Bride of Mirror Man
Candyman (1992)
directed by Bernard Rose
rating: 2 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from Netflix
I’d love to see some statistics to back up director Bernard Rose’s claim that black audiences loved finally having a horror franchise of their own. However aware Rose, Clive Barker, and the cast of Candyman insist they were of the more complicated racial implications of their Cabrini Green-centered plotline, I’m suspicious of the thornier subtexts inherent in scenes like a parade of African-Americans assembling, To Kill a Mockingbird-like, at the grave of a white woman. Does she really deserve that much credit for transforming their considerable historical baggage into an avenging spirit for scorned bourgeoisie? Candyman is dated, is what I’m saying, and more than a little dubious from an ethical standpoint. But the fear of the things we half-expect to see on a bathroom mirror in the middle of the night is pretty convincingly replicated, expounded upon, and twisted deeper into our psyches – this is, after all, the director of Paperhouse – and for every way in which Candyman does not transcend Hollywood’s worst realization of a “social conscience,” it also offers up one or two authentic scares. Good but not great, in other words; a mouthful of bees might be fun, but they’re not – and shouldn’t have to be - very profound.
Did anyone else know that Virginia Madsen was a David Lynch discovery? Makes me want to re-watch Dune.
directed by Bernard Rose
rating: 2 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from Netflix
I’d love to see some statistics to back up director Bernard Rose’s claim that black audiences loved finally having a horror franchise of their own. However aware Rose, Clive Barker, and the cast of Candyman insist they were of the more complicated racial implications of their Cabrini Green-centered plotline, I’m suspicious of the thornier subtexts inherent in scenes like a parade of African-Americans assembling, To Kill a Mockingbird-like, at the grave of a white woman. Does she really deserve that much credit for transforming their considerable historical baggage into an avenging spirit for scorned bourgeoisie? Candyman is dated, is what I’m saying, and more than a little dubious from an ethical standpoint. But the fear of the things we half-expect to see on a bathroom mirror in the middle of the night is pretty convincingly replicated, expounded upon, and twisted deeper into our psyches – this is, after all, the director of Paperhouse – and for every way in which Candyman does not transcend Hollywood’s worst realization of a “social conscience,” it also offers up one or two authentic scares. Good but not great, in other words; a mouthful of bees might be fun, but they’re not – and shouldn’t have to be - very profound.
Did anyone else know that Virginia Madsen was a David Lynch discovery? Makes me want to re-watch Dune.
posted by NPK at 4:11 PM
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