Candyman still endures as a legend, but not in the way we knew in the nineties. He seems to have many faces these days, and artist Anthony McCoy becomes obsessed with the stories and their social implications after investigating.
Candyman is now a film written by and starring Black people, which is a meaningful perspective change in the creative chair. The original film was written in the White lens, even if it was socially conscious, and so it's good to see the world of Candyman, emblematic of racial injustice, fully centered around Black faces this time. The other big change is that Candyman has evolved, brilliantly, into a collective which includes real-world victims. The bee-infested ghost is now literally and metaphorically a hive, a shifting phantom composed of the faces of other Black males victimized by racist panic and bigoted malice. Every community has their Candyman, and each of these is the spirit summoned by the mirror. It's a tragic reflection of how much more public the awareness of racial injustice has become, and how much more numerous the martyrs in the public eye, and making some real victims part of the lore grounds the commentary more harshly. As Anthony finds himself becoming consumed by Candyman through his art exhibits exploring the victims, there is a disturbing comment on victimhood and being unwillingly devoured by the shared cultural heritage of pain, as well as the continued idea of Candyman needing to be brutal to keep the story alive, now flipped as we see the idea of deliberately creating a Candyman for the same purpose.
The film is visually stunning and atmospheric, and the acting performances are great. Artful shadow puppetry depicts the incidents which created Candymen in the past, and elsewhere, the cinematography is excellent. The setting of Chicago remains well-used for commentary on gentrification and the silencing of Black voices.
The film's plot kind of rushes itself in the third act, however, with the surface narrative being confusing and speedy, but the points can still be understood and the ending stands poignantly.
This feels like a purposeful requel. This story has come back because it never left. It's gotten worse in some ways, but it's still Candyman.
Film A messy end but a worthy revisit with a strong commentary.
Candyman still endures as a legend, but not in the way we knew in the nineties. He seems to have many faces these days, and artist Anthony McCoy becomes obsessed with the stories and their social implications after investigating.
Candyman is now a film written by and starring Black people, which is a meaningful perspective change in the creative chair. The original film was written in the White lens, even if it was socially conscious, and so it's good to see the world of Candyman, emblematic of racial injustice, fully centered around Black faces this time. The other big change is that Candyman has evolved, brilliantly, into a collective which includes real-world victims. The bee-infested ghost is now literally and metaphorically a hive, a shifting phantom composed of the faces of other Black males victimized by racist panic and bigoted malice. Every community has their Candyman, and each of these is the spirit summoned by the mirror. It's a tragic reflection of how much more public the awareness of racial injustice has become, and how much more numerous the martyrs in the public eye, and making some real victims part of the lore grounds the commentary more harshly. As Anthony finds himself becoming consumed by Candyman through his art exhibits exploring the victims, there is a disturbing comment on victimhood and being unwillingly devoured by the shared cultural heritage of pain, as well as the continued idea of Candyman needing to be brutal to keep the story alive, now flipped as we see the idea of deliberately creating a Candyman for the same purpose.
The film is visually stunning and atmospheric, and the acting performances are great. Artful shadow puppetry depicts the incidents which created Candymen in the past, and elsewhere, the cinematography is excellent. The setting of Chicago remains well-used for commentary on gentrification and the silencing of Black voices.
The film's plot kind of rushes itself in the third act, however, with the surface narrative being confusing and speedy, but the points can still be understood and the ending stands poignantly.
This feels like a purposeful requel. This story has come back because it never left. It's gotten worse in some ways, but it's still Candyman.