the colonial theatre marquee


Directed by Bernard Rose. US. 1992. R. 99 minutes. Sony. 35mm.
Fri., February 1, 2013
February 1, 2013
9:45 pm

“When “Candyman” (directed by the visionary Bernard Rose, who was responsible for 1988’s Paperhouse) was released in late 1992, it became a surprise darkhorse smash and damn near stole “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” thunder on the pages of Fangoria. Helen Lyle (played with consummate early-’90s sexiness by Virginia Madsen) is a Chicago grad student working with a colleague on a thesis about modern urban legends and how disenfranchised minorities use them as a detachment strategy to absolve themselves, supposedly, of their own responsibility in the creation of their dire situation. Before long, she uncovers the Candyman myth, which centers around the notorious Cabrini-Green complex (literally, a modern-day forbidden turret). Though Helen’s intentions are undoubtedly good, director Rose (working with a Clive Barker short story) seems to recognize the inherent futility behind her middle-class, ivory-towered, bleeding-heart quest (early on, he repeatedly shows her seeming to feign interest in interviewing, for instance, the school’s black janitors—smoking as though she can’t wait to get back to civilization). So, beginning with a dinner scene in which she is mocked by a pompous professor (who informs her in no uncertain terms she’s breaking no new ground), “Candyman” charts the systematic social degradation inflicted upon Helen by her mentors, militant Cabrini-Green gang members, the police, her husband, and ultimately the Candyman himself. Played by Tony Todd (and his velvety basso profundo voice), the Candyman is a svelte, sexual monument, far removed from the silent brutality of your average serial slasher. Rose’s dizzy, Jungle Fever-ish romanticism is juxtaposed against his cold, Cronenbergian dystopia to create “Candyman’s” uniquely baroque use of modern urban blight, subtle political undercurrents, and hints of fallen woman melodrama. It creates a startlingly effective shocker that gains power upon further, sleepless-night reflection.” (Eric Henderson,