Candyman is the ultimate urban legend—a hook-handed ghost who attacks people in their bathrooms when they chant his name five times in the mirror. An investigating grad student uncovers far more than a supernatural tale of vengeance, and becomes a target of the ghost once she threatens to demystify his legend and make it untrue.
On the surface, this film is about a vengeful ghost who sees his storytellers as a congregation, and he gains power from infamy by terrorizing the world who knows about him. But deeper, it's a very complex discussion of race.
Candyman is (or was) a black man lynched by a mob for getting involved with a white woman. Researcher Helen is a white woman investigating his myth. Candyman is strongest in the now-defunct Chicago housing project of Cabrini-Green, which is a neglected place populated by a Black community. There's a lot here.
Helen seems pretty aware of her privilege, but is still starkly juxtaposed against Cabrini-Green. Candyman keeps his story alive and his spirit powerful through pain and infamy...because the hate crime that destroyed him could be forgotten over time if Candyman wasn't a threat keeping his title on people's lips, perhaps. Perhaps he felt martyrdom would be temporary. Because Helen tries to undermine his power and myth with the truth, Candyman decides to ruin her life until she submits to him, which takes the form of effortlessly framing her for murders...murders that start off appearing to be racial hate crimes, keeping his threat alive but also reminding people of the power of hate. Conversely, there's the idea of Helen's name being cleared and people recognizing her good and her own victimhood of Candyman. What does it mean for the victim to become the aggressor, and how does Helen's vindication work out if Candyman still has it his way? There's a lot to ponder about each character's public perception and understanding of each other, and the film doesn't hit you over the head with any of it. It just provides fascinating moral ambiguity wrapped in racial dynamics in a way that make the film super rich.
The performances are pretty good. Tony Todd as Candyman is beautiful and terrifying in his composed brutality, and it's hard to imagine another performer in his role.
This is a film that has a lot of commentary and disussion points in the framework of an eerie ghostly gothic urban romance. It doesn't offer much closure, but that's what makes it so compelling.
Film An extremely loaded and thought-provoking ghost tale.
Candyman is the ultimate urban legend—a hook-handed ghost who attacks people in their bathrooms when they chant his name five times in the mirror. An investigating grad student uncovers far more than a supernatural tale of vengeance, and becomes a target of the ghost once she threatens to demystify his legend and make it untrue.
On the surface, this film is about a vengeful ghost who sees his storytellers as a congregation, and he gains power from infamy by terrorizing the world who knows about him. But deeper, it's a very complex discussion of race.
Candyman is (or was) a black man lynched by a mob for getting involved with a white woman. Researcher Helen is a white woman investigating his myth. Candyman is strongest in the now-defunct Chicago housing project of Cabrini-Green, which is a neglected place populated by a Black community. There's a lot here.
Helen seems pretty aware of her privilege, but is still starkly juxtaposed against Cabrini-Green. Candyman keeps his story alive and his spirit powerful through pain and infamy...because the hate crime that destroyed him could be forgotten over time if Candyman wasn't a threat keeping his title on people's lips, perhaps. Perhaps he felt martyrdom would be temporary. Because Helen tries to undermine his power and myth with the truth, Candyman decides to ruin her life until she submits to him, which takes the form of effortlessly framing her for murders...murders that start off appearing to be racial hate crimes, keeping his threat alive but also reminding people of the power of hate. Conversely, there's the idea of Helen's name being cleared and people recognizing her good and her own victimhood of Candyman. What does it mean for the victim to become the aggressor, and how does Helen's vindication work out if Candyman still has it his way? There's a lot to ponder about each character's public perception and understanding of each other, and the film doesn't hit you over the head with any of it. It just provides fascinating moral ambiguity wrapped in racial dynamics in a way that make the film super rich.
The performances are pretty good. Tony Todd as Candyman is beautiful and terrifying in his composed brutality, and it's hard to imagine another performer in his role.
This is a film that has a lot of commentary and disussion points in the framework of an eerie ghostly gothic urban romance. It doesn't offer much closure, but that's what makes it so compelling.