Candyman (2021)
Director: Nia DaCosta
Screenwriters: Jordan Peele, Win Rosenfeld, Nia DaCosta
Cinematographer: John Guleserian
Production Companies: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Monkeypaw Productions, Bron Creative
Distributor: Universal Pictures
Release Date: 27 August 2021
Runtime: 1 hour 31 minutes
MPA Rating: R
Availability: Theaters
Synopsis
It will take a while for you to look at a mirror the same way again after watching Candyman (2021). This follow-up to the 1992 original centers around young black couple Anthony (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) and Brianna (Teyonnah Parris), an artist and an art gallery curator. They have recently moved into the gentrified city of Cabrini, a former predominantly low-income black area. In search of artistic inspiration, Anthony travels to the now derelict Cabrini projects where he meets William Burke (Colman Domingo), a long-time resident there. Burke informs Anthony of the local legend of Candyman, the phantom of a black man that anyone can summon from the afterlife – arriving with an iconic coat, hook for a right hand, and an entourage of bees – by repeating his name five times in a mirror. The only catch: he brutally kills anyone who completes the ritual. Anthony becomes obsessed with the legend, and the disturbing change in his art and self – both physical and emotional – comes from him seemingly being targeted by Candyman. This development eventually strains Anthony and Brianna’s relationship because she can’t recognize the person he’s turning into. And as Anthony’s art reaches more people and more partake in the ritual, the gospel of Candyman spreads rapidly through word of (supernatural) murder.
Analysis
I’m certainly not a fan of gratuitous violence, which is why I liked how creative DaCosta made Candyman’s kills. Excluding the murders that come towards the end, you only see Candyman via his reflection – in mirrors – as he kills people. This decision makes the viewer’s anxiety increase every time someone completes the ritual because they know Candyman is there, even if it doesn’t seem like it. The choice of visual perspective makes each kill feel unique; sometimes you’ll closely follow a person as they desperately attempt to flee from Candyman and catch glimpses of his reflection, while other times you’ll hear screams and the ripping of skin as the killing takes place off-camera. Lastly, the fact that there are no “clean” deaths or quick cuts away from violence makes for a disturbingly visceral experience. These kills never feel excessive either because of how few there are. All of these attributes thus make the film feel incredibly imaginative and equally horrifying.
I also appreciated the authenticity of Anthony and Brianna’s relationship. First of all, these characters feel real because of their multi-dimensionality and how well Abdul-Mateen II and Parris flesh them out. Having a character like Anthony who’s creative, curious, and manic, and scenes where Parris channels Brianna’s concern through worried facial expressions and an unconfident tone, help translate these well-rounded characters from script to screen. Second of all, dialogue and body language strongly convey their love for each other. Natural chemistry allows for conversation between Anthony and Brianna to flow smoothly, and most of what they say in private demonstrates how much they care for one another. Their body language similarly reveals how comfortably intimate they are with each other. Essentially, Anthony and Brianna are the type of young couple you can easily imagine spotting on the street or in a restaurant. And by making you believe that they are real people who care about each other, the film makes you more emotionally invested in the plot by putting them in peril.
Another notable aspect of the film is its discussion of gentrification and racialized violence through artistic and horror lenses. The stories of murdered black men who were victims of racial violence had previously been known only to the black residents of Cabrini. This legacy of violence, personified by Candyman, became a festering communal wound that only grew larger with time. The process of gentrification helped erase most of former Cabrini’s past and physically separate it from the new – and mostly white – Cabrini; this is evidenced by how little modern Cabrini resembles its past self and how far removed the projects are from the city skyline. However, once Anthony becomes obsessed with the story of Candyman, his art introduces (gentrified) Cabrini residents to its black community’s erased history and pain. And the horrifying deaths that become associated with Anthony’s work greatly amplify and, given their grisly nature, reflect the city’s grotesque past.
That being said, I felt there were many open plot threads that the film closed unsatisfyingly. [***SPOILER WARNING FOR REST OF PARAGRAPH***] For one, I didn’t understand the point of the third act’s ritual. Why was it necessary to turn Anthony into the new Candyman if there already was one active? And how exactly would Anthony’s transformation into Candyman be legitimate if, unlike for previous Candymen, his resulted from predestination rather than strictly racial violence? Second, Anthony’s art essentially becoming a non-factor was disappointing. To reiterate, one of the effects of Anthony’s Candyman obsession is it compels him to paint graphic portraits of black people killed in Cabrini, and this contributes to his developing insanity. We also get a flashback to Brianna’s childhood where we see the moment her artist father – who had a coat strikingly similar to Candyman’s – committed suicide. So, the movie would appear to argue that black artists’ works that reflect the “Black experience” exact a heavy toll on them. However, the only art that advances the story is a literal mirror, and by the end the topics the film seems most interested in exploring are gentrification and racialized violence. Finally, I felt that the movie didn’t know what to do with Brianna. While there are scenes that reveal some of Brianna’s backstory and her life as an individual, this fails to develop her character or progress the plot. And by the film’s conclusion, she’s relegated to a primarily reactionary role.
Conclusion
In the end, Candyman is an excellent movie that will keep your heart pounding. Its imaginative kills never get old, the characters of Anthony and Brianna get you more emotionally invested, and it has something to say about the detrimental impact of racialized violence and gentrification on the black community. The film’s inability to offer a satisfying payoff to everything it set up disappointed me, but its strengths far outshine its weaknesses. Definitely check this movie out in theaters, but please don’t try the Candyman ritual afterward. He may be fake, but why risk it?