Candyman is a sequel to the 1992 film of the same name, this time brought to us by director, Nia DaCosta, who also co-wrote the film with producers, Jordan Peele and Win Rosenfeld. And yes, you read that right, this is, in fact, a sequel. While it may do a decent enough job standing on its own, it does have some very direct connections and references to the original film that would make it worth a revisit or a first time watch in case you haven’t gotten around to it. You should also check it out cause it’s a pretty good movie.
This new film follows Anthony McCoy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), a struggling artist, who lives with his girlfriend, Brianna Cartwright (Teyonah Parris), who is also an art gallery director who is trying to help him with his career. They have a nice condo in what is now the heavily gentrified Chicago neighborhood of Cabrini Green. After a chance encounter with a Cabrini local named William Burke (Colman Domingo), Anthony learns of, and becomes obsessed with the legend of the Candyman, which they say, if you say his name five times while looking in the mirror, he’ll show in the reflection, and kill you.
As he dives deep into the myth of Candyman, Anthony uses the story to inspire his art, bringing more and more attention to a seemingly lost urban legend. When this happens, people start dying, and Anthony himself starts to find himself experiencing strange things, and even seeing some strange changes to his body following a sting from a bee. And of course, as the film goes on, we learn more about Anthony, and some potential connections to the myth and his past, which sets him on a path of discovery as well as self-destruction, much to the dismay of his concerned girlfriend.
Even with the original, there was a compelling exploration of violence, legends, and the way they intertwine with the Black experience in America. The filmmakers double down on that element, bringing a more clear focus on these themes through a Black lens. However, there is a clunkiness to it. Since much of the film takes place in the Chicago art scene, and Anthony’s involves the Candyman into his art, the film often has extensive discourse baked into the film in a very literal manner, with characters explaining the film’s thematic fascinations, especially with its takes on gentrification, in a way that feels weirdly obvious and flat.
It helps that Nia DaCosta really steps up her game as a visual stylist compared to her excellent debut, Little Woods, which had emphasized intimate, handheld camerawork and muted, Earthy colors. This time around, with cinematographer, John Guleserian, she captures Chicago’s neighborhoods and cityscapes with a sense of relentless unease, like something dark is lurking, and there is no escape. I wouldn’t call the film terrifying necessarily, but DaCosta stages the horror sequences really well, and Robert A. A. Lowe’s score adds a nice, brooding atmosphere. And I never got tired of the use of shadows and cutouts whenever the film told the myths. It’s a striking touch that I really loved, and it plays so well cinematically.
Yahya Abdul-Mateen II really shines in the film, not just because he feels like the only fully fleshed out character, but also because he carries the film with ease. He does a lot of really subtle work, especially with his shifts in character as the film goes on. We’ve seen characters and character arcs like this before, but he really sells this in a way that brings all the legitimately effective horror elements. He also has the funniest joke in the film, and has solid chemistry with Parris, who has a good presence, but doesn’t really get as much to do as I would have hoped. Most of the other players are either comic relief, victims, or pieces of the puzzle. But I will say that Colman Domingo has a voice that is born for urban legend monologues.
If there’s one thing you can say about Candyman, it’s that it has a lot on its mind, from the feeling of abandonment felt by Black communities, to the cycles of violence perpetrated by white supremacy, to the commodification and commercialization of Black experiences for non-Black consumers, and more. I admire what the script is going for, but I don’t think it all ultimately clicks. DaCosta definitely cements herself as a filmmaker to watch, and yet one can’t help but imagine a better film had the script contained some of the rugged and intimate qualities that made her debut so effective. This might be coming across as negative, but I think the film is pretty solid and effective for the most part, it’s certainly better than the other Candyman sequels from what I remember, but it doesn’t reach the heights that I know the filmmakers are capable of.
Candyman is now out in theaters.