All language subtitles for Candyman_2021_English-ELSUBTITLE.COM-ST_62347257

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull

CHORUS:
♪ Candy Man ♪

♪ Hey, Candy Man ♪

SAMMY DAVIS JR.:
All right, everybody.

Gather around,
the Candy Man is here.

What kind of candy you want?
The sweet chocolate?

Chocolate malted candy?

Gumdrops? Anything you want.

You've come to the right man
because I'm the Candy Man.

(chorus oohs)

♪ Who can take a sunrise ♪

♪ Who can take
a sunrise ♪

♪ Sprinkle it with dew ♪

- ♪ Sprinkle it with dew ♪
- (bees buzzing)

- ♪ Cover it with chocolate ♪
- (roars)

♪ And a miracle or two? ♪

♪ The Candy Man ♪

- (roars)
- ♪ The Candy Man ♪

♪ Ooh, the Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can
'cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes the world
taste good ♪

- ♪ Makes the world taste good ♪
- (bees buzzing)

♪ Now, who can take a rainbow ♪

♪ Who can take a rainbow ♪

♪ Wrap it in a sigh ♪

- (rattling)
- ♪ Wrap it in a sigh ♪

♪ Soak it in the sun
and make a groovy lemon pie? ♪

♪ The Candy Man ♪

♪ The Candy Man ♪

♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can
'cause he mixes it with love ♪

(distorted): ♪ And makes
the world taste good ♪

(distorted):
♪ Makes the world taste good. ♪

- (switch clicks)
- (music stops)

BOY (deep voice):
You're under arrest.

Get on your knees.

BOY (normal voice):
I didn't do anything.

(deep voice):
Hands. Hands. Hands.

WOMAN (calling):
William.

I know I told you
to take out the laundry.

- (indistinct chatter)
- (dog barking)

Billy, where you going?

Laundry.

Oh. Can you do mine?

No.

GIRL:
I hope Sherman gets you.

(chattering continues)

(music playing faintly
over speakers)

(indistinct radio transmission)

OFFICER:
If you see him, let us know.

We don't need him scaring
any more kids, all right?

(officer whistles)

(music continues playing
over speakers)

- (door closes)
- WOMAN: And that's the lowdown.

- Them kids...
- WOMAN 2: Mm-hmm.

WOMAN:
They're still looking for him.

Just don't get out after dark.
You know?

WOMAN 2:
That's what I said.

(light buzzing)

(timer whirring)

- (Billy pants)
- (light pings)

- (switch clicks)
- (sighs)

(liquid dripping)

(liquid dripping)

- (timer whirs)
- (lights buzzing)

(timer whirring)

(door closes)

(object clatters)

(switch clicks)

(gasps)

(breathes shakily)

(deep male voice humming)

(shuddering breath)

(continues humming)

(shuddering breath)

(train whistle blowing nearby)

There hasn't been
any new information.

- I don't know.
- (Billy screaming distantly)

(screaming continues)

We got a suspicious noise
coming from inside the building.

We're gonna check it out.

♪ ♪

(car door closes)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(traffic sounds)

- GRADY: You nervous?
- TROY: What?

You-You're doing that thing
with the bottle.

With your hands.

- Are you a little fidgety?
- No.

- No.
- Yeah.

Are you nervous?

No, I-I'm about to become
best friends with your sister.

You see?

How-how would you feel
about that?

- I'm fine. (chuckles)
- Uh-huh.

(mellow music
playing over speakers)

- (woman laughs)
- TROY: Mm-mm.

(smacking lips)
Mm-mm. Mm.

What is this wine? Walgreens?

Rothschild's?

We have a Moscato in the fridge,

- if that's more your taste.
- (laughs)

I think Postmates delivers wine.

Is this one of yours?

Yes. Very old piece.

He hates that
I put that up there.

At some point,
you gotta move on.

Oh, except that
you haven't though, right,

made a piece in, what,
two years?

It's just that you're my muse,

and I don't see you
often enough, Troy.

- (laughter)
- Mm-mm. Mm-mm.

- BRIANNA: Oh, my gosh, stop.
- Mm?

BRIANNA:
You are too much.

- Thank you.
- BRIANNA: Brat.

- ANTHONY: You should let it breathe.
- Shut up.

He's still salty we didn't
use him as our realtor.

- As you can tell.
- Mm-hmm.

Horrible.
How can you stand that?

No, no, no, no, no, sweetie.

You don't know the first thing
about Chicago real estate.

Oh, he must like you because
he is really showing his ass.

- (laughs)
- Isn't he always?

You overpaid, Bri.

It's not just the inside
that counts.

- It's close to the gallery.
- Yeah, it's very practical.

GRADY:
Okay, what is wrong with it?

- Nothing.
- Well,

as I told my sister many times,

- neighborhood is haunted.
- ANTHONY: Everywhere is haunted.

Uh-uh, Troy,
do not start with that.

Sure, sure, sure, but why'd
you have to choose a place

that used to be called
Smokey Hollow?

Then, Little Hell,
then what is it?

Uh, Combat Alley?

And what's it called now?

ANTHONY:
Cabrini-Green.

It was the projects.

It was affordable housing

that had a particularly
bad reputation.

You would never know.

ANTHONY:
Yeah, because they tore it down

and gentrified
the shit out of it.

Translation:
White people built the ghetto

and then erased it,

when they realized
they built the ghetto.

- Ooh, no offense.
- None taken.

TROY:
They took the opportunity

to make it livable.

I could have got you
a better conversion.

They kept telling people
they were gonna make it better,

moving 'em from place to place,

but really they were
just tearing it down,

so they could develop
everything around it.

Oh, like here.

You guys want to hear
a scary story?

- No.
- TROY: Too bad.

(Troy sniffs, clears throat)

(turns off music)

- (switch clicks)
- But I voted no.

- Troy...
- ANTHONY: Uh-oh.

- Oh, my gosh.
- (switch clicks)

Really?

(Brianna and Grady laugh)

ANTHONY:
This shit better be good.

(Brianna and Grady laugh)

TROY:
This is a story

about a woman named Helen Lyle.

She was a grad student,

a white grad student,
doing her thesis

on the urban legends
of Cabrini-Green.

For research, she came down to
Cabrini a few times, you know.

Asking questions,
taking pictures of graffiti,

- of people.
- (camera whirs)

And then, one day,

- she just...
- (bee buzzing)

snaps.

She beheaded a Rottweiler.

By the time the police show up,

she's in one of the apartments,

doing snow angels
in a pool of blood.

- Ew.
- Okay, bullshit.

- BRIANNA: Troy.
- ANTHONY: I call bullshit.

Where do you get this from?

There's no way
she killed a Rottweiler?

Yeah, this is extra,
even for you.

There are articles written
about this.

- Look it up.
- (Brianna scoffs)

TROY:
The authorities take her in,

but she escapes
almost immediately.

She goes on a rampage.

Leaving a trail of bodies
in her wake and then,

the baby of one of the residents

- is abducted.
- (baby crying)

The mother is devastated.

Everyone is looking for him,

and nothing.

On the night
of the annual bonfire,

with all of the residents
of Cabrini watching,

Helen arrives...

- with a sacrificial offering.
- (baby crying)

Baby in her arms,
she runs towards the fire,

but they're on her quick.

They say she was in a,
in a fugue state,

fighting back, blindly.

But they got the baby free.

While everyone
is fussing over him,

- Helen stands up
- (baby crying)

- and walks right into the fire.
- (flames crackling)

And it's on that spot
that she dies,

burns to death,

right in the middle
of Cabrini-Green.

(gasps) Is my rosé
still in the freezer?

You don't want the Moscato?

- Moscato's a dessert wine.
- (Anthony chuckles)

- Bye, Bree-Bree. Mm.
- Mwah.

BRIANNA: Love you.
So nice to meet you.

TROY:
And, Anthony, get painting.

My sister's not trying
to support you

the rest of her life.

Put down those weights,
pick up them brushes.

- BRIANNA: Troy...
- TROY: Come on.

He's funny.

He is ridiculous.

He is right.

- (water running)
- BRIANNA: I'm just glad Troy's

- finally dating someone normal.
- (turns off water)

I was getting exhausted
trying to keep up

with all those
European fashion designers.

(singsongy):
Hello?

What time is Clive
coming tomorrow?

10:00 a.m.

You feeling good
about what you're showing?

Uh... I think so.

Uh...

Some stuff he might enjoy.

BRIANNA:
Mm... Hmm.

Okay, okay.

(both grunt)

Huh.

I guess she did kill
a Rottweiler. Damn,

I don't care.

I'm not trying
to get creeped out

in my new apartment before bed.

Your new apartment
is ghost-proof.

It was on the Zillow listing.

- Our new apartment.
- Mm-hmm.

Sorry. Mm.

(distant sirens wailing)

- (laughs) Come here.
- (Anthony chuckles)

(kissing)

CLIVE:
Hmm.

Who are you, man?

Uh, well... (chuckles)

CLIVE: This is Anthony McCoy
of two years ago.

I want the Anthony McCoy
of the future.

I want the great Black hope

of the Chicago art scene
of tomorrow.

That's the guy
that I gave a solo show to

straight outta grad school.

(sighs) Look, I really
don't want to have to go through

the trouble of replacing you
in the summer show,

but you're the only person
who hasn't shown me

what I'm actually putting up.

I'm working on something new.

Like, dig into
that history of yours, dude.

I'm... I'm thinking about

doing something
about the projects.

And about how, uh,
white supremacy...

White people.

Yeah, how it-it creates
these spaces

of... of rampant neglect
for communities of color,

in particular,
Black communities.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
like where you're from.

- Yeah. Bronzeville.
- Eh,

South Side is kind of played.

Uh, or Cabrini-Green.

JERRICA:
I am hungry.

CLIVE:
Me, too.

Bye, babe. Oh, don't forget
we have your mom's tonight.

7:00.

Mwah.

(whooshes)

(laughs)
Bye.

(upbeat fusion music playing)

(flames crackling)

♪ ♪

(bee buzzing)

(camera beeps)

(camera clicks)

(groans softly)

(buzzing)

(indistinct whispering)

- (car horn honks)
- (whispering stops)

(birds chirping)

(insects chirring)

♪ ♪

(metal creaks rhythmically)

(birds chirping)

(insects chirring)

(beeps quietly)

(rhythmic creaking continues)

(rhythmic creaking continues)

- (deep whooshing)
- (gasps)

(exhales sharply)

(camera beeps)

(twig snaps)

(insects chirring)

(siren whooping)

(departing siren wailing)

MAN: They'd almost never come
round here back in the day.

Unless it was
to take someone in.

Ha. But that was
a long time ago.

Now, they can't seem
to stay away.

At night, they post up where
the last of us still live...

a police car
on either side of the block.

Keeping us safe...

or keeping us in.

You lived around here
for a while?

Yeah, since before
the high-rises came down.

William. William Burke.

Anthony McCoy.

- Oh.
- (snaps fingers)

You need a hand?

- (bell jingles)
- WILLIAM: Home sweet home.

(William chuckles)

Ah, the more things change,
the more things stay the same.

How you doin', brother?

Ask the white people around here
about "Girl X," Dantrell Davis.

Blank stares.

One white woman dies
in the hood,

and the story lives on forever.

It's a good story, I guess.

You mind if I take some notes?

(pen clicks)

Makes you think about

what could make someone
just snap like that.

Helen Lyle was out here
looking for Candyman.

You ask me, I say she found him.

What's Candyman?

WILLIAM: For me, Candyman was
a guy named Sherman Fields.

He had a hook for a hand.

Neighborhood character,
he used to stand out there

and hand out sweets to us
when I was a kid.

One October,

a razor blade shows up

in a little white girl's
Halloween candy.

Police come around here
looking for Sherman,

but Sherman's gone.

And one day...

...I saw him myself.

(approaching footsteps)

(Sherman humming)

(humming continues)

(hook scrapes on wall)

WILLIAM: He'd been hiding
in the walls.

(screaming)

(screaming continues
in distance)

(indistinct radio chatter)

We got a suspicious noise...

That's when I saw
the true face of fear.

(running footsteps above)

OFFICER (muffled):
Come on, come on. Come on.

All right, come on. Go, go, go.

- (running footsteps)
- Go, go. Come on.

(officers shouting indistinctly)

(shouting fades)

(officers shouting grows louder)

OFFICER (muffled):
Go. Come on, go, go, go.

(muffled running footsteps)

(candy clatters)

Over here.

- (shouting)
- Get out of here. Come on.

(shouting indistinctly)

(shouting continues)

WILLIAM:
They swarmed him.

- (shouting continues)
- (blows landing)

- (door closes)
- (muffled thudding)

Killed him
right there on the spot.

(bee buzzing)

(Sherman screaming)

What shows up
a couple weeks later?

More razor blades in more candy.

That's when we knew,
Sherman had been innocent.

Harmless.

But that wasn't the last
we saw of him.

♪ ♪

(cracks knuckles)

♪ ♪

(distant traffic sounds)

♪ ♪

I don't know what to tell you.

Beshaw dropped out of my show.

Oh, I told you months ago
to put her in rehab.

You fix this.

(speaking French)

Ah, merci.

Huh?

Uh... (sighs)

(speaks French)

Uh-huh.

Uh, huh, okay. Okay.

(speaks French)

- (sighs)
- What's up?

You forgot your mother's.

Shit. I'm sorry.

Will you please call that woman?

- Tomorrow. I want...
- You said that yesterday.

And it's nice that she wants
to spend time with you.

Not everyone has that.

(keyboard clacking)

Is she okay?

She implied that I give you
money, so you won't visit her.

So, she's about the same.

- Stop it.
- (chuckles) That's great.

I want to show you something.

Uh...

Do I need to come upstairs?

Stay right there. Stay
right there. Stay right there.

All righty then.

ANTHONY:
Sherman's face

was beaten so badly,

that it was unrecognizable,

and that's where
the story started.

About them seeing him
around Cabrini.

About him coming to get you.

Over time, his name disappears,

and he just becomes
the Candyman.

What do you think?

Well...

it's a pretty literal approach.

Not much room for viewer
interpretation, you know,

moving from the symbolism
of violence

to the actual depiction of it.

Okay, but how-how
is it hitting you?

It's...

painful.

I feel really connected to this.

I've never been
this clear before.

It's like I know exactly

what I'm meant to be doing
right now.

Babe... that's great.

(chuckles)
And I'm sure Clive will be...

Oh, th... oh,
there-there's one more thing.

The legend is,
if you say his name five times

while looking in the mirror,

he appears in the reflection
and kills you.

- (scoffs)
- So,

I thought that we could...

(laughs)
What did you think?

(quietly):
Summon him.

(scoffs)

Hell no.

No.

Candyman.

Anthony.

- Candyman.
- Anthony, no.

- Candyman.
- Stop. Stop it.

- Candyman.
- Stop it.

(laughs)
Okay.

You better not do that last one.

Okay, okay. Okay.

(quietly):
Candyman.

- Anthony, you play too much.
- (yells)

- You play too much. Ooh.
- No, no, stop. Stop.

What happened to your hand?

- Fucking bee sting.
- Really?

Yeah, shit hurt.

Oh. Looks like it.

Mm, kiss it.

Get the fuck outta here.

Help. Help.

♪ ♪

- ♪ ♪
- (low crowd chatter)

(crowd chattering)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(camera clicking)

We can go now.

Finally.

BRIANNA:
Last year, we did a solo booth

at Frieze L.A. with Jameson.

Phenomenal work.

And these are related works,

but here he's recreating
and looping archival footage.

You just take your time.

Let me know
if you need anything.

This is quite a departure
from your previous work.

Go ahead, open it.

(latch clicks)

I'm trying to align
these moments in time

that exist in the same place.

The idea is
to almost calibrate tragedy

into a focused lineage
that culminates in the now.

Brianna.

Tell your boy
not to hog the critic.

He's got a whole thing.

CLIVE:
Yeah, no, I-I know.

I heard it.
It's complicated.

Well, she's interacting
with the piece.

ANTHONY:
The mirror invites you

to attempt
the summoning yourself.

Ah.

Anyway, I don't know why I'm

standing next to my own piece
like some kind of asshole.

The work speaks for itself.

Oh, it-it speaks, all right.
(chuckles)

(inhales sharply)

It speaks in didactic
knee-jerk clichés

about the ambient violence
of the gentrification cycle.

But your kind
are the real pioneers

of that cycle, you know.

Excuse me?

Artists.

Artists descend upon
disenfranchised neighborhoods

divining cheap rent,

so that they can dick around
in their studios

without the crushing burden
of a day job.

I'm gonna get another drink.

- Should we try it?
- What?

Summon the Candyman?

Uh, yeah, no.

Black people don't need
to be summoning shit.

Oh, come on, that is nonsense.

This isn't the bayou.

In Chicago,
that's white people shit.

Mm.

Candyman. Candym...

Zip it. Hey, stop.

- (quietly): Candyman.
- Stop it.

(crowd chatter)

MAN: Oh, of course, I did.
I owe Brianna one.

She introduced me to
Thelma Golden three years ago.

BRIANNA:
You still owe me one for that.

- (both chuckle)
- And, uh...

Ah.

Tony, is it?

I love interventionist strategy.

Conventional painting
is such a drag.

I love that you hid
those fucking things

in a storage room
with the lights out.

So smart.

Is all your work
based on found material?

I mean, where'd you even find
those paintings?

Thrift store in the desert?

(both snicker)

I found them in the studio
where I painted them,

you goofy ass fuck.

- (Jerrica laughs)
- BRIANNA: Hey.

And you, you fucking hyenas.

- BRIANNA: Hey. Let's go.
- CLIVE: Oh. What the fuck?

- BRIANNA: Clive.
- (Clive scoffs)

- BRIANNA: Anthony.
- You think you'd even be here

if it wasn't for her?

Shouldn't you be somewhere
stocking up

on morning-after pills
to accommodate

- your summer intern program?
- Okay. Honey, please.

That's not spontaneous.

He had, he had...
You had that one in the bank.

Yeah, I did, bitch.

Ooh. (chuckles)

That's fine. I can take
being called a bitch.

- It's fine. I'm on the NuvaRing.
- (door closes)

I know, I know. I...

Thanks for coming.

(crowd chatter continues)

♪ ♪

(train brakes squealing)

(thunder rumbling,
rain pattering)

(thunder rumbling)

CLIVE:
I'm so fucking over it.

Honestly, if she can't
control her man, uh...

JERRICA:
She lost control.

Yeah, and it's like,
do I get a thank you? No.

Do I get an apology
for that display?

JERRICA:
Atrocity exhibition.

(groans)
Shoehorning her boyfriend

into my summer show
was her first mistake.

- Only mistake.
- (sighs)

She's done. And she has
no one to blame but herself.

Don't mix curation
with who you're fucking.

(Jerrica chuckles)

Love will tear us apart.

Jesus, Jerrica, we get it.
You like Joy Division.

- (Jerrica laughs softly)
- (sighs)

(bottles clatter)

What's that thing again?

(sighs)
What thing?

You know.

Say what five times
in the mirror?

(sighs)
You tell me.

You proofread
the press release, Jerrica.

"Candyman."

(hesitantly):
But don't do it, okay?

I don't want you to die tonight.

At least not until we fuck.

(scoffs)

You're no good for me.

You know what?
I changed my mind. Do it.

Necrophilia has always been
on my bucket list.

JERRICA:
Mm?

- (shoes clatter)
- CLIVE: Mm.

CLIVE:
Hmm.

- Let's do it here then.
- Um...

No, I've been here all day.

Come on.

(moans)

(rain pattering)

- (Clive moans)
- (Jerrica chuckles)

JERRICA:
Candyman.

CLIVE:
Are you serious?

JERRICA:
Quiet, bitch.

(rain pattering)

- JERRICA: Candyman.
- CLIVE: Mm.

JERRICA:
Candyman.

(bee buzzing)

- JERRICA: Candyman.
- CLIVE: Mm.

JERRICA:
Candyman.

(bee buzzing, tapping on glass)

(buzzing stops)

(tapping)

- (buzzes)
- JERRICA: See?

Nothing.

CLIVE:
So much for that.

(kissing)

- (blade slashes)
- (Jerrica gasps)

(Clive grunting)

- (gasping)
- Is this real?

- Is this real?
- (coughing)

What the fuck.
(breathing heavily)

- What the fuck.
- (blood squelches)

- (bee buzzing)
- (Clive breathing heavily)

(low, raspy breathing)

CLIVE:
Hello?

(low, raspy breathing continues)

(video squelching)

(bees buzzing)

CLIVE:
What the fuck.

(loud buzzing, tearing)

(Clive whimpers)

Fuck.

(Clive gasping)

(low, raspy breathing)

- (buckle rattles)
- Oh... fuck.

(bees buzzing)

Fuck me. Must go faster.

(buzzing grows louder)

Must go faster.

(low, raspy breathing)

Fuck.

(screams)

(whimpering)

No. No. No.

(grunting)

Stop. Stop. Stop.

No. No.

(screaming)

(groans)

(strained grunting)

(gasping)

(grunting)

♪ ♪

(lock clicks)

(door creaks open)

(breathing heavily)

(quietly):
Fucking assholes.

(groans)

♪ ♪

(bees buzzing)

REPORTER:
The murders occurred

after Night Driver Gallery's
group show opening.

The bodies were discovered
in front of a piece

from rising star Anthony McCoy
entitled Say My Name.

Law enforcement officers
say they are investigating...

(turns off TV)

(rain pattering)

Say My Name.

They said my name.

(chuckles)

And Say My Name.

(rain pattering)

I don't know, just...

It's-it's cool to be mentioned,
I guess.

Uh, I mean, obvious...

Obviously, it's...
Obviously it's awful.

TROY:
Really?

(rain pattering)

(bees buzzing)

(insects chirring)

BRIANNA:
Clive?

(bees buzzing)

(buzzing grows louder)

GIRL:
Dad?

(hesitantly):
Why are you sitting there?

Hey.

I bet you didn't know
your daddy could fly.

Did you?

- (whimpers)
- Well, I can.

- (Brianna gasping)
- (buzzing)

(Brianna screams)

(rain pattering)

(breathing heavily)

(rain pattering)

(low, raspy breathing)

(gasps loudly)

(water running)

BRIANNA:
Anthony?

(water continues running)

- Anthony?
- (turns off water)

Are you okay?

I had a bad dream.

Me, too.

What was it?

What was what?

The dream.

Uh...

I'll be out...
I'll be out in a minute.

BRIANNA:
Anthony?

(low chatter)

So, I don't know what this is,

or how you knew it existed,

but this is everything
we have under Helen Lyle.

I didn't.
That's why I had to ask.

Um... well,

- here it is.
- (slides folder)

Thank you. Appreciate it.

Of course, yeah. I found it
filed under True Crimes.

Work-study undergrads
are the worst.

So, are you a student?

(button clicks)

HELEN (on recording): Some of
the things that have happened

in Cabrini over the years,

violence just so extreme,
so bizarre.

It's almost as if violence
became the ritual.

The worst part,

the residents are afraid
to call the police.

A code of honor, perhaps,
fear of the police themselves.

The easy answer is always,
"Candyman did it."

The summoning game itself
could be connected.

I mean, it's clear that
no one person makes this up.

This grew from the community's
collective subconscious.

A survival tool
evolved from the need

to protect itself

- and its children
- (elevator bell dings)

from the horrors
of the community.

(doors opening)

- (chuckles softly)
- Bernadette and I

tried the summoning.

It's amazing
how effective it can be.

The suggestion that you're
being followed or stalked

by something lurking
in your own reflection.

But I get it.

(metallic creaking, thud)

...intoxicating,
inexplicably alluring

about the promise
of seeing a ghost.

(Helen continues
indistinctly over earphone)

(electronical crackling)

Come on.

(alarm ringing)

- (chuckles)
- (alarm stops)

(object clatters)

(groans)

(wrapper crinkling)

(liquid dripping)

(low, raspy breathing)

- (gasping)
- (electrical crackling)

- (raspy breathing continues)
- (Anthony panting)

(glass crackling)

- (cries out)
- (electrical crackling)

- (elevator whirring)
- (gasps)

(doors opening)

(low murmurs, chuckling)

- MAN: Hey.
- WOMAN: Hey.

(indistinct murmuring)

Excuse me.

KITTY (on recording):
...and-and she heard a noise.

HELEN:
Do you remember her name?

KITTY: I think her name
was Ruthie Jean,

and-and she heard this bangin'
and smashin',

like somebody was trying
to make a hole in the wall.

- (phone buzzing)
- So, Ruthie called 911,

and she said, there's somebody
coming through the walls.

And they didn't believe her.

HENRIETTA: They thought
the lady was crazy, right?

KITTY: Mm-hmm.
So, she called 911 again,

and they still
didn't believe her.

But when they finally
got there, she was dead.

HELEN:
Was she shot?

KITTY:
No.

No, she was killed with a hook.

Yeah.

- HELEN: Is it true?
- (brush stroking rapidly)

HENRIETTA: Yeah, it is.
I read it in the papers.

- (phone buzzing)
- Candyman killed her.

KITTY:
Yeah, but, um,

I don't know nothing about that.

Hello?

ANTHONY:
I'm going out.

We have the dinner tonight.

ANTHONY: I don't know
how long I'll be.

Well, Jack Hyde is coming in
from New York,

and he never comes to Chicago.

So, please don't fuck this up.

ANTHONY (chuckles):
I'll be fine.

BRIANNA:
For me.

Don't fuck this up for me.

♪ ♪

(siren wailing in distance)

(electrical buzzing)

(man speaking indistinctly)

(man shouting, muffled)

(baby crying)

(doorbell dings)

WOMAN:
It's been, um,

a crazy couple of weeks.

That is putting it mildly.

- (both chuckle)
- (music playing faintly)

WOMAN:
As you can imagine,

what I'm writing is no longer
an exhibition review.

It's... it's now expanded
into a larger article,

which impacts both the works

and the circumstances
around the murders.

I see.

So, I just wanted to get a,
a few quotes from you.

Well, I don't know much
of anything.

Your work is so macabre,
and that's...

pretty interesting,
considering what happened.

That's a coincidence.

I'm not saying
that you're at fault,

and I'm certainly not saying
that a ghost manifested

by collective storytelling

(laughs):
killed a prominent art dealer.

I'm just saying that...

all of a sudden,
your work seems...

eternal.

What's next?

I'm expanding the work
into a series.

I'm hoping to do a solo show,

all about Candyman.
Spread the word.

Mm, I love that idea.

I'm surprised at how positive

your take on my piece
seems to be now.

Well, it grew on me.

Seemed like
you didn't quite get it.

No, I get it. It's the hood,
gentrification, et cetera.

Artists gentrify the hood?

Who do you think makes the hood?

The city cuts off a community
and waits for it to die.

Then, they invite
developers in and say,

"Hey, you artists,

"you young people, you white,
preferably or only,

"please come to the hood,
it's cheap.

"And if you stick it out
for a couple of years,

we'll bring you a Whole Foods."

You want to be a part
of the story, right?

Well, as a critic,
I think that I...

To really engage with the work,

to "get it"...

you should say it.

- Say what?
- Say his name.

(scoffs)

Think I need
to use the bathroom.

Oh, this a good a time as any.

I dare you.

(exhales heavily)

(clears throat)

TRAIN ANNOUNCER: Doors open to
the right at State and Lake.

Transfer to Red Line trains
at State and Lake.

(sighs)

CANDYMAN (softly):
Anthony...

(groans)

- (knocks on wall)
- ANTHONY: Finley?

♪ ♪

(cries out)

(low, raspy breathing)

(raspy breathing continues)

(raspy breathing continues)

(bee buzzing, tapping on glass)

(buzzing, tapping continue)

(gasps)

(buzzing grows louder)

(buzzing continues)

- FINLEY: Are you all right?
- (gasps)

- I thought, uh...
- What?

I gotta go. (groans)

♪ ♪

(thudding)

(siren wailing in distance
horn blaring)

(low, muffled conversations)

MAN (muffled):
Really?

No one's buying it,
not that I care.

(conversation continues
indistinct, muffled)

(wet squishing)

Careful.

MAN:
I love being here.

It's so provincial,
yet exciting.

Oh, my God, have you met
Danielle Harrington?

She's chief...

Curator at the MCA.

I, I find it crazy that
we actually haven't met yet.

I've been so eager to meet you.

MAN:
Don't you start already.

I get first dibs.

Clive literally had to die
for Brianna to be free.

Sorry. (chuckles)

Jameson's doing a show
at my gallery in New York.

I think it's the perfect
opportunity for you

to spread your wings a bit more.

Come to the big city.

I could introduce you
to the women of Entre Nous

if you decide on New York.

Wow. Thank you.

I've actually been considering
going out on my own.

Don't you want to focus
on working with artists

instead of chasing
outstanding invoices?

You can change the institution
from the inside.

You should come
by the museum sometime.

Okay.

- Uh, I think I'd like that.
- (phone buzzing)

- JAMESON: Oh, my God.
- (phone chimes)

- What's wrong?
- What's happening?

Finley Stephens was found dead
in her apartment.

DANIELLE:
Her husband found her.

Poor thing.
Oh, her husband's a suspect.

I have to go.

Anthony.

WAITRESS:
Oh.

- ♪ ♪
- (machines whirring)

Anthony?

ANTHONY:
What is he?

WILLIAM:
Candyman ain't a he.

Candyman's the whole damn hive.

There are others?

WILLIAM:
Samuel Evans.

Run down during the white
housing riots of the '50s.

William Bell,
lynched in the '20s.

But the first one,
where it all began,

was in the 1890s.

It's the story Helen found.

The story of Daniel Robitaille.

He'd made a good living
touring the country

painting portraits
for wealthy families,

mostly white,
and they loved him.

But you know how it goes.

They love what we make,
but not us.

One day, he's commissioned

to paint the daughter
of a Chicago factory owner

who made his fortune
in the stockyards.

Well,

Robitaille committed
the ultimate sin of his time.

They fell in love.

They had an affair,
she got pregnant.

The girl tells her father,
and, well,

- (woman sobbing)
- you know...

He hires some men

to hunt Robitaille down,

told 'em to get creative.

Chased him through here
in the middle of the day.

He collapses from exhaustion

right near where the old tower
in Chestnut used to be.

They beat him.

Tortured him.

They cut off his arm

and jam a meat hook
in the stump.

They smear honeycomb
from the nearby hives

on his chest
and let the bees sting him.

A crowd started to form
to watch the show.

The big finale?

They set him on fire

and he finally dies.

But a story like that,

a pain like that,

lasts forever.

That's Candyman.

So...

he's real?

Bell is real.

Samuel, Sherman,
Daniel Robitaille.

They're all real.

Candyman is how
we deal with the fact

that these things happened.

That they're still happening.

Get some rest, youngblood.

You'll feel better
in the mornin'.

- ANTHONY: Don't look at those.
- (gasps)

What the fuck is this?

You shouldn't
be looking at this.

Anthony, we are beyond
sensitive artist bullshit.

What is going on?

I think... I think...

- I made a mistake, Bri.
- What do you mean?

I brought him back.

Who?

You promise
you won't think I'm crazy?

Anthony, who?

- Oh, God. Oh...
- Oh.

- Burke, B-Burke told me...
- God. Who-who is Burke?

From the laundromat.
He knows about it, all of it.

Knows about what?

Candyman.

(breathes shakily)

- Candyman isn't real.
- I saw him.

Candyman isn't real, Anthony.

You know,
you know what is real?

Me, Anthony. Me.

This, this is real.

- You don't understand.
- Okay.

I-I will show you that...

Yeah, okay.

- Candyman.
- No.

- Candyman.
- (grunts)

(Brianna yelps)

- (grunts)
- (Brianna screams)

Don't...

(panting)

...say his name.

You stay the fuck right there.

- Brianna...
- Don't follow me.

TROY:
Mm-mm. Mm-mm.

Let that motherfucker try
and come up in here.

Fuckin' art ogre,
fuckin' fee-fi-fo-fum.

Grady will stomp on his ass.

- Isn't that right, Grady?
- If I have to stomp,

I'll stomp.

BRIANNA: I mean,
he literally was, like,

"I summoned Candyman,"
and I'm like...

Candyman ain't real, nigga.

I told you not to start dating
that Dapper Dan-ass,

lil' Basquiat-ass,
fuckin' no-job Sun Ra...

Troy. Okay.

Ain't a dick on the planet
good enough

to offset a demonology hobby.

Okay, Troy, stop. Just...

What? It's the truth.
If Grady came up in here

smashing mirrors...

(quietly):
Mirrors.

- (quietly): He's right.
- Uh-huh.

All right,
you take care of Lucy.

And you are in time-out.

- Come here.
- (jazz music playing faintly)

- Break it up.
- (chuckles)

TROY:
I spoke to Mom.

She wants to close
the storage unit out,

so we finally have to deal
with Dad's work.

I was thinking maybe we could

sell or...

if you want to keep anything...

No. I don't want any of that
in my house. Thank you.

Well, then, sell or do a show.

I think you should, I think you
should open a space...

I'm not doing a show

of the thing
that killed him, Troy.

You can't hide everything,
and then...

and then just hope it goes away.

- Troy.
- And you don't have to be there

every time a tortured artist
has a psychotic break.

(faint jazz music continues)

- I'm sorry.
- (scoffs)

Bri.

I'm glad you're here.

And you can stay
as long as you want,

on the condition you don't try
and summon Candyman.

Who would do that?

- (school bell ringing)
- What's up, girl?

(students chattering
and laughing)

(boys exclaim and laugh)

SAMANTHA: Trina was
fooked up this weekend.

ANNIKA: Guys, what should I do
about my bangs?

SAMANTHA: No one cares
about your bangs, Annika.

CELINE:
Annika, look at this.

Trina's fucking trashed. Look.
Watch, watch, watch, watch.

- ANNIKA: Where is this?
- CELINE: Samantha.

- SAMANTHA: Oh, my God.
- BOOF: That's so sad.

(girls gasp)

SAMANTHA:
Oh, shit.

ANNIKA: Look at
this chunky-ass vomit.

CELINE: Oh, my gosh,
in front of everyone.

Have you guys heard of Candyman?

Fuck this. I changed my mind.

- I'm not gonna do...
- Oh, come on, Boof.

Don't be a pussy.

Why not? It's a warm
and wonderful thing.

Oh, Boof,
we're already in formation.

- Fine.
- Okay, ready?

Candyman.

All at once, dumbass.

ALL:
Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

- (window thuds)
- (gasps)

- Not today. Not today.
- BOOF: Come on.

Two more times.

ALL:
Candyman.

One more.

ALL:
Candyman.

Well, we're still alive, so...

(door slams open)

Hey, Trina.

HALEY (chuckles):
Let's go.

(chuckles)

Hey, Triney,

- how's that hangover?
- (bangs on door)

- (music playing over headphones)
- ANNIKA: You're such a mess.

(girls laughing)

(door banging)

CELINE:
Oh, Trina was fucking trashed.

HALEY:
Don't let her drink that much.

ANNIKA:
That's between her and her god.

HALEY: Trina,
you broke the fucking door.

(over headphones):
♪ So I might be enough ♪

(rattling)

CELINE: Haley, I'm too young
to die. Open it.

- HALEY: I'm working on it.
- (bee buzzing)

(low, raspy breathing)

(door rattles)

Guys...

What the fuck?

- Wait, I forgot my vape.
- Boof. Uh...

You know,
I-I don't think you should...

(thudding)

- (Haley grunting)
- Boof?

- (crackling)
- Boof?

What are you doing?

(crackling continues)

(cracking and squelching)

(liquid burbling)

(both gasp)

- (gulps)
- HALEY: Oh, my God, guys.

- Haley, Haley.
- Stop being so stupid.

I don't think you
should go there. Haley.

(muffled shouting)

(over headphones):
♪ My own ♪

- ♪ My own ♪
- (girls screaming)

♪ I don't wanna wait ♪

- (door banging)
- (girls continue screaming)

- (squelching)
- (music continues indistinctly)

(whimpers)

TRINA: What the fuck?
What the fuck?

- Celine, this isn't funny.
- (thudding)

(girls grunting, screaming)

You guys, what the fuck?
This isn't funny.

(bee buzzing)

- (panting)
- ♪ To love myself however I feel ♪

- ♪ A place where I'm alone ♪
- (buzzing)

- (hook slashing)
- (grunting sigh)

- HALEY: No. (panting)
- ♪ Searching for ♪

- (whimpered scream)
- ♪ A place where I'm alone ♪

(Haley crying)

♪ I get lost when I'm alone ♪

- (hook slashes)
- HALEY (screams): No!

- ♪ Alone. ♪
- (hook slashes)

(rustling)

(distant siren wailing)

(groaning)

(glass tinkling)

(clatters)

(whimpering)

(whimpering groan)

(gasping)

(rubbing hands together)

We've been trying to move
in a fresher direction

for the past few years,

and our last curator
was a great guy,

but just had a hard time
getting there.

Well, I've certainly noticed
a shift in programming

since you started here.

Hopefully for the best.

I'm so happy I finally got
to meet you at Jack's dinner.

Yes. And you know what?

I think he's been trying to
get us together before that...

It's crazy about Clive.

I heard you were the one
to find the bodies.

- Yeah, um... uh...
- (guide speaking indistinctly)

You've really emerged

as an interesting figure
amidst all this.

The show you put together
sounded so good, too.

You were so brave
to embrace formlessness...

Well, actually,
there were a lot of bodies...

mm, figures in the show.

Like Arnold's work.

For so long,
abstraction has been about

indexing a sublimated
emotional state,

and I just wanted
to focus on the body.

Oh, of course, but I mean,

between the recent tragedies
and your father's legacy,

you've got a fascinating story.

Right.

And your eye
for emerging talent.

How long have you worked
with Anthony McCoy?

Just a couple years.

My board members are buzzing
about McCoy's work.

Feels like a Project Room show

is something we could
start talking about.

(departing footsteps)

And, of course, any other
artist you have your eye on.

NEWS ANCHOR (on TV):
The Near North Side community,

once known as Cabrini-Green,

is stunned by the vicious mass
murder at Golin College Prep.

Police have found a startling
link to the art world murders,

in particular,
a piece called Say My Name,

which was written
in the victims' blood

on the bathroom wall.

DR. COLLINS:
Welcome back, Mr. McCoy.

What?

I saw in your file
you were born here.

I was born on the South Side.

Mm... No, it says
you were born here.

Regardless, it is good that
you came in when you did.

We need to admit you immediately

(fading): for monitoring
and do some more testing.

(rain pattering loudly on glass)

CANDYMAN:
Anthony...

(knocks on door)

(door creaks opens)

Anthony, where have you been?

(rain pattering)

What happened to your hand?

Looks bad.

Went to River North Memorial,
near Cabrini.

They fixed me right up.

You been paintin'?

(chuckles)

Uh, yeah, I've been
inspired a lot, actually.

By Cabrini.

You want some tea?

I heard a story about a fire.

Killed a woman named Helen Lyle.

A baby that was taken.

Something they used
to call Candyman.

(shushes)

Don't.

Don't say that.

You told me I was born
on the South Side.

I did raise you
in the home you remember.

But you were born
in River North Memorial

and spent the first two years
in Cabrini.

Why did you lie?

To protect you.

From what?

I just wanted you
to grow up happy

and normal.

Do I look normal, Mama?

- (grunts softly)
- I have to know.

Now.

(sighs softly)

When you first got taken,

I thought she was
the one who did it.

(sobs)

When you first got taken,

I thought she was
the one who did it.

Helen.

(flames crackling)

The way I found her
in our apartment,

covered in blood.

We all thought she was crazy.

But it wasn't her.

It was him.

(flames crackling)

He had a purpose for you.

(baby fussing)

He chose you to be

one of his victims.

He wanted you to burn
in that fire.

But she pulled you out

and gave you back to me.

(chuckles)

- (clamoring)
- (baby crying)

ANNE-MARIE: I thought
it ended that night.

CANDYMAN:
Wait.

- ANNE-MARIE: In the fire,
- (scream)

I thought she ended it.

And we vowed
to never say his name again.

But...

someone broke the pact and...

- He found me.
- (sobs)

I'm sorry.

(sobs)

Anthony, wait, wait,
wait, baby, wait.

(tearfully): Anthony,
where are you going?

Anthony, baby, wait, wait, wait.

(sobbing)

(insects chirring)

(muffled banging)

♪ ♪

Anthony?

It is Troy.

Come out immediately
where I can see you.

Immediately.

Troy, stop. Please. Oh, my gosh.

We are picking up her things

and we will...

be leaving with them.

I see. Yeah, thanks.

He's not with Noah either.

What the hell is going on?

Maybe Candyman got his ass.

That's not funny, Troy.

♪ ♪

(coin clattering)

(door chimes)

(rumbling)

(machine buzzer sounds)

(latch clicks, door creaks open)

Hello?

(lock clicks)

Anthony?

(doorknob rattles)

(hinges creaking)

Nope.

(rattling)

Fuck.

Hello!

Excuse me!

Please!

- (music plays over earphones)
- (coins jingling)

- (banging)
- Hello!

(music continues over earphones)

(Brianna breathing shakily)

(pounding on door)

GIRL:
Go away.

- BOY: I want to play.
- GIRL: No.

BOY:
Please? I'm not scared anymore.

GIRL:
Go play with your puppets.

BOY: I'm gonna pee on your
bed if you don't let me in.

GIRL: You're being
so annoying right now.

What are you doing?

GIRL:
Mind your business.

Come on, let me play. Please.

GIRL:
This game is for grown-ups,

and you're a big baby.

BILLY:
I'm not a baby.

Go away.

- GIRL: Okay, you ready?
- (Billy sighs)

GIRL 2:
No. This is not gonna work.

GIRL:
Candyman.

- (object thuds)
- Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

(muffled thud)

BILLY:
I said...

- Sabrina?
- (liquid dripping)

(gasps)

- (gasping)
- (bees buzzing)

(low, raspy breathing)

Sherman.

(shushing)

(bee buzzing)

(breathing heavily)

Now...

we have a witness.

(trembling breaths)

MAN:
Hello?

Yes, I think I saw
the guy you're looking for.

The "Say My Name" killer.

He's roaming around
the rowhouses at Cabrini.

Uh, uh, a Black man, around 30.

He was waving a hook
and talking crazy.

I think he's killing people
down there!

- (rattling)
- What the fuck?

(phone beeps off)

BRIANNA (quietly):
What the fuck?

I was baptized here.

Isn't it beautiful?

A-A-An... Anthony?

(low, indistinct whispering)

(chuckles):
Oh, uh...

Yeah, I-I guess I'm on
some other shit now, huh?

(Brianna whimpering)

WILLIAM:
When something leaves a stain,

even if you wash it out,

it's still there.

You can feel it.

Uh, uh... a thinning,
deep in the fabric.

This neighborhood
got caught in a loop.

The shit got stained
in the exact same spot

over and over

until it finally rotted
from the inside out!

(gasping)

They tore down our homes

so they could move back in.

We need Candyman,

'cause this time, he'll be
killing their fathers,

their babies, their sisters.

I knew it was
only a matter of time

before the baby came back here

in perfect symmetry.

A chance for Candyman to take
back what's rightfully his.

- (Brianna whimpering)
- WILLIAM: His legend.

Hand.

(quietly):
Wait...

BRIANNA:
No, no, no, no!

(gasping)

(screams):
Anthony!

(sobbing)

(Brianna whimpering)

See, you can really make
the story your own.

(grunts)
But some of the specifics

should be somewhat consistent.

(grunts)

- (whimpering)
- (slashing, squelching)

- (William grunts)
- (Anthony groans)

(low, muffled groaning)

(William grunting breathlessly)

- (groaning continues)
- (strained grunt)

Here we have the story of,
uh, Anthony McCoy,

artist who lost his mind,

and the cops showed up, and
shot him down in cold blood

without even saying a word.

(William laughs)

Well, say his name, if you dare.

Say it five times in a mirror,
see what happens.

When it's all done,
they'll tell his story,

and Candyman will live...

- (exhales sharply)
- (distant sirens wailing)

...forever.

- (sirens continue wailing)
- (panting)

Here comes the swarm.

Are you ready for the sacrament?

Huh. (grunts)

- (panting)
- (thud)

(Brianna whimpers)

WILLIAM:
Hey!

- Where you goin'?!
- (sirens continue wailing)

Don't you want a sweet?!

- (flesh squelching)
- (pained yell)

(Brianna panting)

(gasps)

BRIANNA (quietly):
Fuck.

- (soft knock)
- (Brianna gasping)

WILLIAM:
Where you goin'?

(Brianna panting)

WILLIAM:
♪ Who can take the sunrise ♪

♪ Sprinkle it with dew? ♪

- (William yells)
- (Brianna screaming)

- (Brianna grunts)
- (William groaning)

(panting)

(pants)

(chuckles softly)

(distant sirens wailing)

This is as good as a place
as any, pet.

- (grunts, groans)
- (clangs)

(William laughing)

(gasps)

(groans)

(grunting)

I think he's dead.

- Brianna.
- (whimpering)

(distant sirens wailing)

(Brianna panting)

BRIANNA:
No, no, no.

Get up, Anthony. Get up.

Baby? Baby? Baby?

Please. No. No.

Anthony, baby.

- (weakly): It's okay.
- Get up, please. Please.

(crying) Please stay with me,
Anthony, please.

- Please, please, please.
- (approaching sirens wailing)

Please get up.

Please get up, Anthony.

- (sirens growing louder)
- Don't go.

Okay, we're gonna get you help.

We're gonna get you
to a hospital, okay, baby?

- (sirens stop)
- We're gonna get you to a hospital.

- In here!
- (door opens)

- We're...
- OFFICER: Put your hands up!

- BRIANNA: He just needs to...
- (gunshots)

(high-pitched ringing)

(muffled, indistinct
radio transmissions)

♪ ♪

(muffled radio transmissions
continue)

(gasping)

(muffled):
Oh, my God.

(whimpering)

(wailing sirens approaching)

(tires screeching)

OFFICER:
Hey. Stay on your feet.

- Come on. Move it.
- LIPEZ: What's going on?

OFFICER 2: We got
two suspects, one's down.

- LIPEZ: Get her in the car.
- OFFICER: Hurry up.

OFFICER 2:
Well, we didn't know what to do.

(gasping)

(indistinct radio transmission)

(officers speaking indistinctly)

(breathing heavily)

(breathing slows)

(Lipez sighs)

It's very unfortunate what
happened to your man in there.

We'd been looking for him.

Got a tip he'd be here.

You know anything about that?

Whatever you tell us, helps.

Any cooperation is noted.

Saying what you saw

when he came at Jones...

...and Jones, obviously knowing
what he'd done before,

seeing his hook,
knowing you were in danger,

had no choice
but to discharge his weapon.

(trembling breath)

Doesn't sound right to you?

(Lipez sighs deeply)

Or...

she's an accomplice.

She held the victims down,
he cut 'em up.

He died comin' at a cop.

She goes to jail
for the rest of her life.

Which story is it?

Can I see myself?

LIPEZ:
What?

BRIANNA:
I-In the mirror.

I'll tell you everything
if you let me see myself.

LIPEZ:
No.

I'll say whatever you want.

(Lipez sighs deeply)

(weakly):
Candyman.

(breathes shakily)

(softly):
Candyman.

LIPEZ (scoffs):
What?

Candyman.

LIPEZ:
What the fuck is that?

(laughs):
Candyman.

LIPEZ:
Candyman?

♪ ♪

- (clicks) - What the fuck?
- OFFICER: Holy shit.

LIPEZ:
Rooney? Jesus. What the fuck?

OFFICER 2: 10-1, emergency.
Officer down. Officer down.

OFFICER:
What the fuck?

- Get on the ground now! Now!
- (gunshots)

(gunfire continues)

LIPEZ:
What the fuck?!

- Let me in.
- (banging on window)

- I said, let me in, damn it!
- LIPEZ: I can't open the door.

- It won't.
- Help.

LIPEZ:
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

(yells)

LIPEZ?
Holy shit.

LIPEZ (quietly):
What the fuck.

(bees buzzing)

(breathlessly):
Who are you?

ANTHONY:
I am the writing on the walls.

(bees buzzing loudly)

I am the sweet smell
of blood on the street.

The buzz that echoes
in the alleyways.

They will say

- I shed innocent blood.
- (softly): Anthony.

ANTHONY:
You are far from innocent,

but they will say you were.

- That's all that matters.
- (bees buzzing loudly)

(clicks)

(exhales sharply)

(breathing heavily)

(door opens)

(door closes)

♪ ♪

(indistinct radio transmission)

(Lipez groaning)

(Lipez yelling)

(gasping, choking)

(grunting, gasping)

(bees buzzing)

- (cries out)
- (bees buzzing)

(whimpers softly)

(bees buzzing loudly)

(sirens wailing)

(loud buzzing continues)

(sirens wailing)

(buzzing)

Tell...

everyone.

- (sirens wailing)
- (tires screeching)

(buzzing continues)

- (tires screeching)
- (siren wails)

♪ ♪

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull

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(music fades)