Melodrama: the Musical! Dear Evan Hansen, based on the Tony award winning musical by the same name, is a movie for people who have struggled with social anxiety or depression, like musicals in general, or were unpopular in high school. So, pretty everyone who was a member of the Drama Club. One of the most highly anticipated movies of 2021, this landmark Broadway musical loses much of its pizzaz once adapted for the screen. Every decade, there comes a time when Broadway musical adaptations are all the rage, but some stories simply work better on stage than screen. Not having seen the stage production, I cannot comment on elements that were lost, but it strikes me as a story that simply works better when performed live than captured on celluloid. Dear Evan Hansen is an emotionally manipulative derivative movie musical in the vein of 13 Reasons Why. But I have to say, even the dialogue in the aforementioned titular young adult TV series was more thoughtful. For all the film’s desperate desire to depict a socially-relevant, tough subject matter, it plays off as superficial virtue signaling whose veneer is merely two-dimensional.
Evan Hansen is an anxious, isolated high-school student who’s aching for understanding and belonging amid the chaos and cruelty of the social media age. He soon embarks on a journey of self-discovery when a letter he wrote for a writing exercise falls into the hands of a grieving couple whose son took his own life.
Much of the talent from the Broadway musical is carried over into the film. Most notably, actor Ben Platt, who plays the title character Evan Hansen. Let’s get the obvious out of the way. There’s been some skepticism and hate surrounding the movie ever since the trailer dropped, mainly because Ben Platt (27) is playing a high school student. Is it distracting? Very. But once you get past it, he does deliver a good performance. Obviously, he knows this character well, much better than the movie knows itself. Moreover, Julianne Moore and Amy Adams also deliver great performances as the mothers of Evan and Connor (the deceased boy), respectively. In addition to our lead and supporting actors, the film pulled from film industry talent as well in front of and behind the camera.
Also on board is Stephen Chbosky, director of acclaimed coming of age films The Perks of being a Wallflower and Wonder but he doesn’t bring that same level of thoughtfulness to this movie. Which was perhaps an insurmountable task not only because of the hype from the musical, but also because it’s such a heavy subject to touch upon. There are some interesting visual choices and innovative techniques like the way it portrays the internet but the emotions don’t always hit right. This film rides a fine line between drama and comedy and sometimes overshoots by having some scenes be too sappy and over dramatic and other scenes that make light of sensitive subjects like suicide, which might be off putting to some people.Perhaps he was strong-armed by the Broadway producers to execute scenes a particular way, but we can only speculate as to why he doesn’t seem to care as much about these characters as he did with his other young adult/coming of age films.
The well-known songs from the musical were certainly the highlight for audiences. Fortunately, the director chose to provide sufficient space between songs in order to allow for an emotional reset. Whereas the show-stopping numbers are usually performed with gusto, these songs were much more subtle. And like musical numbers should, each piece sufficiently moved the melodramatic plot forward. The amount of musical numbers isn’t a whole lot and none are these big showy sequences with choreography, but I like that. I’m not sure if the stage performance is like that, but the lowkey nature of those numbers fits well.
The film also threads a fine line between drama and comedy which makes it engaging but might also be off putting for some because it at times makes light of sensitive subjects like suicide. The characters are not completely surface level but seem to represent the high school stereotypes of the 2010s (and 2020s so far); basically what the typical jocks, nerds, etc. were to generations past. Furthermore, this movie tries to paint a picture of the 2010s high school landscape, similar to what films like Mean Girls did for generations past, but ultimately falls short. The characters are not entirely two dimensional and different from those familiar archetypes of previous decades and certainly more “diverse.” For example, the popular, successful girl is shown to have some depth and the protagonist nerdy not really-friend makes an off hand remark which tells us he is gay they still mostly come off as a new set of stereotypes to populate the Gen Z high school.
All in all this movie still tries to tell a somewhat original story with memorable songs and performances. And it delivers a positive message about connection, which is something that everybody, not just young people, needs. This is especially true in these times. So, if this films sounds like something you’d enjoy then go see it; if it doesn’t, then don’t.
This review was written by Leon Zitz, German contributor to the R.L. Terry ReelView.
The Eyes of Tammy Faye will penetrate to your soul. You may think you know Tammy Faye’s story, but go beyond the tabloids in Michael Showalter’s (The Big Sick) heartfelt, hilarious, honest film that paints a humanizing portrait of the ridiculed and often parodied Tammy Faye Bakker. You will undoubtedly be blown away by Jessica Chastain’s jaw-dropping performance as the “Queen of Eyelashes” in this powerful rise, fall, and redemption story. Tammy’s eyelashes may be fake, but there is nothing fake about this candid portrait of the late television icon. Playing the mastermind of the PTL Network scandal is Andrew Garfield in a showcase performance that will have you despising Jim, but praising the uncanny portrayal. The film highlights Tammy Faye’s genuine love for God and her love for people–everyone! Even in the 1980s, when the LGBT community had little to no voice, especially amongst fundamental evangelicals, she was a loving voice for them. While it would have been so easy for the film to have been devoid of genuine levity, audiences will find there are some hilarious scenes that work as fantastic humanizing elements, especially early on when Jim and Tammy Faye engage their lustful adolescent interests as hormonally charged young adults and newlyweds. Showalter, Chastain, and Garfield deliver a fresh perspective on Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker that depicts human beings, not one-dimensional caricatures of televangelism.
In the 1970s, Tammy Faye Bakker and her husband, Jim, rise from humble beginnings to create the world’s largest religious broadcasting network and theme park. Tammy Faye becomes legendary for her indelible eyelashes, her idiosyncratic singing, and her eagerness to embrace people from all walks of life. However, financial improprieties, scheming rivals and a scandal soon threaten to topple their carefully constructed empire.
I already want to see it again! And it’s definitely becoming an addition to my physical media collection. This narrative film is based on the award-winning documentary by the same name, directed by Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato, and I suggest watching it as a companion piece. In many respects, the storytelling structure of The Eyes of Tammy Faye parallels the approach Craig Gillespie took in I, Tonya. In addition to the awards-talk around the performances, I would look to see this film in other conversations such as makeup, screenplay, and perhaps directing and picture. Showalter’s film explores the world of Tammy Faye, as seen through her unmistakable eyes; furthermore, he treats the character (the person) of Tammy Faye with respect as a flawed but loving woman rather than the heavy-makeup-wearing satirical and parodied caricature that many remember from the tabloids. Perhaps the thousands of times she said “God loves you” may have came across as insincere; but the truth is, she wanted the world to know that God and Tammy both love them.
Showalter’s candid picture gives Tammy Faye and Jim the full treatment as he takes audiences on a journey through their story, including the scandal that rocked a nation, whilst treating them with dignity and respect as they are–as we all are–flawed humans. This biographic drama seeks to understand (mostly Tammy Faye, but a little of Jim too) the Bakkers, not mock them or their work. Tammy Faye is a breath of fresh air in an environment polluted by stale, lifeless, and downright rotten individuals. From the beginning of the film, you learn that her faith in God and love of Jesus was not going to be defined by her circumstances or what people thought of her. If you told her she couldn’t, she would prove to you that she could. That is a trait that she could continue through her entire life, even after her scandalous fall from grace. You also learn that while she lived an opulent lifestyle, she was never defined by her material possessions. Oh don’t get me wrong, she loved her signature clothing style and trademark makeup and hair, but those things did not define her or her faith. Well, except for her eyes. She said “if you remove my [fake] eyelashes, I wouldn’t be me.”
While her husband was pulling the strings, she was doing everything she could to reach people for Christ; however, it was also clear that she loved the performance, the camera, and the microphone. If she hadn’t gone into televangelism, she very well could have been a Broadway star with her larger than life showmanship and personality. We also learn that Tammy Faye was likely unaware of the dishonest and illegal dealings of her husband, even though she at times suspected he wasn’t being honest. Chalk it up to extreme naivety. Despite no reports of Jim being physically abusive to Tammy Faye or their two kids, he was shown to be psychologically and emotionally abusive to Tammy Faye. Even to the extent that he used Tammy’s minor indiscretion with a Nashville music producer against her, to humiliate her on international television in an effort to raise more money because of her testimony. Tammy’s flirtation with the an elicit affair goes to show that we are all flawed individuals that toy with or fall victim to the same temptations, in whatever form they take. But we understand how and why Tammy Faye was tempted to search for love elsewhere; she was not appreciated as a person by Jim, but only as a tool to get more money out of PTL’s “partners.” Even when the reality of Jim would peak through, she never let that detour her from spreading the love of God to everyone in her signature style.
While we ostensibly watch the events of the rise and fall of the Bakkers through Tammy Faye’s eyes, in a similar fashion we did in I, Tonya, we also get glimpses of the story through Jim’s perspective when it serves to advance the emotional journey of the characters, especially when it comes to his complicated relationship with the then and now unlikable Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell. For example, I did not know that it was Jim and Tammy Faye that started the 700 Club. But when the innovative Christian talk show became a popular program on the fledgling CBN Network, Pat Robertson placed them on a maternity/paternity sabbatical, but was actually steeling their show in a jealous power-grab. The Bakkers then started what would become the TBN Network, but were ran off from there too. Finally, they began the PTL Club (later massive, worldwide PTL Satellite Network), and the success of that venture would eventually spawn a 24-hour network, neighborhoods, and a theme park that would become the third most visited in the country after Disneyland and Disney World.
While PTL was growing by leaps and bounds, Robertson and Falwell were seething with jealously at the success of Jim and Tammy Faye, a motive that comes into play when they discover the payment of PTL funds for the hush-money regarding Jim’s affair. Little did Tammy Faye know that Jim surrounded himself with a conniving mafia-like group of “Christians” that sought to take down the power couple after they departed from the Robertson-Falwell fundamentalist agenda. This mafia-like mentality is most apparent when Tammy Faye televises the emotional interview with a gay AIDS patient, also a Christian pastor, on her show. She ends the interview with reminding the viewers that Christians are called to love as Jesus loved. It was shortly after that, that Robertson and Falwell actively looked for ways to dethrone the king and queen of televangelism. Of all the examples of Christians in the film, amongst the lead and supporting characters, Tammy Faye is the best example of how a Christian should love and act.
Chastain has instantly shot to the front of the Best Actress in a Leading Role category, and Garfield may find himself in the Best Actor conversations as well. Chastain disappears behind the trademark Tammy Faye makeup and delivers a larger than life performance! And since Tammy Faye, herself, was the definition of camp and larger than life, it’s an incredibly authentic, sincere performance. It’s easy to see how the LBGTQ community was drawn to the person of Tammy Faye then and now, because the LGBTQ community often greatly admires women who remain strong in the face of adversity. But Chastain’s performance of the person of Tammy Faye will undoubtedly inspire and win the admiration of all kinds of people from all walks of life. While Chastain is brilliantly portraying the character of Tammy Faye, we learn in the film (and in the documentary, the interviews, and PLT flips that many will undoubtedly pour through after leaving the film) that Tammy Faye wasn’t a character at all but one of the most genuine, sincere loving people that ever walked the planet. Chastain captures every nuance of Tammy Faye with uncanny precision.
Even the indelible Cherry Jones as Tammy Faye’s love-to-hate mother that was so often Tammy Faye’s harshest critic may be in the supporting actress conversations. She’s a scene steeler herself, much like Allison Janney was as LaVona Harding in I, Tonya. All the lead and supporting performances are perfectly executed, and the hair/makeup on everyone leaves an uncanny resemblance between the actors and the real-life people that are being portrayed. If Tammy Faye was still alive, I feel strongly that she would appreciate the film. Her son Jay appears to like the film from what I’ve read of his comments.
I’d be remiss not to mention, what is perhaps the most telling scene of who Tammy Faye was. Months or perhaps years after the collapse of the PTL Empire and all her fine things were sold (and house actually burned to the ground), and she’s driving a crappy Honda Accord and living in a rundown apartment, she pulls into her parking spot one day. And she gets out, she hears a few of the neighborhood punk teens making fun or her. She walks over to them, and graciously says, “if you’re going to talk about me, since I am your neighbor, you should at least shake my hand and meet me first; hi, I’m Tammy Faye” (or something to this effect).
What we have here is a brilliantly produced biographical drama that works as trifecta comprised of a cautionary tale, a redemption story, and film that provides social commentary on topics such as politics, religion, and patriotism as our country is becoming increasingly polarized on these subjects.
Ryan teaches American and World Cinema at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter or email him at RLTerry1@gmail.com! If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with or meet him in the theme parks!
An action-packed reimagination of the classic kung-fu movie that is equally enjoyable as a stand-alone movie or MCU world-building installment that is best experienced on the BIG SCREEN. It’s no secret that I can take or leave the MCU, same with the DCEU. I’ll be up front and say that I like a select few superhero movies (Batman Returns, 89,Wonder Woman, all the X-Men movies), Batman Returns being my favorite (and I still argue the best comic book movie ever); however, all that said, I thoroughly enjoyed Shang-Chi! From beginning to end, it’s filled with explosive action and properly seasoned with moments of hilarity. Whether you are watching it because you are a Pavlovian MCU fan boy or girl that simply salivates over anything Marvel (or Disney) or you are seeking to be entertained in a cinematic escape for a couple of hours, then this film fits the bill.
Even though there are some cliche extreme wide landscape shots at the beginning that are working hard to convince you that the best place for the movie is on the BIG SCREEN, that’s not why you want to experience it in that ideal environment. You want to experience it on the BIG SCREEN because of the big action moments, mind-blowing fight choreography, intimate character-development scenes, and laughter and cheers from the audience!
Shang-Chi: and the Legend of the Ten Rings boasts a great cast that includes a key supporting role played by the indelible Michelle Yeoh. Our lead Shaun/Shang-Chi is played by the handsome Simu-Liu and his best friend played by the popular Awkwafina. These actors are supported by a well-written screenplay that not only delivers plenty of adrenaline-pumping sequences, one-liners and zingers (mainly from Awkwafina), but never loses focus on the external goal and internal needs. Simple plots with complex characters make some of the best movies!
While there are times that the mystical elements of the movie do seem a bit over-the-top, even for a superhero movie, the superpowers (be they derived from nature or from a weapon), don’t cross the threshold between suspension of disbelief and utter ridiculousness. The movie lays out the rules of its worlds in the first act, so you are willing to accept whatever is thrown at you. Writing tip: you can get away with nearly anything if you properly set it up. We learn everything we need to follow the story at the beginning of the movie.
If you’re seeking to be entertained by a solid high-concept movie, then you don’t want to miss seeing Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings on the BIG SCREEN. Seriously, you can go into it the movie, not being that familiar with the preceding MCU movies, and still be able to thoroughly enjoy your time. If you are an MCU geek and love all the nods, Easter eggs, and world-building details, then you will also be happily satisfied. I hope this movie is an indication of the types of movies we are to witness in the next stage(s) of the MCU.
Ryan teaches American and World Cinema at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter or email him at RLTerry1@gmail.com! If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with or meet him in the theme parks!
Plot and story take a backseat to the technical and performative elements of the mise-en-scene. The Night House represents a trend in horror that began as an emerging art house cinematic form championed by studios like A24 in the mid 2010s, continuing today. Many of the films that fall into this category are highly stylized through overtly artistic approach (artistic in that the hand of the auteur is clearly visible) or a minimalist approaches. While many of these films DO have a strong story told though established narrative conventions, some of them (and an increasing number) place so much emphasis on the look and feel of the film, that the filmmakers forget that they also need to tell a good story with a beginning, middle, and end that makes sense within the world that has been established on screen.
This house looks gorgeous, but the bones are weak. The Night House certainly delivers a haunting and unnerving atmosphere, excellent production design, fantastic editing, and a tour de force performance by Rebecca Hall, but its labyrinth-like plot and meandering story ultimately lead to “nothing.” If nothing else, this film works as a showcase for Hall in her one-woman show! And no mistaking it, her performance is outstanding–nearly Toni Collette Hereditary levels. Further notable elements in the film are the exquisite editing and cinematography that help to generate the ominous feeling of dread that you will feel the entire time. All of the aforementioned sounds like an incredibly effective mise-en-scene, doesn’t it? The problem with The Night House isn’t in the mise-en-scene as much as it is in the bones of the house itself, or the screenwriting.
My problem with films like The Night House, The Lighthouse, (am I sensing a trend here?) and others is the trend to ostensibly convince audiences, through the thoughtful craftsmanship of the mise-en-scene, that the film is more important than it is, that it has something substantive to deliver, or that the filmmaker is elevating horror (a term I despise because horror has always been the most truthful and progressive of all the genres). When this happens, the plotting suffers greatly. Why? Because the filmmaker considers themselves an artist that is above established conventions because there is a clear attempt to be unconventional, to be be a nonconformist, to rage against the system, if you will. So because they do not feel that they should abide by the guidelines or conventions of screenwriting or image montage (montage is French for assembly), they expect audiences to be so impressed by the gorgeous imagery on screen that the story or plot is of little consequence. Or there is the idea that these films aren’t for everyone or they are used as fuel for the pretentious you just don’t get it conversations on #FilmTwitter. Oh, many cinephiles just love that one, because they can elevate themselves.
Now, you are probably wondering if I think all films need to follow conventional filmmaking approaches. And the answer is NO. What?!? Did I just contradict everything I just wrote? Again, no. It’s when the filmmaker crafts a motion picture that they’ve clearly positioned to give the pretense that it’s more important than it actually is and fail to deliver the story that is so clearly attempting to be told. That is where I find fault with the filmmaker or screenwriter. Does that mean narrative/fictional films can’t be poetic in their form? Certainly not. One of my favorite horror films is Dario Argento’s Suspiria. And, even though I include this masterful work of cinema in my World Cinema class, I will also be the first to tell you that the plot is not very good. But, the beauty of Suspiria isn’t in the story, but in the euphoric experience of watching Argento create cinematic art with this violent, technicolor world accompanied by the mesmerizing score. The difference between Suspiria and The Night House is the simple fact that Argento did not create Suspiria to tell an important story. It’s a film that has grown in importance through the decades because we can find meaningful expression in the mise-en-scene. But that film didn’t hit cinemas to tell an important or thoughtful story. It hit cinemas to provide an experience!
What we have here is spectacle vs narrative. A subject I covered in my academic book On the Convergence of Cinema and Theme Parks. In the book, I look at the storytelling approached in themed entertainment when it intersects cinema. Without going too deep into that subject, I explore the idea of cinema of attractions. And films that do not tell a plot-driven story, are more about the attraction or experiential factors, not unlike a theme park attractions. With the increase in IP (intellectual property) based attractions (think: attractions based on movies), attractions have integrated story elements that aim to take the physiological experience and add the dynamic of story to it. A good example of this is found in Universal Orlando’s Hagrid’s Magical Creature Motorbike Adventure in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter: Hogsmeade at Islands of Adventure. Universal coined the term story-coaster. But I digress. When I evaluate a film, I often look at the implied attempt by the director (and marketing agency or distribution company), and I ask myself questions like: does the film give the impression that it is more important than it actually is? Is there an attempt to have a thoughtful message or some social commentary on dominant or emerging ideologies, and the film form takes precedence over the actual story? Are the films technical elements and acting so impressive that it hopes you don’t notice that the plot or story are weak?
While I have established that there is rightly a place amongst the greats for films that are visually stunning that don’t necessarily follow a traditional story structure (ie. Suspiria), the best films are often those that have a simple plot and complex characters. A simple plot forms the solid foundation and structure of the house (the bones, if you will), while the film form is everything that you see with the naked eye. It starts with the firm foundation and strong structural elements. Everything else is window dressing–important–but ultimately meaningless if the narrative is’t sound. What good is the building material of the walls, the paint, the type of windows, or kitchen cabinetry if the foundation or structure are weak??? I appreciate the intimate feel of the trend to release films that look artful so we can witness the cinema stylo of the auteur, but the filmmakers also need to remember the importance of plotting, pacing, and structure.
Ryan teaches American and World Cinema at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter or email him at RLTerry1@gmail.com! If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with or meet him in the theme parks!
Sweet on the outside, sour on the inside. Avisually impressive attempt to provide a thoughtful exploration on duality and identity, is overshadowed by heavy-handed ideology. Nia DaCosta delivers audiences a spiritual sequel to the cult horror film Candyman (1992) that is grounded in much of the lore of the original, yet forges a new frontier that simultaneously serves as a vehicle for horror legend Tony Todd to pass the hook onto Yahya Abdul-Mateen II. DaCosta is joined by writer-producer Jordan Peele and screenwriter Win Rosenfeld to “tell everyone” who dares to look in a mirror and call out his name five times. Admit it, even in our most rational state, we are still a little apprehensive to stare at our reflection and call out Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candym–. That’s the power of horror films! These fictional stories on screen have their mystical ways of affecting the collective conscious in such a manner that we change or question our behavior. Another great example of this effect is the iconic highway scene in Final Destination 2. And challenging audiences was certainly what the three screenwriters had in mind when writing the story for Candyman (2021). Unfortunately, the agenda-driven message steels the focus away from the stunning visuals, and ultimately fails to effectively paint a portrait of reality that invites all to engage in the important conversations the film is trying to have, instead, alienating audience members that don’t share the filmmakers’ opinions. Suffice it to say, this film is Peele for the course.
In present day, a decade after the last of the Cabrini towers were torn down, rising star artist Anthony (Abdul-Mateen II) and his partner move into a loft in the now gentrified Cabrini. A chance encounter with an old-timer exposes Anthony to the true story behind Candyman (Todd). Anxious to use these macabre details in his studio as fresh grist for paintings, he unknowingly opens a door to a complex past that unravels his own sanity and unleashes a terrifying wave of violence. (IMDb)
If you’ve never seen the original Candyman, don’t worry. While having seen the original will certainly help audiences to appreciate world-building and backstory elements, there is enough context given to help those that may be unfamiliar. Following the screening I attended, I heard individuals negatively critique the retconning of plot elements in the original; truth is, the parts of the original that were reimagined to fit the backstory of 2021’s Candyman were thoughtfully adapted.
While I have my reservations with the film, I would be remiss to not highlight the excellent direction, cinematography, editing, costuming, production design, and even the performances! Visually, the movie is stunning! All the mise-en-scene elements work together to create a BIG SCREEN experience. And talk about outstanding performances. Back in the heyday of the slashers (late 70s through the 90s), we did not expect to be impressed by the performances of the cast. And while there are notable exceptions of horror films WITH brilliant performances, usually it’s not expected. Over the last 7–10 years, horror films have been stepping up their performance game. The lead and most of the supporting cast will all captivate you. Unfortunately, there are useless characters like Brianna’s (Anthony’s girlfriend’s) brother and his boyfriend. Having no real affect on the plot, this interracial gay couple was little more than a token that could be removed from the movie, and the movie still play out the same way. However, if it weren’t for these two characters, the movie would be lacking ANY humor. So I suppose that was their purpose, to add humor.
There are so many beautifully crafted shots and shot sequences in this film. From juxtapositions of the old meeting with the new to geometric shapes and lines, there are many excellent compositions. The production and set design and lighting, of this film, are used in similar ways that the designs in expressionism are used. Expressionism uses the design of buildings, costumes, lighting, and camera angles to externalize emotions, psycho-social states of being, and ideas. And with expressionism being part of the formula of horror (expressionism+surrealism+Poe+Freud), it makes sense how and why there would be this care shown in the mise-en-scene.
All the backstory elements are communicated through the brilliant use of shadow puppets. The shadow puppet sequences are perhaps my favorite recurring diegetic device used in the film. Not only do these shadow puppets provide exposition, they also move the plot forward in action and subtext.
The idea of shadow puppets as a storytelling device is best explored in Plato’s Cave. French film theorist Jean-Louis Baudry likened the movie theatre to Plato’s famous allegory Plato’s Cave found in Plato’s Republic. But since we’re not all film or philosophy theorists, here is a quick explanation of Plato’s Cave:
The allegory states that there exists prisoners chained together in a cave. Behind the prisoners is a fire, and between the fire and the prisoners are people carrying puppets or other objects. This casts a shadow on the other side of the wall. The prisoners watch these shadows, believing them to be real. Essentially, what Plato is exploring is the concept of “belief vs knowledge.” The prisoners (or audience) in this analogy believe the images on the wall as reality; when in actuality, it is only the puppeteers version of reality. The analogy goes on further to describe a prisoner breaking free and venturing from the cave out into the real world. Two things happen (1) the newly freed prisoner completely rejects the imagery in the cave and returns to warn the prisoners of their one-dimensional view of reality, and risk being killed for a radical view, or (2) the freed prisoner fears or cannot reconcile actual reality and retreats back into the cave, where there is comfort in the surroundings, to warn the prisoners not to leave. Therefore, this highlights how a lack of knowledge leads to blind belief.
Despite being centuries old, the allegory is appropriate for filmmaking. After all, the audience watches images on a screen. We’re meant to believe it to be real, but we know it’s false. Only when we step out of the theater back into reality can we take what we’ve learned in the cinema and apply it to our lives. In a literal sense, a movie is just a series of images. But digging deeper, they present unique ideas and themes that we can take with us into the real world. Numerous movies utilize this concept in their plots and themes. You have probably seen films where a character believes one reality and then becomes exposed to another, greater reality and is never the same. In the case of 2021’s Candyman, DaCosta, Peele, and Rosenfeld have metaphorically trapped the audience in an ideological cave to present their versions of our reality that exists outside the cinema’s doors.
The movie has some great kills! But it highlights a moral problem plaguing this movie. From the art gallery to the critic to the girls at the prep school, the only victims, to meet their gruesome demise ON screen, are white characters. While there are a couple of off-screen deaths of black characters, the only ones in the visible mise-en-scene to meet with Candyman’s iconic hook are white. Had this movie been directed and/or written by a white writer-director and only killed and disparaged black characters, there would already be a #cancel campaign on Twitter. In my five years as a film professor and seven years as an active critic, I cannot ever recall a horror movie (in particular, a slasher movie) that ONLY killed black characters and disparaged the black community in virtually every scene from the opening to the closing. So if that would not be tolerated by the public–and for good reason, a movie released like that in 2021 (or ever) would be in incredibly poor, despicable, disrespectful taste–then the inverse should not be acceptable here.
I get what DaCosta, Peele, and Rosenfeld are trying to do with this horror movie. From the time of Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Nosferatu, horror has been used to comment on societal observations to either warn of an impending dangerous ideology, to provide allegorical material that can be used as a framework to better understand marginalized groups, or even to challenge systems or institutions. Which is why horror is often far more truthful than a straight drama. Of course, one can make the argument that this is a fictional film in a fictional Chicago, which is not untrue; however, the problem therein is that little (if anything) in this fictional Chicago sets it apart from the real world, except for the supernatural character of Candyman, because these filmmakers have a point to make. But the problem here is that the very people that these writers want to challenge are the very people that are being unfairly represented in the movie. How is any of that constructive to the conversations of race relations and policing??? Short answer: it’s not.
The symbolism I did appreciate in the film are the moments that we explore the duality in ourselves and our environments. This is represented through literal and metaphoric reflection. Mirrors (or reflections) are regularly used to communicate duality. One of the best examples in recent years, in how mirrors are an effective cinematic device, is the mirror scene in I, Tonya. Just before her final competition in the film, as Tonya is applying her high contrast makeup, we witness in the mirror the internal struggle. On the outside, she is this accomplished figure skater (probably the best athlete the sport has ever seen) but on the inside she is tormented by her mother, her abusive marriage, and what she did or didn’t know about the incident. Likewise, in Candyman we explore the history and identity of Anthony and his neighborhood. Anthony has a secret in his past that has been painted over, that is trying to resurface, and his neighborhood of Cabrini Green has a sordid history that it has tried to cover and hide behind a fresh coat of paint. History is always there. It cannot be erased. And if it’s not dealt with, it can become a specter and haunt you and your environment. The mirrors and other reflective surfaces of Candyman are brilliantly used to communicate this idea of duality.
It is clear that DaCosta is a gifted director, but I hope that she works with different writers in the future that can find that balance of commenting on or raising awareness of something important, but also finding the ways to bring everyone to the table for a thoughtful discussion. The power of cinema, and in particular horror films, is that it can bring diverse groups of people together from all walks of life to both be entertained and challenged through screams, jumps, and laughter.
Ryan teaches American and World Cinema at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter or email him at RLTerry1@gmail.com! If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with or meet him in the theme parks!
