Matthew Percefull
Folklore and urban legends have always contained an ounce of truth. They are digestible and often fantastical ways to understand what confuses us. Real evil isn’t as simple as a man with a hook hand who murders you upon completion of a ritual. Real evil appears benevolent and often lies within systems. These monsters that we tell campfire stories about represent these systems. 1992’s Candyman uses these ancient storytelling practices to make a cutting satire that feels even more prevalent in 2025 than when it was released in the 90s. It may seem on the surface that Candyman is just another slasher film. This is far from the truth. The titular Candyman isn’t the film’s main antagonist; gentrification is.
Based on a story by Clive Barker, Candyman centers around a series of mysterious and underreported murders plaguing the low-income community known as the Cabrini Green projects in the city of Chicago. Helen Lyle (future Oscar nominee Virginia Madsen) is a University of Illinois-Chicago graduate student with a special interest in urban legends. After becoming aware of the mystical Candyman’s involvement in these Cabrini-Green murders, she digs deeper. At first, Helen chalks these folk tales up to the community coping with racial inequality. After some harrowing experiences, she realizes there’s something sinister afoot. This investigation ensnares her in a disturbingly romantic relationship with the very legend she’s investigating.
Candyman is one of horror’s most memorable figures. There are several reasons why this character has resonated with so many horror fans. The most obvious among them is the timeless performance by Tony Todd. He infuses the role with intimidation while still opening himself up to sympathetic and erotic character moments. These intimate scenes (particularly when he and Helen share the screen) add an element of excitement to the scares. It’s a contrast of tones that works beautifully. Tony Todd isn’t playing your typical slasher. He’s not a silent hulking figure like Michael Myers, nor is he a quippy comedian like Freddy Krueger. Candyman is a very sensual character, so much so that many have called Candyman a romance. I see how one could come to this conclusion; it has a gothic romance influence. Romance is also an integral part of the character’s history. What fuels the story, though, is something deeper. What this film is is a tragedy.
Candyman’s lore is expertly thought out. It mixes fantasy and horror impressively. The lore maintains this fantastical nature while still allowing for it to be grounded by reality. We’ve all chanted Bloody Mary at the mirror and run away scared, or at least know someone who has. There’s probably still a small piece within you that believes such a figure could be summoned. Candyman summons a childlike fear; the purest type of fear. Not unlike Freddy Krueger, the titular Candyman met a brutal fate years ago and has haunted the earth ever since. Instead of just being another evil, murderous spirit, Candyman‘s origin is a clever spin on the familiar story. Candyman was never a monster, he was doomed to this life. He was horrendously lynched soon after becoming a free man. The spectre that is Candyman represents the monster that the racist culture that killed him wanted him to be. In the third act, when Helen is revealed to be the one holding the hook, that’s the moment that she as a white woman, is realizing her role in all of this. Despite a high kill count, the biggest victim here is the same entity that is piling bodies up.
Helen Lyle is oblivious of her privilege. She lives in an expensive apartment complex. A complex that used to be home to a housing project. Lyle thinks she can make a difference through academia. She confidently trots into a space that she’s had no experience with, not with any real attempt to understand, but all for personal gain. Her motive in researching these murders is to validate her research paper. Helen Lyle represents the type of performative ally that seems benevolent on the surface but in reality, is self-serving. It takes her being scared to get the police out to investigate a place where a string of murders has taken place. By the end, she has blood on her hands both literally and metaphorically. She unleashed a generational horror on a marginalized community because she was too smug to believe them. While Helen is far from a likable protagonist, she is still a sympathetic figure here as well. Both she and Candyman are victims of the white, patriarchal society that continuously engulfs society.
The visual language of Candyman emits a uniquely gothic atmosphere. Several images have seeped into the memory of horror fans. Helen emerges from the mouth of a giant Candyman mural. The bee motifs. The shock of a hook impaling someone’s chest. The previously mentioned lore thrives in this creative environment. The set design is terrific. This is helped by the fact that this was filmed near the real-life Cabrini-Green projects. The graffiti-filled walls and metal doors contrast with the sterile surroundings of the university that Helen attends. The two worlds clash so well that it benefits the narrative and the satirical point of the film.
Candyman is a heavy film in multiple ways. It tackles slavery, gentrification, classism, and the oppressive nature of academia. The wide range of social and ethical topics that Candyman attempts to address leaves some of them feeling half-baked. However, this has helped the reputation of the film. There’s so much to dig into here. While there is plenty good to be said about this innovative classic, there have been some valid criticisms thrown at it over the years. The fact that a non-American white man made a film with such a vocal stance on race relations is something that can’t be ignored. Some moments can cast Black characters in a stereotypical light. The film also paints poor income areas as some haunted crypt instead of communities full of hard-working people. The positioning of some of this is very awkward. It’s still a great film with a relevant message, it probably could’ve used a different messenger.
Candyman’s legacy continues to grow. It has spawned two (admittedly schlocky) sequels and a recent reimagining produced by Jordan Peele and directed by Nia DaCosta. Candyman, as a character, is cemented as one of the greatest slasher villains of all time. This early ’90s genre flick broke new ground in multiple ways. It birthed the first iconic black horror villain and also ushered in a sense of prestige that the horror genre was lacking at the time. The current wave of artsy, message-forward horror films owes a great deal to Candyman. Its success allowed for a generation of horror fans who now expected more than just cheap jump scares. Candyman was ahead of its time while also being a time capsule for 90s culture. It will continue to inspire much thought as time moves on.
