Never Judge A Film By Its Cover...Or Its Title
Under the list of films with cheddar-cheesy titles is The Devil’s Candy. I know what you’re thinking. I thought the same. No self-respecting filmmaker settles on a title like The Devil’s Candy. It gives way to visions of hair bands and barely legal 90s soft porn. It doesn’t instill the most confidence in a prospective viewer, and it certainly doesn’t scream well-crafted horror. But the judgement stops at the title…and maybe the less than stellar computer-generated flames.
The Devil’s Candy, written and directed by Sean Byrne, was released in March of 2017, and yours truly was quick to view it. Not that I’d planned it that way. Like so many small films, we’re almost never aware of their existence until they’ve been birthed into the world. More often than not, they aren’t commercially released, and their straight-to-video trajectory isn’t met with much fanfare, if any at all. As is so often the case, I stumbled upon this little gem while searching for something unprocessed. The Devil’s Candy might not be as indie as they come, having been distributed by IFC Midnight, and with names we’ve kind of/sort of heard of, but it’s still an indie film, with homegrown roots, untainted by Hollywood. Unprocessed is definitely what I got.
This little nugget has a short runtime of 80 minutes, which feels more like 60 minutes. A film of this length is a risky move for any filmmaker. You’ve got to be incredibly precise with both your storytelling and pacing in order to fully flesh out an 80-minute film and tell a cohesive story that’s satisfying to the viewer. Sean Byrne used his time exceedingly well, filling every minute of runtime to its fullest. His only wrongdoing was leaving us wanting more.
Let’s start with the story. As always, if you want a full summary, go read the synopsis, or watch the trailer. Then bring your cookies back here. But the story is simple enough. A disturbed man wreaks havoc on an unsuspecting family. Nothing too original there. It’s been done a hundred times and in a hundred different ways. However, it’s the job of the filmmaker to teach an old dog new tricks and breathe life into worn ideas. Sean Byrne accomplished this in multiple ways. From superb acting, to artfully placed music, to the use of actual art, he conjured original content from a plot as old as time.
The film has an art house feel, only a bit gritty and raw. The term “art house” comes with a certain connotation. Films that fall under this category often feel unapproachable to the average viewer. There’s sometimes a hint of snobbery and pretension that leaves a bad taste behind. “General boobery,” is how I refer to it. But I’ll admit to often enjoying art house films—boobery or no boobery. Then again, I adore Elvira Mistress of the Dark—have since its release in 1988. Clearly, I can slum with the best of them.
The Devil’s Candy does something super rad. It takes that arthouse feel and flips it on its head. The film’s thoughtful, yet advertently reckless. It takes the time to deliver creatively composed scenes full of grime and sweat, but with an undercurrent of beauty that sits juxtaposed to the film’s general tone. Be it your taste or not, the music also plays a unique role throughout, lending to a rather grand climactic scene that could’ve failed to deliver, had it not been as well-crafted as it was. The cinematography is uniquely vibrant, the personality of the movie wonderfully untamed without being gratuitously violent or cliché. But this film isn’t just about aesthetics.
The Devil’s Candy is no slouch in the storytelling department. While simple, the story is told with an unassuming quality that sneaks up on the viewer, packing more punch than expected. They’ll be no shortage of sweaty palms and tapping toes. This film is fraught with tension. Each high-octane scene unravels with skill and precision that serves to elongate the viewer’s anxiety. It’s a powerhouse of a movie that delivers on all fronts despite its runtime.
No review for this film would be complete without mention of our three main characters, played by Ethan Embry, Pruitt Taylor Vince, and Kiara Glasco. Pruitt Taylor Vince played the part of our villain with an unassuming skill and a genuine eeriness that brought believability to a complex role, expressing both the character’s naivety and pure evil. If he set out to leave the viewer uneasy, he accomplished his goal entirely.
Ethan Embry was impressive as hell. He’s played loads of smaller parts over the course of his career, many of which allowed little room to flex his creative muscle, which is a damn shame. Admittedly, I’ve not seen his entire body of work, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this were his best acting to date. He kicks tremendous ass in this film, and like his co-star, he brings authenticity to a role that easily could’ve been over-acted. His appearance, vulnerability, and dedication served this film incredibly well.
Last, but certainly not least, is Kiara Glasco. While released on video in 2017, The Devil’s Candy premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2015, which would’ve made Kiara Glasco 13 or 14 years old during filming. Despite her young age, the kid knocked her role out of the park. With mastery usually reserved for far more experienced actors, she took command of her role, and in doing so she shined throughout the film. Often, child actors make suspension of disbelief impossible for viewers. Whether it be the delivery of stiff lines, over-exaggeration of expression, or a general inability to convey the character’s plight, young actors are often wholly ill-prepared for the task. On the contrary, Kiara Glasco allowed for complete immersion. Her disappointment was ours, her excitement was ours, and her fear was ours. She’s an impressive talent, with great range and strength.
It’s films like The Devil’s Candy that leave viewers in a state of general disquiet. Horror often provides us a hero, a villain, and a route to catharsis, via our victor’s triumph over evil. It’s an anxiety-inducing dance that leaves us grateful for the monotony of everyday life. On the other hand, some films remind us that real monsters don’t always conceal themselves behind masks, nor do they only lurk in the shadows. Sometimes, real monsters hide behind smiles and use acts of kindness to conceal their true intent. They certainly don’t always lurk in shadows, and too often they walk among those we love most.
While far too short, The Devil’s Candy came with purpose and delivered more than expected. It’s one kickass film, filled with plenty of talent and surprising substance. If you’ve got 80 short minutes to spare, dive in.
Till next time, keep watching.
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