CANDYMAN – I’ve always liked Bernard Rose’s original, but I’ve never loved it. I went into Nia DaCosta’s revision without the kind of expectations that usually inspire lots of yowling on the part of ‘the fans’, hoping only that it would at least offer something as interesting as Tony Todd, Phillip Glass and images of mouths full of bees. I wasn’t disappointed at all. It’s a really classy piece of filmmaking that in many ways surpasses the original; different approach, different themes, different look, but still there’s a guy running around with a hook for a hand, what more do you want. Aesthetically it’s very nice. There’s plenty of blood spilled between all the pretty shots, and the splatter itself looks highly finessed. This lovely visual sensibility occasionally tips over into outright flamboyance – what about the murder of that art critic? Such a great manoeuvre, could’ve easily found a home in an Argento flick. ‘Candyman’ also contains little bits and pieces that always tick a box in my horror-hungry heart, namely the presence of ‘the haunted art object’ and Seth Brundle-esque transformative body horror. Neither are quite mined to the fullest extent, but they’re there. Social commentary, always part of the original, is more of a pressing concern in this movie, and it hits the mark on racist oppression, cultural capital, class and gentrification without becoming an essay. Just in sheer dramatic terms I thought it fell down a bit at the end, with the ceremonial creation of the new candyman – it seemed a bit blunt after such a well-manicured build – but overall, I thought it really worked. Tony T even turns up pre-credits, which was nice. There, that’s only four mentions of ‘candyman’ so far – phew. Don’t ask me if I’m looking in a mirror though, I always am.
 |