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Arrow Video Frightfest 2022: Candy Land Will Be Sweet for Some, Sour for Others

Image courtesy of Arrow Video FrightFest 2022

When I started Candy Land, I had no idea what to expect. Typically, this is how I enjoy going into most films, knowing as little as possible and bracing myself for the chaos, or lack thereof, that follows. Right away, I was caught off guard. It was not the macabre version of the Hasbro game or a film that would reside alongside its Battleship and Transformers brethren. Opening on a lingering shot of sex between Sadie (Sam Quartin) and a random trucker in his cab, I cringed for a minute, afraid of the grindhouse nightmare I was getting myself into. And that’s what the movie wants, to make you uncomfortable for a moment so you can adjust to the tale it’s telling and not the other way around. I marveled at this gutsy, creative choice, a rarity in films, though Lars von Trier’s Antichrist quickly came to mind. Luckily Candy Land didn’t get nearly that dreary. 

The poster for Candyland shows a woman undressing in a car
Image courtesy of Arrow Video FrightFest 2022

The film itself has to do with truck stop sex workers, lot lizards as they’re referred to in the movie, and exploring the workers’ day-to-day lives, living off of sugary confections and residing in a cheap motel. A low-rent Montana brothel with characters who genuinely enjoy each other’s company. When Sadie, Levi (X’s Owen Campbell), Riley (Eden Brolin), and Liv (Virginia Rand) catch the ire of parking lot preacher Theo (Ozark’s Brad Carter), looking to save souls, causing the group to have a bit of fun at his expense. A day later, Remy (It Follows’ Olivia Luccardi), a member of his flock, arrives outside the truck stop and tells them she’s run away from Theo. At the same time, the group finds one of their Johns murdered inside the rest stop bathroom and soon discovers more bodies filling the lots where they do their job. 

As I previously stated, Candy Land wants to make you uncomfortable. From the deplorable conditions, the group works under, performing oral sex in bathroom stalls where children watch, to the dangerous nature of their business as bodies begin to drop and one of the Lizards is assaulted. The film even has some fun by comparing a bit of menstrual blood to a blood-dripping murder scene and asks you to check yourself if one made you squirm more than the other. Most of the audience will immediately look down their nose at these characters and concepts or perhaps pity them for being this way. That brings into focus another comparison of our own moral superiority against that of Theo and his flock of missionaries. 

Eden Brolin looks into the camera in the door frame of a motel room in Candy Land
Image courtesy of Arrow Video FrightFest 2022

Depending on how you wish to perceive Candy Land denotes the kind of time you’ll have. After a superbly realized ending, viewers will connect things with a better understanding. Along the way, witnessing how close Sadie and her friends are, some may regard this tight-knit group as indoctrinated by their madame Nora (Guinevere Turner), especially after seeing Remy’s interactions with her. From there, an opposing dynamic emerges, and viewers begin considering the methods religions use to assimilate their followers as well, especially the youth. These zealots affirm dominance with reserved viewpoints that only see sin instead of people by instilling Puritanical standards that prey on fears about indecency and depravity in the name of purity and grace. A parallel asserts itself in Candy Land between the infidels and righteous where the religious aren’t as innocent as they claim. The Lot Lizards live unaffected by these standards, openly as who they say they are, while the righteous characters stick to the shadows and speak in masked colloquialisms. 

Writer-director John Swab has built a world of quirky characters (and great dialogue), showing people in various character crisis stages. This includes the local sheriff, Rex (a fantastic William Baldwin), a closeted queer character who protects the sex workers, partially due to his affinity for Levi. Rex rides the line between reserved lawman and processing his feelings for a hesitant Levi, but in treating Levi as a pleasure device, Rex doesn’t always see him as a complete person. In comparison, and as previously stated, the Lot Lizards have accepted who they are. They’re sex-positive and use their bodies naturally, without requiring a spiritual or emotional response in sharing time transactionally. However, they can still be afflicted by trauma and capable of love. After all, they’re still human, even if others see them as different because they don’t bend to societal standards of shame, decorum, or denial like the prudish figures condemning them. The film’s brash philosophy plays more punk rock than most will probably have a taste for, but Swab’s unique character contrast study is captivating.  

Sheriff Rex stands against a pickup truck in Candy Land
Image courtesy of Arrow Video FrightFest 2022

To begin a film assuming it might not be my cup of tea and leaving having loved the experience is incredibly rare. Candy Land is a psycho slasher that asks us to reevaluate the concepts of what denotes good and evil through a surprising barrage of sex and violence. The film reminded me a lot of Yann Gonzalez’s Knife + Heart, which used similar methodologies regarding pornography and queerness through giallo means, as well as Children of Sin, which crafted a religion slasher through a conversion camp setting. Candy Land isn’t as much of a whodunnit, making it pretty clear what’s happening in that regard, though it does share other giallo qualities. 

Candy Land clicked for me when a priest entered a motel room for an encounter with Remy. Maybe it was Mark Ward’s Father Phillip resembling John Waters, lauded as The Pope of Trash while occasionally robed accordingly and someone I’ve long admired. Regardless, the idea developed that this dirty little film made a similar point to Waters’ on religion. From then on, things were knocked up a notch, too, and I found myself grinning as things got maniacal with more bodies dropping and kills producing enough blood to paint an entire room. I know it won’t be for everyone, and there’s plenty of criticism on Letterboxd for it already, but I don’t care. I loved how f*cking nuts this intensely subversive movie got and Swab’s bold willingness to compare morality between sex workers and zealots. 

Candy Land premiered at Arrow Video FrightFest in the UK on 27 August. 

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Written by Sean Parker

Living just outside of Boston, Sean has always been facinated by what horror can tell us about contemporary society. He started writing music reviews for a local newspaper in his twenties and found a love for the art of thematic and symbolic analysis. Sean joined Horror Obsessive at it's inception, and is currently the site's Creative Director. He produces and edits the weekly Horror Obsessive podcast for the site as well as his interviews with guests. He has recently started his foray into feature film production as well, his credits include Alice Maio Mackay's Bad Girl Boogey, Michelle Iannantuono's Livescreamers, and Ricky Glore's upcoming Troma picture, Sweet Meats.

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