Editorials
[Second Chances] Twenty Years Later, is ‘Candyman 3: Day of the Dead’ as Bad as We Remember?
Welcome to Second Chances, a recurring feature which gives widely underloved and notoriously maligned genre works another opportunity to impress and redeem themselves with a reviewer who initially found them severely lacking. Maybe these follow-up looks will result in a kinder re-evaluation…or maybe not. Will dull misfires shine brighter after years of distance and nostalgia? Will initially infuriating films somehow reveal their hidden genius?
For this installment of Second Chances, your writer revisits the third and currently final installment of a franchise featuring an iconic supernatural slasher. This week, we’ll be looking at the widely despised third entry of an otherwise respectable franchise that’s been garnering some buzz recently due to its impending resurrection. This much derided sequel hardly merits subsequent viewings or further consideration…or does it?
First Impressions: Candyman. Candyman. Candyman. Candyman. Candyman.
Say the name that many times into a mirror, and your life is likely forfeit – almost surely to be taken by the vengeful hook-handed ghost whose nickname you’ve intoned just shy of a half dozen times. Only five times. That’s it.
It strikes this writer as a shame, then, that we didn’t have at least as many films featuring the character as the times that his name must be called. Though the franchise started strong with the 1992 Bernard Rose adaptation of Clive Barker’s short story “The Forbidden”, it continued on to less success with a 1995 follow-up directed by future Oscar-winner Bill Condon before coming to an untimely end only four years later with a second sequel that served as the final entry for the seven-year old series. And if you’re wondering just how bad a film must have been to have killed the possibility of further follow-ups with a newly-minted horror icon, then it’s unlikely that you’ve ever endured the cinematic train wreck that is Candyman: Day of the Dead.
Only three films. That’s it.
From your writer’s point of view, it’s entirely understandable how the Candyman franchise came to an end after this installment. After having my expectations heightened by both my affection for the series’ previous entries and a great cover article on the threequel that ran in Fangoria, the movie didn’t merely disappoint me, it earned my utter scorn. I hated this movie so much, I swore that I’d never revisit it. Not out of curiosity, not during any Candyman series revisit, not for anything.
Never. Never ever.
…ever.
Second Chance: So I rewatched the film this past week…
After nearly two decades of avoiding a movie I’ve long despised, I took it upon myself to give it another fair shake in the interest of seeing whether or not the years had been kind. I did so not only for the purposes of having a new entry for this Second Chances feature, but also because my interest in the character has recently been reignited by both the talk of the upcoming Jordan Peele/Nia DaCosta reboot and that snazzy new Scream Factory Collector’s Edition of the first film. After revisiting both original and its first sequel Farewell to the Flesh (which still holds up pretty damned well), I took a deep breath and dove into Day of the Dead.
It didn’t go well.
For those who might have somehow missed it over the years (or for those whose memories of it may have mercifully faded), a recap of the film’s plot: somehow set in the late 90s but also around thirty years after the events of the preceding 1995 entry Farewell to the Flesh, Day of the Dead concerns Caroline McKeever, the daughter of the previous film’s protagonist and unlucky descendant of Daniel Robitaille (the unjustly murdered 19th century artist who became the titular boogeyman), who finds herself haunted by the Candyman after hosting an art gallery exhibition which displayed the art he’d created when he was alive. …oh, and she says his damn name five times in a mirror on a dare. In short order, the Candyman appears and gets up to his usual shenanigans – popping up occasionally for some florid monologuing, hypnotizing a pretty blonde lady, and murdering her friends by hook and bee.
Unfortunately, this sequel differs from the previous entries in that, for all its bloodshed, it still cannot manage to wring even an ounce of tension from its proceedings. As helmed by Turi Meyer (who also directed the far superior if still fairly cheesy supernatural slasher Sleepstalker), Day tells its threadbare tale with the most obvious of jumpscares and cheap special effects, failing at generating the dread and terror the previous entries boasted. Candyman’s kills are quick and poorly staged, his hook is often unconvincing (looking like the fake stump it is), and an interminably long sequence involving a woman’s death by a horde of bees is downright embarrassing in its execution – looking as though clumps of fake bees were simply glued into place on the actress (which might be all well and good, if it weren’t for the fact that the camera lingers on the effect long past the point that its trickery becomes obvious).
The Candyman himself is presented just as ineffectively. Rather than keeping him removed from the proceedings early on (or, at least, keeping him to the shadows for the earlier scenes), Day exhibits him clumsily at every turn, parading him around as though he were any other simple slasher. With the exception of Tony Todd’s typically strong performance and a scant sequence or two, the enigmatic character is failed miserably by this film as a whole.
Worse still are the other performances. Following on the heels of previous leading ladies Virginia Madsen and the quite good Kelly Rowan, former Playmate and “Baywatch” star Donna D’Errico can’t help but disappoint here with the main role of Caroline. While her attempts are obviously earnest, the film’s need for serious dramatic chops (and convincing screaming) were too demanding for the relatively novice actress. The movie’s only interest in having her as its lead is obvious from the very first scene, when it parades the beautiful young woman around in panties and a skintight, midriff-baring shirt, taking more of an interest in her erect nipples than effectively setting up the opening sequence’s big scare. Aside from Todd and A Nightmare on Elm Street’s Nick Corri (who plays Caroline’s love interest/dude in distress), the rest of the cast gives performances which range from merely serviceable to downright lousy. But being fair, the script gives the thesps little to work with.
And about that script! Penned by Meyer and his writing partner Al Septien (both would go on to such television shows as “Smallville” and “Midnight, Texas”), the screenplay relocates the Candyman to LA, but otherwise just goes through the motions as established by the first two films. It’s a matter of hypnotize/murder/rinse/repeat, with little in the way of fresh material to justify this entry’s existence. It all acts as a simple clothesline on which to hang the expected kills, presented this time around without a fraction of the class that Rose and Condon brought to their own films. Gore and gratuitous nudity are the biggest concerns here, an approach which is an insult to the preceding movies and their makers. It’s reduces the once classy to the utterly tawdry, and nowhere in the film is this better exemplified than in the film’s score – in place of Phillip Glass’ haunting and iconic strains, we now have a bucket of typical 90s DTV noise, complete with droning, a cappella sighing, and lame stings to accompany all of the equally lame jumpscares.
Yet, for all my bashing, I’d be remiss not to note that the film isn’t entirely without its charms. The attempts at tackling racial issues much as its predecessors did is appreciated, as is the fact that the film is set during a holiday/celebration (again, as with the earlier films). The film bungled both, of course, but at least it made the attempt.
And, as mentioned earlier, Tony Todd is typically terrific, turning in another performance as his signature character that manages to elevate the lightweight material he was given. One is reminded of tales concerning Christopher Lee’s distaste with the later Dracula sequels that he participated in – the films may have been beneath him, but it didn’t stop him from giving it his all and preserving, at the very least, the dignity of the character he helped to make an icon. And while we’re talking Hammer here, I will say that the Candyman’s death in this film is quite marvelous, evoking the finales of those older, classic horror pictures with its grandiosity. The movie may be lousy, but it sends its villain out on a pretty impressive note.
And hey, at least that’s something.
Final Verdict: Failing to capture the atmosphere or class of the series’ preceding entries, Candyman: Day of the Dead cheapens a previously respectable franchise with its overriding concerns with cheap gore and T&A. This film was a disappointment the first time around nearly two decades ago, and it’s aged into an even more unwatchable mess in the years since its initial release. In spite of the interest beginning to build again for the character in anticipation of his resurrection, it’s this writer’s opinion that fans should give this entry a wide berth when electing to revisit the series.
Forget this entry. Never again utter its name (especially into a mirror). Slash it, shatter it, throw it on a pyre and let it burn.
After fifty years of continuous writing, Stephen King has become a genre unto himself.
The unrivaled Master of Horror made a splash in 1974 with his debut novel Carrie and has been terrifying readers ever since. Two years later, Brian De Palma brought this shocking story to the screen with an equally electrifying horror film that remains a genre classic and a prototypical example of “Good For Her” horror. This dual debut seemed to open the floodgates, unleashing endless waves of Stephen King films.
From the highs of Misery, Cujo, and The Shawshank Redemption to the schlocky fun of Cat’s Eye, Creepshow, and Children of the Corn, the last five decades have seen just about every notable horror creator take a stab at the author’s massive collection.
In recent years, this singular subgenre has begun to burst at the seams, expanding to include Stephen King-esque fare. In 2016, brothers Matt and Ross Duffer debuted Stranger Things, a sci-fi series heavily inspired by two of King’s most famous books. The Netflix series remixes Firestarter and It by following a little girl with psychic powers and an intrepid group of kids on bikes who must battle an otherworldly foe and a sinister government agency. With its clever blend of modern effects and comforting nostalgia, this gateway horror series paved the way for Andy Muschietti’s It adaptation which remains the highest grossing horror film of all time.
Four years later, Mike Flanagan would create Midnight Mass, a spiritual adaptation of King’s second novel Salem’s Lot. Published in 1975, the book sees a tiny New England town torn apart by a centuries-old vampire. Though Flanagan’s story is perhaps more tender, both iterations of the classic horror tale follow close-knit communities shaken to their core by the presence of an ancient evil.
In addition to these recent hits, 2025 was a banner year for the Master of Horror. Audiences delighted in six mainstream adaptations, including the massively popular It: Welcome to Derry which chronicles earlier cycles of the titular clown’s reign. With this boost to King’s cultural cache, it’s no surprise that we’ve begun to see more unofficial adaptations of the author’s work and horror creators who build their own unique castles in King’s creative sandbox.
So what defines a Stephen King-esque story?
For the past fifty years, the prolific author has dipped his toes in nearly every subgenre from supernatural stories and grisly gore to western fantasy and science fiction. Including his vast catalogue of short fiction, King has tackled ghosts, demons, werewolves, zombies, aliens, mutants, and self-driving cars, not to mention bizarre monsters of his own creation. But what truly unites this vast array of horror is King’s focus on relatable characters. In his 2000 memoir/instructional text On Writing, the prolific author describes the amusement he finds in writing disparate characters, placing them in horrific scenarios, then exploring the ways they try to survive.
An unofficial Stephen King adaptation may take place in the author’s native New England — bonus points if it’s set in Maine — and reference his well-known heroes and villains. But what makes the King connection unbreakable is a character-driven story about average people who band together in the face of abject terror.
Weapons Captures Small Town Stephen King
Following his 2022 shocker Barbarian, Zach Cregger returned with Weapons, a sprawling story that begins in a doomed elementary school. On an otherwise ordinary day, Justine (Julia Garner) arrives at her desk to find that all but one of her students have disappeared. As the mystery grows increasingly violent, Justine and Archer (Josh Brolin), the father of a missing boy, find their way to the home of Alex (Cary Christopher), the class’ only surviving student. In some ways reminiscent of Salem’s Lot, Weapons swings wildly through the unfortunate town, introducing us to its flawed inhabitants as we watch their lives fall apart.
Cregger’s setup nods to a pair of King short stories. Both “Suffer the Little Children” and “Here There Be Tygers” tackle monstrous presences in elementary schools, but as Weapons reaches its final act, Constant Readers may remember another Stephen King tale. Featured in his 1985 collection Skeleton Crew, “Gramma” introduces us to George, a little boy tormented by an aging witch. On an afternoon alone with his sickly grandmother, the frightened child gradually realizes that the imposing old woman has been waiting for an opportunity to cast a spell that will extend her own life by possessing his body.
Alex finds himself similarly tortured by his aunt Gladys (Amy Madigan), a garish witch who orchestrates a desperate plot to sustain her own strength. Transforming humans into mindless weapons, Gladys has taken over Alex’s family home and lured his classmates to the basement. Holding them in a comatose state, she syphons off their energy to extend her own supernatural life.
Vastly different in many ways, both “Gramma” and Weapons hinge on a sinister witch who uses horrific magical spells to sacrifice the bodies of her vulnerable prey.
Hokum Echoes The Shining and 1408
It’s nearly impossible to watch a film about a haunted hotel without thinking of King’s third novel, The Shining. This icy story follows Jack Torrance, an angry writer struggling with his sobriety and a shameful incident haunting his past. Accompanied by his wife and young son, Jack has taken a job as the winter caretaker for the Overlook, a haunted hotel situated high in the Rocky Mountains. Snowed in, Jack finds himself tormented by dangerous ghosts who amplify his greatest fears.
Damian McCarthy’s Hokum follows a similarly troubled figure. Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott) is a surly writer who travels to the Bilberry Woods Hotel in rural Ireland to spread his parents’ ashes. Haunted by his own tragic past, Ohm finds himself trapped in the honeymoon suite, a decaying room that’s been permanently closed to protect visitors from a dangerous witch trapped within its walls. Visual nods to King’s text abound with woodcut figurines and an animated clock, mirroring ominous descriptions found in King’s text.
Another terrifying sequence sees Ohm staring with horror at a closed door, the only thing separating him from the approaching witch. As the door knob slowly turns, Constant Readers remember Jack’s narrow escape from the ghostly woman in room 217. And Ohm’s popular Conquistador books directly reference King’s long-running fantasy series The Dark Tower which follows a gunslinger named Roland Deschain tasked with protecting the nexus of the universe.
In addition to these thematic comparisons, Hokum bears striking resemblance to King’s terrifying short story “1408.” Collected in 2002’s Everything’s Eventual, the terrifying story follows Mike Enslin, a dejected writer who’s risen to fame penning essays about his adventures in haunted locations. Mike arrives at the Hotel Dolphin and bullies his way into the titular room, despite the manager’s dire warnings. McCarthy nods to this story with an ominously misplaced hotel room door, reminiscent of King’s entry to 1408, an unsuspecting portal that appears to move each time Mike looks away.
However, McCarthy’s most direct reference lies in a minicorder Ohm uses to capture notes. Trapped inside the dreaded honeymoon suite, this device offers well-timed messages while sitting next to a decomposing corpse. Mike records his time in 1408 with his own trusty minicorder. Described for the reader, his tape has captured the man’s slow descent into madness as the room prepares to swallow him whole. With conclusions that differ wildly in tone, both Ohm and Mike find their lives irrevocably changed by encounters with the supernatural realm.
Widow’s Bay Builds Its Own Version of Castle Rock
Katie Dippold’s Widow’s Bay has taken the idea of an unofficial King adaptation and turned it into an art form. The Apple TV series sees the residents of the titular island plagued by a curse that dates back centuries. Not only does the picturesque hamlet not accommodate wifi connections, those born on the island face certain death should they ever try to leave. Desperate to modernize the tiny town, Mayor Tom Loftis (Matthew Rhys) draws in waves of tourists just as a new cycle of terror begins.
Blending horror with deft comedy, Dippold makes cheeky references to King’s body of work. Tom warns that, “there’s something in the fog,” reminding readers of King’s 1980 novella The Mist. And Loftis’ own stay in the town’s haunted hotel sees him tormented by the ghost of a murderous clown. We even spy a vintage King hardback peeking out of a local book trade box.
In many ways Widow’s Bay feels like a new iteration of the author’s Little Tall Island, a tiny village off the coast of Maine. In addition to the 1992 novel Dolores Claiborne and a handful of harrowing short stories, this quaint fishing village is also the setting for King’s 1999 teleplay Storm of the Century. Premiering on ABC primetime, this tragic tale follows a terrified group of islanders who batten down the hatches for a dangerous Nor’easter only to find a more sinister threat lurking within.
Constant Readers may also be reminded of Castle Rock, the author’s favorite fictional town.
First introduced in the 1981 novel Cujo, the charming village becomes the star of Needful Things, King’s satire about consumerism. After several Castle Rock stories, we’re reintroduced to its residents as they gossip about the arrival of Leland Gaunt and the grand opening of his curio shop. Anything their hearts desire can be found in his varied inventory, so long as they’re willing to pay the price. Pitting cantankerous neighbors against each other, Gaunt ignites a wave of grisly violence by exploiting long-held resentments and feuds.
The town’s only defense against this supernatural threat is beleaguered sheriff Alan Pangborn. Still grieving the deaths of his wife and younger son, Alan struggles to connect with his older child and pick up the pieces of his shattered life. Also a widower, Loftis struggles to raise his own restless son and explain the strange details of his wife’s tragic death. Attempting to unravel the island’s dark secrets, Tom is aided by quirky residents including a surly fisherman named Wyck (Stephen Root) and Patricia (Kate O’Flynn), an earnest Town Hall employee. King’s own novels feature many of these proactive alliances with disparate characters combining their strengths to overcome insurmountable odds.
With Widow’s Bay renewed for a second season and Mike Flanagan’s Carrie series on the horizon, the future seems bright for new King adaptations, both spiritual and directly pulled from his catalogue. The prolific author also shows no signs of slowing down with two publications nearing release. His upcoming novel, Other Worlds Than These, is the long-awaited third Talisman book which teases direct ties to his Dark Tower world. Holly Forever will be a new installment of his crime series, offering a different kind of genre fare.
This embarrassment of riches spawning multiple worlds seems ripe for spiritual adaptation and will likely inspire horror creators for decades to come.
Kate O’Flynn, Stephen Root and Matthew Rhys in “Widow’s Bay,” now streaming on Apple TV.
You must be logged in to post a comment.