CANDYMAN @ 30

Helen, a postgrad on a thesis about urban myths, goes in search of the origin story of a local supernatural figure, the Candyman. She and her academic partner discover that her prestigious Chicago apartment block was originally intended as a housing project, like the one at Cabrini Green which has become shrouded in the Candyman mythology. Helen will cross the race class divide built in to the city's plan to find herself fatally enthralled to the charismatic figure as her comfortable bourgeoise life cracks, crumbles and collapses.

This adaptation of Clive Barker's The Forbidden was transplanted from the original setting of Liverpool to Chicago as the latter offered a genuine history of class and race town planning. Because of this, what might have been a perfectly acceptable late period slasher became a robust classic that provided a kind of apotheosis of the sub genre and overshadowed all comers until Scream changed the game. The lurking worry of the reach of the sinister public history of the city gives the sense of a cursed place, perfect for the rise of a predator who targets the underclasses in dingy lightless settings. Add a robust and practical visual style, fluid pacing, muscular performances and an expert Phillip Glass score, and that classic label just sticks itself on.

Virginia Madsen has to carry this film, despite the presence of a genuinely menacing counterpart. Her character finds herself easing into the kind of action forward player that women are still seldom offered as roles. By the time she is knee deep in the bloodshed of her obsession, her imploding marriage feels trivial. As she passes into the fog of whether she is psychotic or really moved by Candyman, she takes us with her whether we want to go or not. And that's against the presence and performance of Tony Todd. Todd's height and chiselled beauty make his stillness weigh a ton but his earth's core voice (assisted, frequently, by audio effects) embrace Helen and all viewers. When you add what becomes his troubling M.O. when "seen" by his pursuer, those qualities inform our dread. And never was a slasher so gracefully heavy.

The urban mythology at the heart of this story was already finding a fertile ground on the broadening internet. This would only spread, develop and grow on Usenet and in popular culture with efforts like The X Files. A whole movie concentrating on a single thread but beginning with the notion that urban legends were the stuff of academic pursuit was irresistible to an audience that was soon to prove insatiable, whether buying tickets or shelling out for VHS hire.

Candyman has the honour of being the finest adaptation of a Clive Barker property and that includes Barker's own direction of his Hellraiser. This is really saying something when compared to the adaptations of fellow horror literature figure Stephan King. Film versions of Kings books have a very inconsistent reputation overall, including Stanley Kubrick's take on The Shining. Barker's cinematic legacy suffers worse, outside of Hellraiser (the original, not the franchise). Candyman is oddly absent from lists of Barker's output even though it is one of the most successful and durable. It's not just the hook and the chocolates with razor fillings that keep us coming back to it but the social address, the have and have not divide, the solid world building, and the great struggle between a scientific Helen and her ethereal but murderous quarry that keep Candyman engaging and riveting, viewing after viewing after viewing. Worked then, works now.