B-Directed by Nia DaCosta Starring Yahya Abdul Mateen, Teyonah Parris, and Colman Domingo Review by Jon Kissel |  |
The great underrated horror entry of the late slasher era gets a modern revamp with Nia DaCosta’s Candyman, a film that builds on its predecessor while not surpassing it. The 1992 film made exceptional use of Tony Todd as the titular vengeful spirit while also being far more intelligent than its genre typically requires. Some of Candyman’s themes are visible in DaCosta’s version, but the world’s a different place than it was 30 years ago and her film reflects that. Working from a script cowritten by Jordan Peele, Candyman has a lot on its mind. It has to effectively convey its ideas while also serving up the kills and mayhem, but DaCosta’s film is often is at war with itself over which interest it’s trying to serve.
Both the 1992 film and this latest entry take place in Chicago on the same plot of land, but the Cabrini Green housing project of the original has been remodeled into trendy condos. One of these condos is occupied by art exhibitor Brianna (Teyonah Parris) and her much less successful artist boyfriend Anthony (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II). The film doesn’t explicitly state that Anthony is a bad artist with no ideas, but his lack of inspiration is apparent. Anthony’s paintings are nothing more than historical lessons about nefarious instances of racial injustice, and while these instances are worth knowing about, Anthony brings no commentary beyond a finger in the chest asking why the viewer didn’t already know about it. Local laundromat owner Burke (Colman Domingo) provides Anthony with more fodder by telling him about the legend of the Candyman, a vengeful spirit who’ll appear and murder whoever says his name five times into a mirror. This becomes the subject of Anthony’s newest exhibition, but it’s a critical and commercial flop until a patron does the mirror ritual and is subsequently killed. The notoriety from the incident makes Anthony an artist of the moment, though it’s happening at an inopportune time. Anthony’s started to break out in rashes after a bee sting, and is painting atrocities in a delirious state, putting his newfound success, and the lives of those around him, at risk.
Mirroring the arc from the original, where the lead character is terrorized by Candyman because she’s using his legend for her own personal gain, is really all DaCosta’s Candyman needs to do. Coupled with Mateen’s unhinged performance and a classic horror score by Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, the film moves effectively through a physical and mental decompensation plot while also bringing up of-the-moment debates about gentrification and the exploitation of Black trauma. However, Candyman’s third act leaves this behind as the film tries to reclassify Candyman’s purpose and introduces lore that might have been in subpar sequels but was not in the original. DaCosta’s shift is not as interesting as the original imagining. The film also indulges in throwaway massacre scenes that add nothing to the plot beyond a satisfaction of audience bloodlust, a cheap scrap thrown from a film that wasn’t otherwise operating on that level. Candyman both surrenders to baser instincts and attempts to become something it wasn’t. Both areas of the film are failures, one of ambition and the other of underestimation.
Candyman overcomplicates something that should’ve been an easy layup. The frustration in its last thirty minutes does get lessened when considering how strong the film’s first hour is. Viewer expectation can be a tricky thing, especially when what’s being presented is exactly what’s wanted. The transition to something else is just too quick and doesn’t mesh with what’s come first. Mateen and Parris are movie stars, Domingo is going to win a Supporting Actor Oscar someday soon, and DaCosta has a bright career ahead of her. Candyman is mostly worthy of their efforts, until it suddenly isn’t. B-
Mirroring the arc from the original, where the lead character is terrorized by Candyman because she’s using his legend for her own personal gain, is really all DaCosta’s Candyman needs to do. Coupled with Mateen’s unhinged performance and a classic horror score by Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, the film moves effectively through a physical and mental decompensation plot while also bringing up of-the-moment debates about gentrification and the exploitation of Black trauma. However, Candyman’s third act leaves this behind as the film tries to reclassify Candyman’s purpose and introduces lore that might have been in subpar sequels but was not in the original. DaCosta’s shift is not as interesting as the original imagining. The film also indulges in throwaway massacre scenes that add nothing to the plot beyond a satisfaction of audience bloodlust, a cheap scrap thrown from a film that wasn’t otherwise operating on that level. Candyman both surrenders to baser instincts and attempts to become something it wasn’t. Both areas of the film are failures, one of ambition and the other of underestimation.
Candyman overcomplicates something that should’ve been an easy layup. The frustration in its last thirty minutes does get lessened when considering how strong the film’s first hour is. Viewer expectation can be a tricky thing, especially when what’s being presented is exactly what’s wanted. The transition to something else is just too quick and doesn’t mesh with what’s come first. Mateen and Parris are movie stars, Domingo is going to win a Supporting Actor Oscar someday soon, and DaCosta has a bright career ahead of her. Candyman is mostly worthy of their efforts, until it suddenly isn’t. B-
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