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Candyman

Who can take a mirror? Sprinkle it with goo? Cover it with viscera and an intestine or two? The Candy Man. Oh, the Candy Man can. That's where my mind strayed during this film - thinking of a variation on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. In this version, Gene Wilder turns his hand to child-killing, and you don't have to stretch your 'pure' imagination too much to see that Wonka's not too far removed from that. So, I blame that song being played over the opening credits for my wandering thoughts.

This film (Candyman, not Wonka) is a remake of/sequel to the 1992 original of the same name, where a crazed ghost (?) is summoned to kill anyone who's thick enough to say his name in the mirror five times. The new version, directed by Nia DaCosta and co-written and produced by Jordan Peele, attempts to update the story by making it about gentrification of the projects (incidentally, a word that means bugger all to non-Americans, I'd reckon) and seems to go so far as to suggest that the pan-dimensional lolly-giver is a hero of sorts. The sort that cleaves and hacks people with a meat hook. The beginning sets out its stall to finger the white cops as the baddies, while holding fire on the glorification of the Candy Man, at least until the final third.

There are loads of confusing choices made by characters (and the writers), which had me scrabbling to remember if I'd seen the original, as there are quite a few references to that film. Let's just say the lead, Anthony, played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen ll, is inextricably linked to the events that occurred in 1992. The acting is pretty ropey, especially from the laundromat guy, but nobody really rises above the material here. The ending loses its way with about 10 minutes to go but I was well nonplussed by this time anyway.

Oh, I didn't mind the bees, so there's that, I guess. And the end credits were nicely done - in a kind of silhouette marionette style. But crucially, there are precious few scares, a bit of a bummer for this kind of film. The body horror bits are the most uncomfortable but they're more squirm-inducing than frightening. Hands up, I don't really see many horror films but I'd wager this doesn't even satisfy its target market. I could be wrong.

See also:

For superior body horror, a David Cronenberg film should see you right. I'd favour Videodrome (1983). And try re-watching the aforementioned Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971), directed by Mel Stuart, but with Wonka as a serial killer. It probably should have been the Depp remake.

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