Go on. Say the name. I dare ya.
Let’s talk Clive Barker—who as far as modern horror writers go, is definitely among the most interesting. His work has spanned the darkly humorous to the socially biting, often drawing on his personal experiences—be it his childhood in socially stratified Liverpool inspiring the source material for today’s subject, to his excursions as part of the subcultures in 1980s London leading to the themes of sensuality in Hellraiser. His film adaptations have been a little hit and miss—but today’s subject is arguably not only the best from him, but in my opinion easily one of the best horror films of the nineties and definitely up there for all time.
Set in then-contemporary Chicago, Candyman combines old traditions with the new—taking on the urban legend, the ghost story, the campfire tale, all the unnerving stories people have been exchanging for millennia woven into our culture, and seeing what happens when the line between that and reality blurs. Combine that with the backdrop of the big city, and more specifically the socially neglected parts of it where stories and whispers naturally thrive, and already you have all you need for compelling and engrossing themes to carry it.
Virginia Madsen stars as Helen, a researcher who decides to tackle such modern folklore, and chooses to trace stories of the Candyman—supposedly the ghost of a long-murdered man who can be summoned by saying his name five times. At first her trip into the Chicago projects presents her with the very real problems of poverty and decay, but as she soon finds out, the Candyman is all too keen to provide her with an education.
The look of the film is great—it almost manages to show the worn and grungy urban environments as beautiful in their own right, and crumbled graffiti-laden abandoned spaces within apartment blocks are presented almost as temples and chapels in their own twisted way. The opening titles, with a slow aerial pan over Chicago, are iconic, and the ethereal soundtrack by Philip Glass is the perfect accompaniment.
And of course there’s the Candyman himself, played awesomely with the hauntingly bass tones of Tony Todd. Some might find his longcoated look a bit over the top, but it presents an instantly recognizable silhouette, and whenever he appears, it makes an immediate impact upon the frame. By sheer screen presence does he create an allure unto himself, and puts him alongside other horror icons instantly for me.
Of course Madsen does a fine job herself as the film progresses, with Helen slowly descending into madness as her obsession takes a hold of her—though it’s telling that Todd seems to the real star even if he isn’t on screen that much. I won’t say much more without going into all the intricacies of the plot, but needless to say, Candyman holds up sublimely for me, and remains enjoyable on every level.
There were sequels, of course, which nobody in the world seems to care about, and in 2021 there was a sequel/reboot produced by Jordan Peele following on only for the original. It took a much more specific focus on racial justice for its theme, which is fair enough in this day and age, and while it was a decent effort, it suffered from a very obviously rewritten last act and, well, a lack of Todd (mostly) to provide that all-important impactful screen presence, with the replacement Candyman not really a match for him to be honest.
But aside from a lack of smartphones and some of the fashions, the original applies just as well to current viewing by itself—I say give it a watch if you haven’t already. And see if you fancy standing in front of a mirror afterwards…
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