Candyman (2021)

Nia DaCosta’s anticipated sequel to the 90s horror film is a refreshing new chapter to the Candyman story. The film takes place about thirty years after the original, in the same Chicago neighborhood, but it’s now gentrified. Anthony (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) is a young artist, looking for inspiration when he hears the story of Candyman. He dives deeper, trying to understand more about the local legend and meets William Burke (Colman Domingo) who tells him more. Inspired, Anthony incorporates the idea of Candyman, including how to summon him, into his artwork titled “Say My Name.” At the gallery opening, his work and talent is initially shrugged off by the local critic and outright blasted by the gallery owner. But when a mysterious murder happens in the gallery and the butchered bodies are found directly infront of Anthony’s work, Anthony’s reputation and the Candyman legend starts to spead like a virus. 

One of my favorite aspects of this film is the use of mirrors. In the original, mirrors are simply a portal, a means to summon Candyman. That’s true here in this sequel, but mirrors are also where we can visibly see Candyman. Without them the disturbing images of throats being ripped out by his hook just happen by an invisible force, which is also visually cool and frightening. You begin to seek out the mirrors in the film, looking for a glimpse of Candyman lurking, and sometimes you’ll find him! There’s also a great scene with Anthony looking at himself in a mirror where we really understand what is happening with that infected bee sting. 

What DaCosta’s Candyman does best is give the Candyman story back to the black community. It felt riduclous to me that the original focused on a white woman when Candyman was born out of slavery and generations of racial injustice. Even the characters comment on the story of Helen, saying no one cared until a white woman got involved. But here, Domingo’s character passes along the story to Anthony, who’s destined to be part of it more than he knows, and the film actually acknowledges the racist history of Candyman and the impoverished neighborhoods he comes from. Here, Candyman finally feels like a horror movie born out of the black experience, complete with generational “swarms” of police or white mobs to murder each suspected Candyman. The artwork’s title Say My Name comes full circle by the end of the film, not just to summon Candyman, but to never silence the countless victims of white mobs and police violence.

As a horror movie, DaCosta’s Candyman is an enjoyable, suspenseful, bloody ride bringing Candyman higher into the horror pantheon. Tony Todd does a wonderful job reprising the title role nearly 30 years later. The scares and gore were enough to make me jump and look away at times in the theater. And I will be making my husband sit down and watch this with me, so I can see his reaction. I think he’ll especially enjoy the scenes in the girls’ bathroom and in the elevator.

“They will say I shed innocent blood. You are far from innocent but they will say you are. That’s all that matters.”

The Trial of the Chicago 7

Aaron Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7 is a compelling courtroom drama depicting the infamous trial of seven defendants charged with inciting a riot, conspiracy and other charges relating to their counter-culture movement and anti-Vietnam war protests. In 1968 a large protest took place in Chicago during the Democratic National Convention. It was led and attended by a variety of people, from young democrats to hippies. Permits for the protests were requested but not given. Undercover Chicago police gained the trust of a few of the protest leaders, in an attempt to infiltrate the protest. Eventually, violence broke out. 

In the film, the trial itself is infuriating, mostly due to the apathetic Judge Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella). At first it’s almost funny, the way Judge Hoffman feels he needs to explain to the jury that he and Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) are not related in the middle of the prosecution’s opening statements. But it becomes grating how over and over, the judge refuses to listen as multiple people try to explain that William Kunstler (Mark Rylance) is not Bobby Seale’s (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) lawyer. In fact, his lawyer is not present, making the very fact that he is on trial unconstitutional. Eventually, Seale is so furious over this fact that Judge Hoffman commands “Deal with him as he should be dealt with.” Seale is dragged out of the courtroom, beaten and brought back bound and gagged. It’s only after this dehumanizing moment that Seale’s case is dismissed. And when a star witness has proof claiming that it was the police who started the riot, Judge Hoffman decides that this bit of testimony is not something that the jury needs to hear. 

What makes this film work so well is the spot-on editing. The opening montage perfectly ties together the eight (Seale included here) defendants as they individually prepare to travel to Chicago, recent news stories and Chicago preparing for the Democratic convention. Some of the best moments in the film flashback to the riot, mixed with black and white “footage” cut in between present dialogue (often courtroom testimony explaining what happened) and Abbie’s infamous storytelling/stand up on college campuses. It’s a lot happening at once, but it’s edited so well it works and really helps the audience understand all sides of the situation. 

The Trial of the Chicago 7 is nominated for six Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Sacha Baron Cohen earned his very first acting nomination for his supporting role as Abbie Hoffman. The other nominations include best cinematography, original screenplay, film editing and original song, Hear My Voice. 

There’s an uncanny similarity to the events depicted in this film and recent events. The film’s writing was not molded to fit our turbulent times, but rather we are living in a new revolutionary era and perhaps that makes this film all the more compelling. Hoffman, Hayden and the rest protested against sending young men to be slaughtered in Vietnam. Today, we protest to not be slaughtered in our own neighborhoods, either by police or this week’s mass shooter. This film serves to pay tribute to the 7 who the government attempted to make an example of only for them to become heroes to a new generation and a reminder to not let our voices be silenced.  

“We carried certain ideas across state lines. Not machine guns or drugs or little girls. Ideas. When we crossed from New York to New Jersey to Pennsylvania to Ohio to Illinois, we had certain ideas. And for that, we were gassed, beaten, arrested, and put on trial.”