Provocative, perplexing and problematic, Candyman tackles current social hot top issues to such an overwhelming extent that it overpowers the fine craft and iconic horror legacy it tries to build upon.
Candyman works best if you are in-tune with the progressive politics regarding race relations that has gripped America over the last several years. Director and co-writer Nia DaCosta (Little Woods) has no doubt been inspired more by the slayings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor (among others) than the 1992 Candyman film that this 2021 version is a direct sequel to, with the issue of police brutality especially at the forefront. As such, this new version of Candyman feels more like an activist piece posing as a horror movie, albeit a well-crafted one.
Candyman stars Yahda-Abdul Mateen II as Anthony McKay, a struggling artist who, along with his successful art curator partner Brianna (Teyonah Parris), moves into a new loft in Chicago’s revitalised North Side where once stood the notorious Cabrini-Green projects. Searching for inspiration, Anthony comes across the legend of the Candyman, a supernatural killer who slays those who dared to repeat his name five times into a mirror. Obsessed with the Candyman, Anthony awakens the legend through his artwork, which leads to dire consequences.
From the cinematography by John Guleserian (About Time), to the costume design by Lizzie Cook (Dig Two Graves), Candyman is as rich and layered looking a horror film seen this year. DaCosta also brings a fresh take to the films’ traditional horror aspects, relying less on cheap jump scares in favour of innovative and unexpected framing and camera angels and colour schemes to create a unique slasher horror experience.
Where DaCosta’s progressive vision for the Candyman story stumbles is in its overreaching and preachy messaging that comes straight from the Black Lives Matter playbook. Candyman is less about character and story, and more about pushing a social and political narrative that is direct in its targets, namely white police officers.
Where previous films had the iconic Tony Todd play the Candyman role to much acclaim, DaCosta’s Candyman takes on different forms over the years with victims of racial violence at the hands of police filling the role of supernatural murderer.
One scene in which the Candyman slaughters a squad of policemen to almost heroic applause should generate controversy considering the recent slayings of police in Chicago. Interestingly, the majority of the Candyman’s victims are white, which no doubt DaCosta and producer/co-writer Jordan Peele (Get Out) have their reasons for, as is their refusal to even acknowledge the gang violence that has crippled the black community in Chicago.
Horror films have long been used as metaphors for political issues, yet there is an exploitative agenda driven ickiness to Candyman. Even the films marketing that urges viewers to “say his name” is exploitative of the social movement associated with anti-black violence, proving Candyman to be a problematic example of black trauma porn.
