Candyman - 1992
Directed by Bernard Rose
Written by Bernard Rose
Based on the short story "The Forbidden" by Clive Barker
Starring Virginia Madsen, Tony Todd, Xander Berkeley
& Kasi Lemmons
Candyman. Candyman. Candyman. Candyman. Every since I was a very small boy, I've had an overactive imagination. I'd look at my bedroom window at night, and expect some kind of ghoul to appear there - almost anticipating it as if my imagination were enough to tempt something supernatural to materialize. That inner fear turned out to be an unexpected benefit when it came to scary movies - the more unnerving the better and more fondly remembered. Is this masochism? Mathias Clasen and others have studied this strange counterintuitive compulsion some of us have regarding these films - and I'm definitely a fan of freaking myself out. So, how well does a film like
Candyman do in comparison to the broad spectrum of scary horror films out there? It's pretty good. It's not up amongst the absolute best, but it has many of the necessary components and Bernard Rose had many varying factors which fell his way.
Helen Lyle (Virginia Madsen) is a research graduate doing a study on urban legends, and this is how she comes across the Candyman legend - if you speak his name five times into a mirror, he is meant to appear and wreak bloody havoc. Trying to dig deeper into where all this came from, she investigates a murder which took place in a nearby building tenement with her friend Bernadette (Kasi Lemmons) leading to her being assaulted. After recovering, a mysterious figure claiming to be Candyman (Tony Todd) approaches her. She faints, and when she comes to she's covered in blood, with the beheaded dog of a woman she'd contacted during her research near her - and worse, the woman's baby is missing. Charged with murder, but bailed out by her husband Trevor (Xander Berkeley) she tries to maintain her innocence, but this is further complicated when Bernadette's body is found in her apartment after being killed by the apparition. The Candyman wants one thing - for Helen to join him in infamy and help revive his legend, seemingly claiming that she's his lover and fated to die a horrible death to become legend herself.
These films often supply twisted backstories to the plight of whatever villain or monster is in them, and this one creates a great mythos for itself. Daniel Robitaille was an African-American man living in late 1800s America, an artist and son of a former slave. Daniel fell in love with a white woman, and impregnated her which led to her father assembling a lynch mob to kill him - and they did this job with the requisite cruelty, common during that period. They severed his right hand with a rusty saw, covered his naked body in honey, and then threw him into an apiary where 1000s of bees stung him to death. Personally, I'm extremely allergic to bees - only a couple of stings can kill me, so the bee element of
Candyman works as well as anything else does. The other major theme is racial, and of course this includes both the myth-making time period and modern Chicago, where the poor people who live in the building tenement of Cabrini-Green are nearly all black - in the original novel this translated into different classes in Liverpool.
One of the best elements of
Candyman is it's haunting score, which at different times uses piano, organ and choir to modulate drama and an awareness of the otherworldly - almost in a religious sense. That the music is go good comes as no surprise when you learn that Philip Glass was involved with composing it - and he'd have to have been the most talented person working towards the end product of this film. Nominated for 3 Oscars (for
Kundun,
The Hours and
Notes on a Scandal), Glass rarely participates in scoring a horror film but still manages to create one of the best horror scores I've ever listened to. It's eerily reminiscent of Wendy Carlos and her work on
The Shining and
A Clockwork Orange. He joins a select group (Joseph Bishara, Goblin, Colin Stetson, Mark Korven etc) and stands out as being one of the all time great musicians outside of film scoring, having worked with David Bowie and other high profile artists in the industry. That organ and choir work during
Candyman's climax was especially memorable and created the perfect atmosphere for the ending of a horror film.
Visually, there's a lot going on. From cinematographer Anthony B. Richmond (who worked on the likes of
Don't Look Now,
The Man Who Fell to Earth and
Let it Be with The Beatles) to visual effects supervisor William Cruse (
The Green Mile and
The Fisher King) and one of the most crucial men on set during certain scenes - expert bee wrangler Norman Gary, who had to breed thousands of bees to make sure the ones he used extensively in scenes where Virginia Madsen and Tony Todd would be covered in them would be very young and not likely to be able to sting yet. The effects are all practical (which I always prefer in horror) - but some of the most eye-popping moments are those with the bees. Also noteworthy is the view we get of Chicago during the opening credits - while not as unique today, it's one of the first times a large drone was able to film at such a close range looking straight down. It's always good for a film like this to give us views that are uncommon, disorientating and unusual. You'll see many horror films using that same 'strange spatial viewpoint' type of cinematography at it's start.
The story itself came from Clive Barker, well known for his macabre writings and occasional forays into filmmaking -
Candyman is one of two major properties he's well known for, the other being
Hellraiser. These days, a success in horror means you've spawned a kind of franchise, and the genre is well known for inevitable sequels to films that achieve even moderate success (
Candyman was followed by two sequels and in 2021 a direct sequel to the first film brought
Candyman into the modern era.) I really hadn't had much experience with
Candyman at all, despite being a fan of the genre - it was just a major blind spot for me - our two paths seemed destined to never meet. I saw the 2021 film when it came out, and I was unimpressed, but now I think it's more a case of needing to have seen the original and become steeped in it's mythos to really be able to understand and appreciate this more recent film, and I look forward to giving it another chance.
As for Bernard Rose - despite arriving on the scene making horror films, the only real connection I'd made with him before this was with a film I really like a lot -
Immortal Beloved, featuring Gary Oldman playing Beethoven, ill-fated in love. He made that only two years after
Candyman, and his post-1990s work seems to have been sporadic and inconsistent.
Snuff-Movie? Found footage film
Sx_Tape? He seems to have wanted to blur the lines between film and reality in the 2000s and 2010s but has been met with critical condemnation and very little interest, really making for a lower profile career. I actually have
Mr. Nice on DVD, but someone else bought it for me cheap, and I have no real desire to watch it. Rose had really reached the peak of his career in the early to mid-90s, and
Candyman is probably the apex of all that - the film he'll really be remembered for. It seems that as time has gone on,
Candyman has been looked at and evaluated more and more like a horror classic, and with it's eerie atmosphere and the presence of the large and imposing (but handsome and charming) Tony Todd it really works well.
I really enjoyed watching
Candyman a lot, and the more I looked at it, the more about it I liked. It has that tragic kind of bittersweet and painful scope all the great horror films have - it's monster is really something you feel compelled to actually feel something for. It's protagonist is someone who may have had many flaws (being cultured and superior, she patronizes and looks down upon those people in Cabrini-Green in her own subtle way) but she's someone who was really undeserving of her ultimate fate. It's a film that speaks to urban legend and folklore, along with the power people give to myths - and I love films which incorporate that into them. It scares us by psychologically guiding us into a certain mindset, and it's one of those horror films where I'm more scared by the ideas it represents than by any visceral gore or sudden jump-scares. It's the pain that lingers in a place where unspeakable experiences seem to have soaked into the walls and ground, yearning for hushed voices to whisper and worry about curses. It's that fear of powerful horror that has transcended our physical world, and waits for us on the other side - waiting for a way through, just like a killer through a gap behind the bathroom mirror. Candyman.