Kasi Lemmons

  • Harriet (2019)

    Harriet (2019)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) Considering the newly resurgent place of black cinema in Hollywood, this biographical drama about escaped-slave-turned-freedom-fighter Harriet Tubman was inevitable. In the hands of writer-director Kasi Lemmons (whom I’ll always remember fondly as one of the headliners from Fear of a Black Hat), Tubman becomes a Hollywoodian avenging angel in Harriet, quick with a gun and about two rewrites away from steampunk superhero status. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, considering how there’s usually nothing fun about watching a film detailing how Tubman joined the Underground Railroad and started freeing other slaves. This isn’t quite a dry history lesson, though: While reverent and historically credible, it also features high moments of drama, gunplay and confrontations. Cynthia Erivo is quite good as Tubman, growing into a formidable, almost mystical force by the end of the film. Terrific soundtrack made of old-school hymn (and, incongruously, a Nina Simone song) helps round out a high-quality production that tells an essential story in adequate fashion. Could it have been better, more historically accurate, more action-driven? Yes to all of that, but maybe not in the same movie. As it stands, Harriet navigates a tricky path between being faithful to Tubman’s character, pleasing modern audiences, and fitting everything within two hours.

  • Candyman (1992)

    Candyman (1992)

    (In French, On Cable TV, February 2019) I remember some of the marketing for Candyman back in 1992, but for some reason had almost forgotten about the film until now. I’m almost glad I did, because it allowed me to discover something that, under the garbs of a horror movie, is quite a bit more than a standard supernatural slasher. In addition to a villain that almost qualifies as original, Candyman does delve quite a bit into themes of urban decay, social injustice and black mythology as presented through urban legends. From a gripping opening, the film develops a specific visual style made of overhead shots of Chicago slums, bee imagery and askew camera angles. When combined with the fantastic screen presence of Tony Todd as the titular boogeyman and a rather good turn by a young Virginia Madsen (plus Kasi Lemmons in a supporting role), Candyman is significantly more interesting than most horror films of the early 1990s. Unusual plot developments keep our attention, and the well-executed sense of alienation of a white woman plunged into urban black myth leads to an effective descent into hell. Writer/director Bernard Rose cleverly adapts a Clive Barker story to an American setting, throws narrative curveballs and manages an effective atmosphere of dread making judicious use of its slum setting. It’s a much better film than you’d expect from its era. My biggest (minor) qualms are not the film’s fault—I happen to think that 1990s Virginia Madsen doesn’t look as good as 2010s Madsen, and catching the film in French deprived me of Todd’s distinctive voice. All the better reasons to rewatch the film again at some point. Considering the renewed interest in black-themed horror with social relevance, Candyman seems almost perfectly placed for a remake and whaddaya know—one is being planned right now.

  • Vampire’s Kiss (1988)

    Vampire’s Kiss (1988)

    (On DVD, May 2008) Nicolas Cage is rarely dull even when he’s not very good, and Vampire’s Kiss is one of the first citations on the list of his oddball projects. While everything about the film suggests a supernatural connection between a man and the vampire seductress who bit him, the reality of the film is far more fascinating, portraying an unrepentant womanizer sinking deeper and deeper in madness after convincing himself he’s turning in a vampire. While it does have a number of darkly humorous moments, it’s one death too far to be a funny film. It’s not an entirely successful one either, as Cage overacts with a grossly annoying British accent in the middle of a script that’s not quite focused enough. Still, some of the scenes are showpieces (yes, this is the film in which Cage eats a live cockroach) and the unusual re-use of vampire mythology is enough to earn this film a dark little place in any horror fan’s heart. Special note much be made of the splendidly multicultural female casting in this film, from an early role for director Kasi Lemmons to Jennifer Beals (as the vampire) and Maria Conchita Alonso as Cage’s terrified office assistant. Plenty of subtle and not-so-subtle details hint at the film’s thematic ambitions, which may warrant a second viewing for viewers mystified by the entire experience. The DVD, fortunately, contains an enlightening commentary by Cage and the film’s director.