The anthology film faces the challenge of balancing different stories and sometimes maintaining an overarching narrative. Some famous examples manage this such as Pulp Fiction and Sin City, and within the horror genre we find Twilight Zone: The Movie, Ghost Stories and Trick ’r Treat. Horror is ostensibly well suited to anthology because it draws on the tradition of telling ghost stories around the fire, whether that be in a living room at Christmas or a campsite in summer. Therefore, a collection of scary tales at Halloween is a natural fit for the horror genre.
Bad Candy follows in the tradition of Trick ’r Treat with various spooky stories taking place in New Salem on Halloween night. Radio DJs Chilly Billy (Corey Taylor) and Paul (Zach Galligan) relay these stories over the airways, from the girl who uses her drawings to strike back at her abusive stepfather to the veteran vigilantes who enact their own kind of rough justice. Some of these stories are weird, some are bonkers and most are thoroughly gruesome, directors Scott B. Hansen and Desiree Connell skimping on no amount of blood and viscera. Souls are sucked out, heads stabbed through doors (hello, Scream 2), various body parts go flying and, in perhaps the goriest moment, a body is quite literally ripped apart. But there’s more than gore, as genuine suspense is also crafted especially in one sequence involving a home invasion, reminding us that however creepy a demon or ghost may be, humans are the most terrifying monsters of all.
Where the film fumbles is in its overall structure. It is actually at some points unclear whether the DJs are telling the story or if we have simply cut away to another part of the town. Furthermore, early scenes had this reviewer wondering if this was a sequel to an earlier film. Recurring elements such as the eponymous demonic clown suggest a link between the stories, but these are only suggested, with the final tale of past sins coming back to haunt the sinner being too rushed to deliver much bite (or burn). The ramshackle nature of the plotting is also reflected in the film’s editing, which is often discontinuous and assaults the viewer with a barrage of images. This style is unsettling and reaches its strongest point during a scene that starts with an isolated woman (standard horror trope), moves into necrophilia territory (somewhat more surprising) and culminates with a seriously bad trip (or is it something more supernatural?). At other times, Hansen and Connell, who also edited and managed the production, seem to be drawing too much attention to their work which, while impressive, might have been more effective if integrated into a more cohesive whole.
Despite this lack of cohesion, Bad Candy is a hard film to dislike because of the sheer exuberance apparent in the filmmaking. From the committed characters to the copious gore and the energy that runs through the film, Hansen and Connell ensure that we are taken for a joyous ride. There is snarky banter between characters (especially some street smart prostitutes), innovative kills and a sense of wackiness that invites the viewer to share in the joke. It is a party film, one to enjoy with friends who might include the filmmakers. For all its flaws, and they are numerous, Bad Candy offers enough wit and charm to warm the cockles as much as it turns the stomach.
Bad Candy follows in the tradition of Trick ’r Treat with various spooky stories taking place in New Salem on Halloween night. Radio DJs Chilly Billy (Corey Taylor) and Paul (Zach Galligan) relay these stories over the airways, from the girl who uses her drawings to strike back at her abusive stepfather to the veteran vigilantes who enact their own kind of rough justice. Some of these stories are weird, some are bonkers and most are thoroughly gruesome, directors Scott B. Hansen and Desiree Connell skimping on no amount of blood and viscera. Souls are sucked out, heads stabbed through doors (hello, Scream 2), various body parts go flying and, in perhaps the goriest moment, a body is quite literally ripped apart. But there’s more than gore, as genuine suspense is also crafted especially in one sequence involving a home invasion, reminding us that however creepy a demon or ghost may be, humans are the most terrifying monsters of all.
Where the film fumbles is in its overall structure. It is actually at some points unclear whether the DJs are telling the story or if we have simply cut away to another part of the town. Furthermore, early scenes had this reviewer wondering if this was a sequel to an earlier film. Recurring elements such as the eponymous demonic clown suggest a link between the stories, but these are only suggested, with the final tale of past sins coming back to haunt the sinner being too rushed to deliver much bite (or burn). The ramshackle nature of the plotting is also reflected in the film’s editing, which is often discontinuous and assaults the viewer with a barrage of images. This style is unsettling and reaches its strongest point during a scene that starts with an isolated woman (standard horror trope), moves into necrophilia territory (somewhat more surprising) and culminates with a seriously bad trip (or is it something more supernatural?). At other times, Hansen and Connell, who also edited and managed the production, seem to be drawing too much attention to their work which, while impressive, might have been more effective if integrated into a more cohesive whole.
Despite this lack of cohesion, Bad Candy is a hard film to dislike because of the sheer exuberance apparent in the filmmaking. From the committed characters to the copious gore and the energy that runs through the film, Hansen and Connell ensure that we are taken for a joyous ride. There is snarky banter between characters (especially some street smart prostitutes), innovative kills and a sense of wackiness that invites the viewer to share in the joke. It is a party film, one to enjoy with friends who might include the filmmakers. For all its flaws, and they are numerous, Bad Candy offers enough wit and charm to warm the cockles as much as it turns the stomach.