Synopsis
You don't have to believe... just beware.
The Candyman, a murderous soul with a hook for a hand, is accidentally summoned to reality by a skeptic grad student researching the monster's myth.
1992 Directed by Bernard Rose
The Candyman, a murderous soul with a hook for a hand, is accidentally summoned to reality by a skeptic grad student researching the monster's myth.
Candyman 1, Candyman, El Dominio de la Mente, Кэндимен, Кондитер
90’s neo-gothic saccharine. Loaded with subtext and oodles of everything that makes me love the first half of that decades horror way more than its second half. Everyone’s great here and that score is to die for. Special shoutout to sleazeball all timer Xander Berkeley—never trust a man who calls you sweetie pie.
In a decade filled with some of my all time favorite genre jams, Candyman is easily My favorite 90’s horror film... by a MILLION miles—nothing even comes close for me and it only gets better with each revisit. That final scene is aces... I love this thing.
Rotten Tomatoes: 75%
Metacritic Metascore: 61
IMDb: 6.6
85/100
Release Date: 16 October 1992
Distributor: TriStar Pictures
Budget: $6M
Worldwide Gross: $25.7M
Total Film Awards: 5
Candyman: "Beeee my victim..."
SYNOPSIS: The Candyman, a murderous soul with a hook for a hand, is accidentally summoned to reality by a skeptic grad student researching the monster's myth.
What a ride!
This underrated gem features a very rare and successful combination of both creepy atmosphere and visual ingeniousness. Whereas most movies (especially during the '90s) can hardly focus on any of these essential horror elements, Bernard Rose masterfully succeeds in stuffing his film with genuine tension as well as shocking gore-images.
TRIVIA: Tony Todd negotiated a bonus of $1,000 for every bee…
“Be my victim!”
Candyman, which plays more like a ‘70s giallo, than a straight up slasher; takes its sweet time getting to the “fun” parts. The first half is dialogue driven with sprinkles of jump scares designed to tease the audience until the iconic Candyman appears to fuck a motherfucker up. Virginia Madsen gives the Marlboro Man Stage 4 Lung Cancer with the amount of cigarettes she puffs on as she works on her thesis on Urban Legends, and crosses paths with the wrong motherfucker with a hook for a hand.
Tony Todd is one scary fucker. He brings real fear and anxiety to his Candyman. He’s vicious to the bone and badder than a junkyard dog. Plus, he dresses…
uses gentrification and academia in chicago as an access point to the trauma of slavery being painted over in reconstruction, before jumping off into a moody urban folklore dream where historical pain is mythologized and martyred in the form of tony todd's candyman whose incredible physical presence, reverberating voice and vicious acts of violence serve to draw (and heighten) his feelings of longing and rage into something tangible and fleshy. between the excellent location work and Don't Look Now's cinematographer anthony b. richmond there's a lot of grimey detail and texture to the images which amplifies clive barker's nasty writing (which shares a lot of Hellraiser's beautifully grotesque/perverse pain & pleasure elements) and phillip glass's dreamy score. not quite sure how…
There are big ideas in this movie. The generational legacy of racist trauma, the ways that trauma can embed itself in the ground itself, and the extent to which our world is built on the wreckage of that trauma. Unfortunately, they aren’t carried through the length of the film. By the third act, the ideas are largely jettisoned. What’s left is still a thrilling and terrifying supernatural slasher, but I think the movie could have gone to so many interesting places if the filmmakers had carried through on the premise. Still, I see why this is a horror classic. Start to finish, it’s one of the most compelling movies in its genre I’ve ever seen.
Addendum: Compelling argument here that the through line of the film is white liberal fear of the black underclass.
Was a 66, now a 93
The new Scream Factory release is truly excellent, really enriching the indelible production design and giving life-force to Phillip Glass' astonishing score. The movie itself might have grown on me a little too, I guess. Just a masterclass in dissecting the invisible barriers between spaces, and the limits of white privilege. Every cut and scare is loaded in texture and meaning.
How gays summon candyman:
Miss vanjie
Miss vanjieee
Miss vanjieeeeeeeee
Miss vanjieeeeeeeeeeee
Miss vanjie...
Candyman in the mirror: WORK SISTER!!
okay, i dug it.
tony todd's voice reverberates through walls and seems to have existed before the dawn of time. he feels humongous- a man of legend, not reality. he shows up almost an hour into the movie and dominates it completely. virginia madsen can't quite keep up with him but her eyes are so large and she cries so well that i forgive her.
one of the most interesting interpretations of this film that i've seen is that the mr. candyman- son of a slave, a painter, a lover, a victim-isn't real. there's only "the candyman". he never existed as man, only as a figure. his backstory, so painstakingly repeated again and again throughout the movie, was hodge-podged through…
white people love to say candyman five times and then get mad when they die like damn what’d you expect? a gummy worm? fuck off
This has a banger of a theme
Also, just give him BEE powers instead of making him taste like honey. That's a dumb horror power. I also would've liked it better if the hook was a bit more threatening.
This has loads of potential to be god tier
Don‘t mind me, being sliiightly tense after watching this before going to bed.
A really unique horror film with a ton of room for interpretation and social commentary, I‘m looking forward to seeing what the remake will be like.
A classic horror I had yet to see but I was really impressed. I am HYPED for the 2021 remake.
i thought this movie was just okay, but I gave it four stars because i fucking love the message of telling white anthropologists to stop being so fucking annoying
candyman is rich with mythology and clever storytelling and social commentary and gorgeous aesthetics and it should be lauded as a classic on the same level as like, the exorcist, and this is the fucking hill i’ll die on
Overall good performances, and a decent script/idea. I think there are a few places where this film feels dated. So I’m excited for the new movie coming out. I have some complicated feelings about how they dealt with race in this movie (was this a white savior film?), and I’m going to need to take time to unpack some of that. I could be reading too much into it, but I don’t know...
She kinda bad doe 😳
Bro I couldn’t even get scared, I was just too mesmerized by the lead’s eyes the entire time
would 100% reccomend exited for the sequel to come out this year interesting story and great character development
such a breath of fresh air even 30 years later, and that it’s so clearly full of love for folklore + its conventions just ... it’s delightful seeing so much passion clearly have gone into something
OMG the way the Gothic soundtrack make contrast to the dirty urban trashy decadence imagery is really poetic sometimes. kinda wished the racism, segregation and social dynamics into the american ghettos would've been taken somewhere deeper by the plot denouement or at least a little bit better explored in the subtext.
There are big ideas in this movie. The generational legacy of racist trauma, the ways that trauma can embed itself in the ground itself, and the extent to which our world is built on the wreckage of that trauma. Unfortunately, they aren’t carried through the length of the film. By the third act, the ideas are largely jettisoned. What’s left is still a thrilling and terrifying supernatural slasher, but I think the movie could have gone to so many interesting places if the filmmakers had carried through on the premise. Still, I see why this is a horror classic. Start to finish, it’s one of the most compelling movies in its genre I’ve ever seen.
Addendum: Compelling argument here that the through line of the film is white liberal fear of the black underclass.
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