I like the new Candyman. I don't love it, but I like it a lot. This film co-written and directed by Nia DaCosta wants to be the Wes Craven's New Nightmare of this franchise, and whenever it reaches that level, it hits a home run — especially when it comes to the eponymous monster, who has never been more sinister or menacing (Tony Todd, who originated the role in 1992, appears in a limited but effective capacity that transcends mere fanservice).
Speaking of 1992, DaCosta, who was three years old at the time, would not have been able to bring this project to fruition without the invaluable help of co-writers Jordan Peele and Win Rosenfeld, who know the material inside out and treat it with the same reverence that they it doubtless without inspired in them when they first encounter it in their teens. The filmmakers even get the comic relief right, and that’s not something too many horror flicks can brag about.
The original Candyman "was a horror movie that scared with ideas and blood, instead of just blood" (Ebert); the new version lives up to this standard, creating a foreboding atmosphere with practical special effects rather than CGI.
For example, mirrors are Candyman's portal into our world, and the film makes the most of every reflecting surface — like when the protagonist, Anthony McCoy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) gets into an elevator that somehow doubles as hall of mirrors.
The present co-exists nicely with the past (another touch as brilliant as bringing Todd back is using Virginia Madsen's voice on recordings made by her character in the first film) in Candyman, but the future is cause for concern.
This is not a remake, much less a reboot, but there is a 'passing the torch' — or, in this case, the hook — which I fear is meant to pave the way for more sequels. I can only hope that DaCosta, Peele, and Rosenfeld really appreciate Candyman as much as I think they do, and that having restored his dignity, they allow him to ride off into the sunset with it intact.
