Candyman review: Nia DaCosta’s sequel puts real-life horrors at the forefront

1992’s Candyman is one of the most memorable and terrifying horror films of all time. Written and directed by Bernard Rose, the film is ostensibly about a spiritual villain with a hook for a hand who can be summoned by saying his name five times in a mirror. But once you get past that unnerving premise, Candyman is really about the downward spiral of poverty and violence. Set in the (now demolished) Cabrini Green low-income housing projects in Chicago, the film takes a hard look at the devastating effects of wealth disparity and how poverty and dangerous living conditions can contribute to a life of fear and violence that most outsiders can hardly fathom.

Director and co-writer Nia DaCosta (Little Woods) has now refreshed the story for a new generation with the upcoming Candyman, a strong sequel that adds a fascinating new spin on the character while updating the circumstances and surroundings of the story to reflect today’s realities.

Anthony McCoy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Us) is a visual artist struggling to make a name for himself and find the inspiration for his next project. He lives with (and is supported by) his girlfriend Brianna Cartwright (Teyonah Parris, WandaVision) an art gallery director who uses her pull to get Anthony a space at the gallery’s upcoming show. The couple lives in a sprawling condo on the grounds that used to house the Cabrini Green apartments, the old stomping ground for Candyman, but Anthony and Brianna’s generation have no knowledge of the old urban legend or of the grisly murders from decades prior.

That all changes when Anthony encounters William Burke (the intense Colman Domingo), a former Cabrini Green resident who tells Anthony the legend about Candyman. Fascinated by the tale, Anthony eagerly shares the stories with Brianna and her brother (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett) and his boyfriend (Kyle Kaminsky). While they fail to share his enthusiasm about a decades-old alleged boogeyman, Anthony becomes obsessed with Candyman. Driven towards darker work by a sleazy gallery owner (Brian King), Anthony begins obsessively creating more disturbing tableaus, while a recent bee sting on his hand becomes infected and mysteriously spreads all over his body, slowly disfiguring him and changing him from the inside out.

Based on a sharp screenplay by Win Rosenfeld and Jordan Peele (Peele also serves as producer for the film), this new take on Candyman fundamentally changes our understanding of the character in new and exciting ways. Without spoiling anything, the supernatural Candyman is barely the focus of this sequel. Set squarely in the present, the epidemic of rampant gentrification and unchecked police violence are the true horrors at the heart of Nia DaCosta’s Candyman. In many ways, this puts Candyman more in line with today’s struggles and expands the scope of a Black horror monster into something far more impactful and meaningful than someone with a hook terrorizing residents of low-income housing.

While the socio-political angles and reclamation of the character are a welcome addition to the mythos, there is something lost in translation from the 1992 film. The original Candyman was problematic in many ways (take a look at the incredible Horror Noire documentary on Shudder for more on this) but it had a mesmerizing tone and pacing that remains haunting to this day. Much of that is due to the unforgettable central performance of Tony Todd in the role of Daniel Robitaille / Candyman, who added a dark romanticism and rumbling otherworldliness to the role.

Much of that sense of magic is lost in this version, where Candyman (Michael Hargrove) barely utters a word as he eerily shuffles through the same claustrophobic walls we first navigated back in the ‘90s. Part of that is built into this new version of the character and the updated mythos, but it still robs the film of what made Candyman one of the most iconic creatures in the horror canon.

While the supernatural horror elements of this version of Candyman are toned way down, the film excels on a visual level. DaCosta has a great sense of composition, and even the conversation scenes are visually striking. DaCosta also adds a fairy-tale sense of storytelling with the inclusion of puppet shadow shows to highlight the events of the first film and to expand on the backstory, a compelling way to fill in the blanks without resorting to endless flashbacks (though there are some of those too).

At just 91 minutes, there is a lot going on in Candyman, and the end result feels a bit scattered and rushed. We barely get to know Anthony before he’s quickly off the deep end and fanatically drawn into the darkness of his new work, which drains the transformation of any real emotional stakes. We also don’t get much of the great interplay between Anthony and Brianna before things go south, which leaves their story feeling largely underdeveloped. Thankfully, there are at least some great moments between Brianna’s brother and his partner to add some levity to what is a decidedly stark film.

Nia DaCosta has delivered a refreshing update on the Candyman mythos that speaks to how trauma can continue to reverberate down through the generations. You may be able to bulldoze the Cabrini Green projects to put up a Whole Foods, but the lingering (and continuing) horrors a community has had to endure don’t evaporate as easily. Trauma leaves a mark, and for subsequent generations, a man with a hook for a hand has nothing on the sound of approaching police sirens. You may as well say his name; there are worse things to fear.

Candyman is in theatres on August 27.