Tag: Colman Domingo

Candyman

Post author By Mark
Post date September 20, 2021

It may take saying his name five times to summon Candyman, but it only took his film franchise two mediocre sequels to seemingly spell his doom. That is until now, with Nia DaCosta’s sequel reviving the franchise in spectacularly bloody fashion. Retaining the original film’s moody, sullen tone, DaCosta has crafted a sequel that is sufficiently spine-tingling and gory whilst packing in enough biting indictment of the struggles of the African-American experience to really make an impact on the horror genre, rather than the hollow cash-grab it could have been. Favouring that social commentary instead of an all-out orgy of violence for its finale may leave some viewers wanting, but a star-making performance from Yahya Abdul-Mateen II ensures that Candyman’s revival is as glorious as it should be.

Taking a page from 2018’s Halloween reboot, Candyman acts as a direct follow-up to the first film, forgoing the mediocre sequels in favour of a story set 30 years after Helen Lyle’s tumultuous investigation into the urban legend of Candyman in the Chicago housing projects of Cabrini-Green. Here local artist Anthony McCoy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) struggles to find inspiration for his next project, fixating on the local legend of Candyman and setting off on an investigation into his reign of terror that leads him to Burke (Colman Domingo), a local resident who considers himself an expert on the subject. As mysterious murders begin to mount around Anthony, he finds himself disconnecting from the world, experiencing strange visions of violence that drive a wedge between him and girlfriend Breanna (Teyonah Parris). As his obsession turns to fear, Anthony sets out on a desperate attempt to end the curse he feels he is under, but is it too late for his salvation?

Candyman has kills aplenty: throats slashed, innards spilled and limbs severed. The gore is sufficiently stomach churning for a modern horror film, but what sets it apart is the tone Nia DaCosta establishes – thanks in no small part to Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe’s chilling score – that ensures you are never truly comfortable as you watch. You might not be out of your mind terrified at all times but there is a constant dread lingering in the back of your mind that the Candyman may strike from anywhere. DaCosta wisely builds her big set-pieces around this, knowing when to hold back to build suspense and when to go balls-to-the-wall crazy.

In this same way she and co-writers Win Rosenfeld and Jordan Peele build the social commentary into the script: rarely loud and in your face, preferring that you make your own conclusions rather than holding your hand to find the social message at its centre. That message isn’t particularly subtle but it is powerful, the gentrification of the Chicago suburb of Cabrini-Green has always been at the heart of the Candyman story, and DaCosta presents a new perspective, questioning Anthony’s contribution to that very problem by purchasing a new apartment in the traditionally low-income suburb and his profiting off of the suffering of Candyman’s victims by way of his art. DaCosta digs a little deeper in her exploration of gentrification, with a discussion of art and the artist’s role in the social problem, but it is somewhat lost in the film’s larger commentary, with the powerful finale choosing to focus on the problem in a very literal way instead.

The star of the piece, however, is undoubtedly Yahya Abdul-Mateen II. He is simply impossible to turn away from, bringing a charisma and energy to Anthony that is fascinating to watch slowly chip away as Candyman’s influence spreads. Moments when he experiences these dream-like states of unawareness are incredibly unsettling to watch, as Abdul-Mateen II’s eyes slowly lose focus, with DaCosta often choosing to shoot him looking directly at camera, as if Candyman is lingering over your very shoulder. Whilst more time could have been spent developing the relationship between Anthony and Parris’ Breanna, particularly the complicated dynamic between partners and gallery owner/artist, this is a minor gripe and a testament to the strength of the performances that you want to spend more time with these characters. Parris’ character isn’t the focus for much of the film but still gets some standout moments, easily conveying the pure terror she experiences through widened eyes alone.

Nia DaCosta clearly has a lot of love for the 1992 original Candyman, linking Anthony’s story to Helen’s in genuinely surprising ways and maintaining a tone that feels consistent with that film but which still manages to be its own dread-filled beast, with social commentary that is smart and biting, but never enough to draw the attention away from Candyman himself, who is represented here in a truly spine chilling way. Yahya Abdul-Mateen II’s performance is a standout in a year full of horror standouts, a haunting examination of one man succumbing to obsession and the dark forces it brings with it. You might not be able to utter his name in front of the mirror more than once, but you’ll be dying to see Candyman again and again.

Candyman stars Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Teyonah Parris, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett & Colman Domingo – In cinemas now.

8/10

Tags Candyman, Colman Domingo, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, Nia DaCosta, Teyonah parris, Vanessa Williams, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II

Movie Reviews

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Post author By Mark
Post date January 6, 2021

One of the biggest tragedies of the terrible year that was 2020 was the loss of Chadwick Boseman. The young actor was on the cusp of superstardom with his brilliant turn as the king of Wakanda in Marvel’s Black Panther and diverse roles in 42 and Get on Up cementing him as a terrific talent to watch. His final role in George C. Wolfe’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is made even more bittersweet by the fact that it is best work, an award-worthy showcase of raw talent snatched away far too soon. Paired with the always stellar Viola Davis as legendary blues singer Ma Rainey, the duo clash as they both strive for their independence in different ways, resulting in some truly enrapturing monologues that capture all the intensity and desperation of the African-American push in the 1920s to gain respect and recognition in America.

Boseman plays Levee, a talented, upstart trumpeter in Ma Rainey’s back-up band who feels the time has come to start his own band and put himself on the map within the Jazz community. During rehearsals at a Chicago studio prior to a recording session, Levee begins to clash with the other members of Ma’s band, who become angered by his arrogance and lack of respect for Ma – a woman who has given him the chance of a lifetime and pushed the boundaries for African-American artists in an industry which had constantly rejected them. As Levee’s frustration with his status begins to grow, so too does Ma’s, as she defiantly battles with white studio executives to avoid having her artistic vision compromised to increase sales. As tensions rise all around, decisions are made that will fracture futures and make or break lifelong dreams.

Adapted from famous African-American playwright August Wilson’s arguably seminal play, Wolfe has his work cut out for him in transferring that single location setting to the screen and making it interesting. What could have been a technically boring film of speeches and conversations absolutely sings thanks to the smooth and fluent camerawork, which spins and careens around the room as the band-mates converse, highlighting each of them as they say their piece and immediately flicking around to capture the response. It makes what amounts to an hour and a half of talking riveting and captivating cinema that keeps you on the edge of your seat as the conversations become more personal and intimate and the hardships and trauma of these four men are laid bare. This energy is infused into the dialogue as well, which is never preachy but always hard-hitting and to the point. These men have all been through hell in their own ways, Levee maybe more than the rest, so slowly unravelling their stories through these conversations not only invests you in the characters but in the struggle of the African-American community for respect and recognition in America.

Then there are the performances, which put simply, are world class. Davis is almost unrecognisable as Ma Rainey, drenched in makeup and wearing an extravagant gold grill, she completely commits to the character, carrying herself with a mixture of well-earned arrogance, pride and fear that all that she has worked for will be ripped away if she does not stand up for herself. When Levee or the studio executives begin to overstep their boundaries, Ma does not hesitate to put them in their place – whether that be through her ferocious temper or diva-like behaviour that adds some levity to the otherwise heavy proceedings. Boseman is transformative as Levee who is initially wide-eyed and hopeful about his future, but as the discussion veers into his backstory and the plight of the African-American community you realise there is far more to this troubled young man than just his hopes for a Jazz-filled future. The mad glint in his eyes may seem like a reflection of the hunger and excitement for becoming his own man but under the surface is a darkness and fear bubbling away born from some truly horrifying, eye-opening trauma from Levee’s past. There are two monologues in particular where Boseman lays everything on the table, shattering nerves and breaking your heart as he breaks down and begins to crumble. These scenes alone should net Boseman a posthumous Oscar but he never lets that intensity and energy lapse, carrying it the entire film until the shocking finale.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is a showcase for two of the finest actors of this generation, one tragically taken far too soon. Boseman and Davis are electric and captivating on levels audiences didn’t think they could reach, easily some of the best performances of the year and worthy of the inevitable awards consideration. George C. Wolfe’s film isn’t content to rest on the laurels of these two superstars, however, crafting a beautifully shot and decorated film that benefits from its swift pace to carry you through captivating discussions of the African-American experience in a different time. The themes and trauma of the characters, however, are still as relevant today as ever, especially in the heated climate of 2020, making this one of the most important films of the year; as informative and eye-opening as it is enjoyable to watch.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom stars Viola Davis, Chadwick Boseman, Colman Domingo, Michael Potts, Taylour Paige, Dusan Brown & Glynn Turman – Streaming on Netflix now.

Tags Chadwick Boseman, Colman Domingo, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, Netflix, Viola Davis