The Candyman can.

It’s hard to put into words just how much of a mark 1992’s Candyman left on a generation. While overshadowed by the Freddies and the Jasons of this world, Candyman nonetheless crept up on us with a clever hook, a horrifying setup, and a devastating execution that would crawl under audience’s skin and stay there for years to come.

Quite fitting considering its themes of generational trauma and the devastating power of myth, Candyman’s legacy runs deep, and while the film is rarely talked about in the same breath as its high-profile horror contemporaries, Candyman’s story and the hold it has on audiences has endured longer than most – something this new iteration is undoubtedly banking on.

For years, the housing projects of Chicago’s Cabrini-Green neighbourhood were terrorised by a word-of-mouth supernatural killer, summoned simply by repeating his name into a mirror five times. Now, a decade after the last of the Cabrini towers were torn down, artist Anthony (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) and partner Brianna (Teyonah Paris) move into a luxury apartment in the area now gentrified beyond all recognition. With his career on the brink of stalling, a chance encounter with a Cabrini-Green veteran (Colman Domingo) exposes Anthony to the true horror story behind the Candyman, setting him on a collision course with destiny that will unleash a terrifying wave of violence upon those around him.

While it’s not exactly a new concept, the sharp rise in the legacyquel (a film or show in which aging stars reprise classic roles and pass the torch on to younger successors) over the past few years is hard to ignore. With everything from Cobra Kai to Halloween to Creed doing its best to indulge our nostalgia while giving CPR to a long-dormant franchise, these reboot/sequels have grown to become huge money-spinners.

Hell, as we speak, there’s Ghostbusters: Afterlife and Top Gun: Maverick waiting for us just around the corner. Yet, nestled neatly in the middle of this nostalgia huddle is one of the most intriguing – and potentially volatile – legacyquels of them all.

On the surface at least, Candyman feels like another cynical attempt to milk a popular horror franchise for all it’s got, however, look a little deeper into the mirror and you’ll see a story of myth, legacy, trauma, and societal injustice that feels as relevant now as it did 24 years ago. This is a tale with pertinence, weight, and real-world horror that, like its titular bogeyman, seems to grow in strength and power the more it’s told.

Like the best examples of this legacyquel trend, Candyman understands its predecessor’s story and resonance implicitly, paying tribute to what came before while boldly doing its own thing entirely. This balance is by no means an easy one to strike, yet Candyman gets it just about stop on.

Key to this success is director Nia DaCosta, who balances a deep-seated understanding of the source material with a striking level of filmmaking nous to produce something pretty special. By taking the themes, locations, characters, and indelible energy of the original Candyman and plugging them directly into the here and now, DaCosta crafts an innovative and terrifyingly relevant horror story that does its predecessor justice while wholly unafraid to tell its own tale entirely.

While certainly heavy-handed and on-the-nose at times, Candyman’s message is nonetheless an effective one, touching on issues that continue to permeate society. Tapping directly into themes of gentrification, injustice, and social imbalance, the film picks up where the original left off and runs with it, as DaCosta pulls no punches with her messaging.

Naturally, it’s hard to ignore Jordan Peele’s involvement in the movie as a co-screenwriter and producer, and there are certainly big chunks of Candyman that feel very much a part of the filmmaker’s oeuvre, yet this should take nothing away from Nia DaCosta, who shows just how much of a talent she is behind the camera. Showcasing a level of visual flair and technical prowess well beyond her years, DaCosta puts her all into the film, turning a potentially run-of-the-mill horror sequel into something so much more.

Epitomised by the recurring use of shadow puppetry as a haunting conduit for exposition, DaCosta’s creative choices really do make the film pop, as innovative storytelling techniques and eye-catching visuals combine to immerse and disorientate in equal measure. With a playful use of reflection and suggestion throughout, DaCosta is well versed in the iconography of Candyman and knows full well the traumatic baggage her audience will bring to the film, gleefully toying with our deepest fears and preconceptions at every turn.

Combined with Robert A. A. Lowe’s intense and ominously stirring score, Da Costa’s unnerving visual approach frequently overwhelms as it digs its hooks in and refuses to let go. While it doesn’t pack the horrific gut punch of the original, the film nevertheless knows how to get the job done, as DaCosta peppers the film with potent moments of gruesomeness and body horror that will leave their mark.

Around all this carnage, however, is a plot that fails to take us anywhere particularly new, and while there are a few twists and turns along the way, it’s hard not to shake the fact that, underneath the blood, guts, and timely messages is a fairly ordinary narrative. Saggy and patchy at times, the plot is often bogged down in its own mythology as it tries a little too hard to connect itself to the original story, struggling to come up with anything particularly unique along the way.

Yet, despite all this, Candyman’s impact cannot be denied. Without a doubt, there’s an irrefutable power to what the film is saying and an unflinching conviction to the way it says it that hits on a level few horrors can match. Much of this impact lies at the feet of DaCosta’s inimitable direction, however, it’s in the performances from her stars that things really hit home.

Chief among these is Yahya Abdul-Mateen II who puts in a shift and a half as our haunted protagonist. It’s a role that requires presence, menace, and dexterity, and one upon which the fate of the entire film rests, yet Yahya is very much up to the challenge as he throws himself into the action with blood-soaked gusto.

Balancing his inherent likability with a chilling calmness set to explode at any moment, Yahya sells his character’s gradual mental, physical, and emotional deterioration exceptionally well. It’s a performance that could’ve easy descended into hamminess, however Yahya pitches it just right, with a wonderfully weighted turn that allows itself to be possessed by the Candyman spirit without ever pushing things too far.

Alongside him, Teyonah Parris does exceptionally well with a role that cleverly sidesteps the helpless girlfriend cliché to become just as vital to the story and its impact than her co-star. Her character certainly could’ve done with more space to breathe but, nonetheless, Parris puts in a performance of remarkable range that complements Yahya brilliantly and ably supported by the bristling menace and rasping tones of Coleman Domingo, manages to take Candyman to places the original just couldn’t go.

In lesser hands, there’s every chance Candyman could’ve ended up in the horror reboot bonfire like so many before it, however, under the deft filmmaking guidance of Nia DaCosta and the astute tutelage of Jordan Peele, the film is an incisive and terrifyingly timely dissection of the legend. While the patchy, often predictable, narrative sometimes undermines Candyman’s horror and leaves it unable to pack the punch of its predecessor, the film does a fantastic job at honouring the legacy and trauma of Bernard Rose’s original while gleefully ripping open the story for a whole new generation of unwitting victims.