Candyman
The 1980s of course was The Golden Age Of The Franchise Horror Movie Villains, an era that produced horror films with sequels where the bad guy (usually of a supernatural stature) was always the main selling point to the extent that horror fans would come out almost to cheer on evil characters who were doing bad things. Freddy, Jason, Michael, Tall Man and several others became iconic over the course of that storied decade. Come the early 90s and the pattern began to die down somewhat as the stories ran out of originality and many of these figures themselves were losing their zip. Leave it to Clive Barker (who had already created one of the biggest successes in the entire field with Hellraiser’s Pinhead) in 1992 to inspire a movie based on his book The Forbidden and bring us perhaps the LAST of the great horror franchise villains (before horror became more of a matter of showing us pretty and / or presentable hip young actors taking on masked killers of an anonymous nature) in what would stretch itself out to be a full blown trilogy (although Parts 2 and 3 were certainly of a more low budget nature than the first). That character obviously was none other than The Candyman, also once known as Daniel Robitaille, whose backstory was as enigmatically fascinating as any other. Apparently he was a black man in 1890 who was the son of a former slave whom had made a fortune off of an invention which he had created. Growing up in a privileged lifestyle that was literally foreign to other black people at the time, Candyman attended the best schools and seemed to find himself predominantly accepted by the white people at that time, but he ran into trouble when he impregnated a (virgin) white girl whose equally rich father had him suffer a horrifically painful death, getting his hand hacked off before being stung to death by a pack of bees and as the grand finale being burned down to ashes which were then scattered over what one day would become the Cabrini Green projects in Chicago. Fast forward 100 years later and Candyman is the most feared urban legend in the city, believed responsible for scores of murders where the victims were dismembered by a large, rusty hook (the replacement for his hand) and able to be conjured up simply by looking in the mirror and saying his name five times in a row. More interestingly, Candyman has come to represent the symbolic cause for the poor African Americans’ various problems while living in the ghetto, with the aforementioned Cabrini Green projects being the epicenter for his legend as it seems that EVERYBODY there knows who he is. As played by Tony Todd, he becomes a towering figure of horror, unusually eloquent and well spoken (much like Pinhead actually) but is also someone who looks upon the poor black people of Cabrini Green who live in fear of just his name alone as being his “congregation”, giving the impression of the juxtaposition of said fear going along with almost being worshipped as a god (or at least an immortal being who fears no retribution through death since he is already dead) and Todd (a longtime character actor getting his due here as a genuine starring presence) brings amazing gravitas to the part, drawing the viewer into the mystery surrounding him (much of his backstory is recited by an unreliably goofy college professor) with many of the answers behind his motives never being truly explained except for his need to take an occasional victim in order to keep his legend alive. However, the one constant with a lot of great horror movie legends is in having that equally strong female character to stand up to him and ultimately defeat him, with such great examples as Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson and Kirsty Cotton. Here we get no less than an Oscar Nominated actress (and major star during the 1980s who achieved a huge comeback in later years) in one Virgina Madsen as Helen Lyle, a college grad student (married to a professor) who along with her best friend (Kasi Lemmons who also played a best friend to Jodie Foster in The Silence Of The Lambs) are preparing a thesis paper on local urban legends and whether or not there’s any truth or credibility to them. That leads them to Candyman (a known story even amongst the white students at the college) and soon they venture directly into the Cabrini Green projects themselves, a known hellhole dominated by drug dealing gangs (at least one of which has a leader who directly emulates Candyman) and a handful of frightened types who are just too damn poor to live anywhere else. As good as Todd is as Candyman, Madsen might be even better, collecting her data in the first half of the film before turning on the powerhouse acting in the second half, reportedly even allowing herself to be hypnotized for certain scenes so as to better sell the idea that Candyman has her under some sort of a spell. Apparently when Madsen was trying out the stated way of summoning him to see if it was true, Candyman did NOT appear right away but rather bided his time, watching her instead as she dug deeper into the myth in an attempt to debunk it and only appearing to her as a vision seemingly trying to seduce her into joining him (and being his victim) of her own free will. To this end (and this is the disturbing part), Candyman proceeds to kill and destroy everything in her life without actually harming her just so he can ask the simple question “why would you still want to live?”. Again, exactly why he would pick Madsen for this “honor” is never fully or satisfactorily explained (although she might either be the reincarnation of the girl he impregnated in the 1890s or rather just somebody who reminds him of her). He also has kidnapped the baby of a Cabrini Green resident in order to gain himself some leverage with Madsen (whose inherent goodness is the polar opposite of Candyman’s bloodthirsty nature), stating that he will kill the baby in her place if she refuses to go along with him, but if she finally concedes, then the baby will be returned unharmed. And what’s in it for Madsen? Well, there’s immortality for one thing, plus the idea that she will walk with Candyman forever and the two of them will now be feared and remembered for all times. Certainly, the notion of having your horror bad guy choose a victim as being a “special” one (as opposed to the other people whom he just slaughters wholesale indiscriminately) with the idea being that she has to be fully willing to accept that awful fate (as he does everything he can to ensure that she does) is a fresh one by 80s horror standards (whereas usually the great horror heroines are always able to outsmart and elude their pursuers who would like nothing more than to kill them as quickly as possible) which along with the definite possibility that the demonically evil Candyman might not be necessarily willing to go along with any actual terms and conditions that have been set in place (perhaps Madsen would really be giving up her soul rather than just be another mere butchered victim) is what defines this character (and the franchise itself) from all the others, the almost romantic notion of finding both power and freedom within death itself, something which Candyman states is a “blessed condition” especially if those amongst the living still fear you and the wrath you are capable of bringing upon them. As if these elements weren’t enjoyable enough, it must be said that this film also boasts one of the greatest instrumental scores ever composed for this genre by Philip Glass, not just a constant motif like those found in Halloween or Elm Street or even The Exorcist, but rather a music score worthy of an epic film that takes moments which some might not find believable and elevating them to the level of a grand drama or tragedy (with this being most apparent during the climax) with a final twist ending that in and of itself is a classic moment also. While Madsen would bow out of future confrontations in the sequels, Tony Todd would continue on in the franchise trilogy, usually with the stories involving another “special” victim whom he must seduce as well as terrorize, and with his deep, melancholic voice (which is obviously enhanced electronically similar to what was done with Englund as Freddy) and surprisingly overwhelming screen presence (mostly playing Candyman with very little facial makeup), he would get the job done time and time again in order to prove that (with some exceptions) many of the legends of horror require a great actor to get it just right…
9/10