HORROR: Tony Todd scarred me as a child, and this is why.
"They will say that I have shed innocent blood.
What's blood for, if not for shedding?"
CANDYMAN
(1992)
Directed by: Bernard Rose.
Starring: Virgina Madsen and Tony Todd.
Rated: R for extreme violence and gore.
Okay, so I first saw Candyman years ago (and, considering how graphic the film is, I was really too young at the time). It's been at least ten years since I watched it, and I found myself suddenly wanting to watch it again. Apparently I decided that I'd sufficiently recovered from the trauma and was feeling a bit self-destructive.
Let me tell you: this is NOT a film for the squeamish. Yes, it was made in 1992, but that doesn't mean that this isn't an incredibly gory film with realistic special effects. While there aren't quite as many buckets of blood splashed about as in Peter Jackson's cult classic Dead Alive, there are PLENTY of exposed guts and burnt flesh and bloody arm stumps (ew).
This film isn't just gory: it's disturbing. There are images that leave a real psychological impact, and the underlying themes of urban decay, racial conflict, and personal responsibility are hefty. This, my dears, is a creepy film that will linger, whether you want it to or not. Do NOT watch it after dark.
I think we can thank (blame?) the Master of the Macabre, Clive Barker for that. Say what you will about Mr. Barker, but he sure knows how to tap in to some of the weirdest, creepiest, most disgusting and basest fears. Barker gave us the S&M poster-boy Pinhead and his misshapen Centibites (Hellraiser), the eyeless monstrosity that is the Lord of Illusions, and all manner of other creepy crawlies in his twisted and bizarro novels and short stories. People like to point fingers at Stephen King when talking about horror and traumatizing imagery, but let me tell you that Uncle Stevie is tame when compared to his friend Clive.
Tony Todd plays the hook-wielding killer of the title, and he does a MASTERFUL job of making the Candyman both immensely creepy and strangely seductive: it must be that deep African American voice of his. The Candyman is a conglomeration of urban myths and archetypes -- like Bloody Mary, he must be summoned in front of mirror by someone brave/stupid enough to call his name five times; he was a freed slave who dared to fall in love with a white woman; and he kills with not only his hook, like the Hook Man who preys upon young lovers necking in the woods, but also with the swarm of deadly bees that were used against him by angry townsfolk.
Virgina Madsen is Helen, the naive and curious grad student who is researching the Candyman myth for her graduate thesis with her friend Bernadette. Of course Helen makes the mistake of summoning the Candyman; and, as it turns out, she is more linked to him than it would first seem. In the course of the film, a series of gruesome murders take place, with Helen caught at the center of them.
All the while, running in the background, are the issues of intercity tension, gang and drug problems, racial tensions in urban centers, and the issues of personal responsibility and self-sacrifice. Yes, this is a violent slasher film, a monster movie, an urban legend horror flick. But, as in most of Barker's films, there are psychological and philosophical undercurrents. The sanctity, and fragility, of both the mind and body provides much of the horror: being chased by a serial killer is scary enough, but to be chased by a monster no one else can see, to be half-convinced that you're going insane, and to know that something invisible can still harm you -- that is the real horror of Candyman. Just as Freddy of the Nightmare on Elm Street films can attack you when you're at your most vulnerable and defenseless -- in your dreams -- so to can the Candyman.
If I haven't made this clear, this is one hella creepy film. It has quite a slow build, compared to most horror films, but once the slaughter and unease begin, it doesn't let up until the credits begin to roll -- literally. Even after my second viewing and ten years of stewing, I'm still not sure if I've fully absorbed the movie. It's certainly one that sticks with you, and for some it's sure to provide ample nightmare fodder.
On a scale of 1 to 10: Candyman gets an atmospheric, chilling 7.
What's blood for, if not for shedding?"
CANDYMAN
(1992)
Directed by: Bernard Rose.
Starring: Virgina Madsen and Tony Todd.
Rated: R for extreme violence and gore.
Okay, so I first saw Candyman years ago (and, considering how graphic the film is, I was really too young at the time). It's been at least ten years since I watched it, and I found myself suddenly wanting to watch it again. Apparently I decided that I'd sufficiently recovered from the trauma and was feeling a bit self-destructive.
Let me tell you: this is NOT a film for the squeamish. Yes, it was made in 1992, but that doesn't mean that this isn't an incredibly gory film with realistic special effects. While there aren't quite as many buckets of blood splashed about as in Peter Jackson's cult classic Dead Alive, there are PLENTY of exposed guts and burnt flesh and bloody arm stumps (ew).
This film isn't just gory: it's disturbing. There are images that leave a real psychological impact, and the underlying themes of urban decay, racial conflict, and personal responsibility are hefty. This, my dears, is a creepy film that will linger, whether you want it to or not. Do NOT watch it after dark.
I think we can thank (blame?) the Master of the Macabre, Clive Barker for that. Say what you will about Mr. Barker, but he sure knows how to tap in to some of the weirdest, creepiest, most disgusting and basest fears. Barker gave us the S&M poster-boy Pinhead and his misshapen Centibites (Hellraiser), the eyeless monstrosity that is the Lord of Illusions, and all manner of other creepy crawlies in his twisted and bizarro novels and short stories. People like to point fingers at Stephen King when talking about horror and traumatizing imagery, but let me tell you that Uncle Stevie is tame when compared to his friend Clive.
Tony Todd plays the hook-wielding killer of the title, and he does a MASTERFUL job of making the Candyman both immensely creepy and strangely seductive: it must be that deep African American voice of his. The Candyman is a conglomeration of urban myths and archetypes -- like Bloody Mary, he must be summoned in front of mirror by someone brave/stupid enough to call his name five times; he was a freed slave who dared to fall in love with a white woman; and he kills with not only his hook, like the Hook Man who preys upon young lovers necking in the woods, but also with the swarm of deadly bees that were used against him by angry townsfolk.
Virgina Madsen is Helen, the naive and curious grad student who is researching the Candyman myth for her graduate thesis with her friend Bernadette. Of course Helen makes the mistake of summoning the Candyman; and, as it turns out, she is more linked to him than it would first seem. In the course of the film, a series of gruesome murders take place, with Helen caught at the center of them.
All the while, running in the background, are the issues of intercity tension, gang and drug problems, racial tensions in urban centers, and the issues of personal responsibility and self-sacrifice. Yes, this is a violent slasher film, a monster movie, an urban legend horror flick. But, as in most of Barker's films, there are psychological and philosophical undercurrents. The sanctity, and fragility, of both the mind and body provides much of the horror: being chased by a serial killer is scary enough, but to be chased by a monster no one else can see, to be half-convinced that you're going insane, and to know that something invisible can still harm you -- that is the real horror of Candyman. Just as Freddy of the Nightmare on Elm Street films can attack you when you're at your most vulnerable and defenseless -- in your dreams -- so to can the Candyman.
If I haven't made this clear, this is one hella creepy film. It has quite a slow build, compared to most horror films, but once the slaughter and unease begin, it doesn't let up until the credits begin to roll -- literally. Even after my second viewing and ten years of stewing, I'm still not sure if I've fully absorbed the movie. It's certainly one that sticks with you, and for some it's sure to provide ample nightmare fodder.
On a scale of 1 to 10: Candyman gets an atmospheric, chilling 7.