candice in coming of age film H is for Happiness. Photograph: David Dare Parker

The director John Sheedy’s coming of age film H is For Happiness – adapted from Barry Jonsberg’s novel My Life As an Alphabet – is photographed in joyfully bright ways, as if inspired by the aesthetic of boiled lollies or rainbow-coloured cupcakes. The juicy, irresistible look of the film evokes the child in the adult, while its narrative – about an idiosyncratic 12-year-old girl intent on solving the world’s problems, including and especially those in her own family – evokes the adult in the child. There is plenty for youngsters to mull over without feeling like they’ve been talked down to or lectured.

The freckled, cherub-faced Candice (an unforgettably vibrant Daisy Axon), with her Pippi Longstocking-like bright white teeth and pigtailed red hair, is the sort of character who is compulsively watchable on screen but would probably come across as an insufferable do-gooder in real life. This is suggested early in the piece, when Candice’s school teacher Miss Bamford (Miriam Margolyes) asks if any of the students have questions about their assignment. And, of course, Candice does, drawing from the class a big collective sigh; they have been in this situation before.

A new boy at her school becomes Candice’s bestie and potential love interest. He is Douglas Benson (Wesley Patten), whose full name, according to Candice, is “Douglas Benson from Another Dimension”. She has bestowed upon him this title because Douglas does indeed claim to have travelled between planes of reality, while simultaneously conceding that his experiences in “manipulating dimensions and invoking gravity” is a gloried way of saying he fell out of a tree.

While delivering his backstory about crossing dimensions, Douglas complains about how “some idiot in a white coat” made an “unscientific” and “frankly, insufferable” diagnosis that he is mentally unwell. No child speaks like that, of course. Nor does anybody – child or adult – express themselves with the kind of magniloquence that comes out of Candice’s mouth. “Your vocabulary is remarkable for a 12-year-old,” her teacher says, highlighting an observation no doubt made by the audience. The silver-tongued youngster responds by explaining that her favourite book is the dictionary and she reads it every night.