Horror Noire of the 1990s: Candyman

Candyman (1992)

Director/Writer: Bernard Rose

Starring: Tony Todd, Virginia Madsen, Kasi Lemmons, Vanessa E. Williams

"You were not content with the stories, so I was obliged to come."

Based on Clive Barker’s short story of the same name, Candyman is a masterpiece of modern horror cinema which has withstood the test of time. In addition, the movie has a basis in reality, incorporating details of the 1987 murder of Ruthie Mae McCoy. It’s also my personal favorite. I was six the year it came out and I remember staying up late to watch it with my auntie. I think it resonates so deeply because it’s the first movie that really scared me, and that was because there was something particularly unnerving about a horror movie villain who looked like me. 

The story follows Chicago grad student Helen, who is working on a paper about folklore and urban legends with her friend Bernadette. Interesting fact: Bernadette is played by Kasi Lemmons, who would go on to direct another seminal film in the Black horror cannon: Eve’s Bayou (1997). During her research, Helen finds out about the Candyman, a malicious spirit who terrorizes the residents of the notorious Cabrini-Green housing project.

He lives within mirrors, and can be summoned by standing in front of one and saying his name five times. This comes with a price, as he will violently dispatch whoever summoned him with his trademark rusted hook, which is shoved into the bloody hole left by his missing hand. In life, he was a Black artist in the late 19th century, who was murdered for his relationship with the daughter of a wealthy white man. His deceptively sweet moniker, Candyman, stems from the brutal way in which he was killed. Throughout the movie, he becomes increasingly fixated on Helen, leaving a trail of blood and destruction in his wake on his mission to possess her for eternity. 

Like all effective horror, Candyman is also a social critique, albeit a flawed one in that sense. Helen is the wife of a tenured professor, and their luxury apartment sits in the shadow of Cabrini-Green, one of the most crime and poverty-stricken places in the city. This is a visual representation of both gentrification and white detachment from the plight of the marginalized. For Helen, visiting the housing project is a field trip; poverty tourism, if you will. She carelessly violates social rules and contracts just like an outsider would, and quickly reaps the consequences. 

There is also a white savior component, as Helen fully inserts herself into the affairs of the project residents. The fact that the commentary doesn’t seem to be particularly self-aware ironically makes it feel more authentic, because the director is an out-of-touch white man honestly depicting an out-of-touch white woman. Either way, Tony Todd absolutely steals the goddamn show. His imposing, 6’5” form dominates the screen, while his sonorous baritone moves easily between menacing whisper and sinister (and sexy, to be honest) growl. To this day, I think he is more frightening than Candyman, and to this day, I’ll swing on you for tryna be funny in the mirror. I almost put my mama in a headlock, don’t play. 

When it comes down to it, though, Candyman is just like any Black person: He’ll leave you alone as long as you keep his name out your mouth.