"Filigree, apogee, pedigree, perigee!" — these four words, which I blame for receiving a shoddy Paul Daniels Magic Set as a child in the 1980s, are the incantation from Bedknobs and Broomsticks, a Disney film from the 1970s. In the movie, Angela Lansbury plays Eglantine Price, a witch who casts the spell to turn people into fluffy rabbits. As a kid, I was fascinated by the idea of transforming the world with a few magical words, even if my attempts with plastic thimbles and a flimsy wand were far from successful. Though I never became a wizard, my love for the film has lasted into adulthood. For me, it was one of those rare VHS tapes that parents would record from TV during the holidays, only to play it repeatedly to keep children occupied. I still remember the commercials and the frustration of being stuck with it. Despite its charm, Bedknobs and Broomsticks has always carried a bit of a shadow. It was created as a backup plan when Disney struggled to secure the rights to Mary Poppins, a film that was much more popular. The film’s creator, Walt Disney, wasn’t overly enthusiastic about it, and this attitude was reflected in the story of the film’s creation. According to the screenwriter, Don Da Gradi, Disney was reportedly dozing off during a meeting about the film, with exaggerated snoring sounds coming from him as the Sherman brothers, the songwriters, previewed one of the film’s musical numbers. When the movie finally came out in 1971, both the Shermans and Lansbury felt it had been cut down too much, and critics were divided, finding the inclusion of Nazis in a children’s film jarring and out of place. Yet, for all its flaws, Bedknobs and Broomsticks has a unique charm that resonates with me. As a child from a working-class background, the idea of a witch with a quirky sense of style and a penchant for adventure was more appealing than the traditional, more polished stories of the time. Today, I appreciate its offbeat tone and the way it balances whimsy with a touch of darkness. The film features a variety of musical numbers, including the lesser-known The Beautiful Briny, which was originally written for Mary Poppins, and Portobello Road, a lively song set in London's market scene. The film's emotional core, The Age of Not Believing, reflects on the loss of childhood wonder — a theme that feels just as relevant for adults as it does for children. Revisiting the film recently, I was surprised by how much I still enjoyed it, even with my usual skepticism toward nostalgia. The film has a sense of humor that shines through, especially in its exaggerated battle scenes and quirky characters. One particularly funny moment involves a bizarre football match on an island ruled by animals, where vulture paramedics rush onto the field as soon as someone gets injured. In one climactic sequence, Eglantine Price, dressed in a helmet and wielding a sword, flies on a broomstick decorated with the Union Jack, summoning a phantom army of medieval knights to fight off Nazis in a slapstick-style battle. These moments, while strange, add to the film's charm. Watching it through the eyes of a young child now reminds me of the wonder and imagination of my own childhood — and how even the most peculiar spells can turn enemies into something harmless, like bunnies.