Candyman: Day of the Dead (1999) - full transcript

Daniel Robitaille was
my great-great-grandfather.

He was the son of a slave

who fell in love
with a white woman.

When they were found out,

a mob dragged him into a field

and sawed off his right hand.

They took honeycomb
from a beehive

and covered his body in honey.

A swarm of bees
attacked and killed him.

That is one
messed-up way to die.

They say he came back
from the dead,



his hand replaced
by a bloody hook.

You call his name five times
into a mirror and he appears.

And when he comes,

he'll be the last thing
you ever see.

They call him
the "Candyman."

Come on.

You called his name five times
and nothing happened, right?

I've never done it.

No shit.

Okay.

Come on.

What are you doing?

I guess I'll just have
to prove this to you.

Five times, right?



No. No, no, no.
Don't do this.

It's for your own good.

All right.

Candyman.

All right.

Candyman.

Okay, I get your point.

Candyman.

Candyman.

You're right.

- He doesn't exist.
- Right.

- It's just a story.
- Yes.

That's what I've been
trying to tell you.

Now, get your little ass
over to the gallery

and get the show over with.

Gosh, I'm late for my audition.

Señora! Señora!

No habla español.

Candy! Candy! Candy!

They're for the Day of the Dead.

A dollar!

Oh! No, thank you.
No, I couldn't.

Go ahead.
A gift from me to you.

Okay. Thank you.

On the Day of the Dead,

it reminds us
that death is sweet.

Personally,

I'd like to take
a bite out of death.

Feliz Día de los Muertos.

Sweets to the sweet.

Shit.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah.

The whole urban myth
was based on this bad boy,

and I got his paintings.

Ha ha! That's right, homes.
It's authenticated.

Hold on one second.

Guys, that's leaning
to the left.

Yeah. Yeah.
Jeffrey, listen.

I'm talking a killer
show, all right?

Now you're a fucking art critic.

You're not gonna see
anything like this.

Yeah, you'll have an exclusive.

Just get your ass
down here, okay?

- You asshole.
- Hold on one second.

You held out on me, ruca.

You didn't tell me
this was the Candyman.

This is the reason
I didn't tell you.

Mickey, you can't do this.

Jeffrey? Jeffrey?

Can I call you back
in about 10 minutes?

All right. Peace.

- Now, baby...
- No.

Daniel Robitaille was an artist,

not some monster with a hook.

This is unfair.
It's bullshit.

Okay. All right.
Take a breath, please.

I want people to know
Daniel Robitaille the man,

not some twisted urban myth.

Yeah, I hear you, baby.

Guys, lift up
the left side, please?

- Mickey!
- What?

You turned this show into
exactly what I didn't want.

It's just an angle, baby.

I'll pull the paintings, Mickey.

I own them.

All right, look, let's chill.

Now, I agreed
to show the paintings,

but I did it to promote
my gallery.

Now, these pieces, they're good.

They're fucking great,
but I need an angle.

I mean, come on!

Saturday's the Day
of the Dead. It's synergy.

You cannot buy
promotion like this.

I make a name for the gallery,

and you get a lot more people

to hear your side
of the story, right?

Right?

Relax.

I'll honor the dead.

Man, that's not straight.

Hold on one second.

Left side, pendejos.
Left side.

- Miguel?
- Yeah, babe.

There's a guy here to see you.

Aw, shit.

What? Who are they?

Cops.

Kraft. Sacco.

So...

looks like you're having
another opening night tonight.

Everything up to code?

Got all your licenses in place?

Yeah.

All the paperwork's in back.

But I'm sure you guys will find
some way to bust my balls.

You always do.

Yeah.

Your kind's always
up to something.

Is that all?
'Cause I'm busy.

Yeah.

Get back to your business...
"Mig-well."

Catch you later.

Miss.

L.A.'s finest
assholes.

So, it was nice to see you.

Good to see you.

It has been a long time.

Well, you know,
busy at the office.

You okay?

I don't know if this show
was a good idea.

It's not going the way I wanted.

Ow!

What's blood for...

if not for shedding?

Ohh.

Excuse me.

So...

Who was Daniel Robitaille?

And why did he become
the Candyman?

It all began when
a Confederate Army colonel

hired the young black artist

to paint the portrait
of his only daughter,

Caroline.

They fell in love.

And it was love as forbidden
as it was passionate.

When they were discovered,

the Colonel gathered
an angry mob

and chased him down
like an animal.

They tied him to a tree

where his body
was ravaged by bees.

Uhh!

Aah!

Candyman!

Candyman! Candyman!

Aah!

Candyman!

By the time the mob
chanted his name

for the fifth and final time,

Daniel Robitaille was dead.

Stories of the Candyman

spread throughout the black
population of the South.

They said the hate that had
killed the young artist

had created something evil.

Hate generates hate.

Evil breeds evil.

This man couldn't
lash out in life.

But in death, that... that hate,

that evil was strong enough
to bring him back,

to reclaim what was taken away.

Do any of you dare
call his name?

Do you?

Daniel Robitaille
was just a man.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Daniel Robitaille's
great-great-granddaughter

Caroline McKeever.
Give her a hand.

I think it's sad that
this wonderful artist's memory

is overshadowed
by all those stories.

It's not who
Daniel Robitaille was.

The soul of a good man is
reflected in these paintings.

That is what's real.

He should be remembered
for what he left behind:

His art,

not the terrible myth

that has haunted
my family for years.

But...

what about the Candyman?

Huh?

How can you deny the stories?

I don't believe in him
or the story.

Prove it.

Call his name five
times in the mirror.

No, I'm not gonna
play this game.

Why not? You afraid
he might appear?

No.

But in the back of your mind,

you still have some
doubt, don't you?

Well?

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

See? Nothing.

Do not tempt
the powers of darkness!

For the hour of death
is at hand!

Get him out of here!

He will come for you!

He will come for you!

I said get him out!

He will come for you!

He will come for you!

He will come for you!

Hey.

I'm sorry.

I guess things got
a little carried away.

I'll be fine.

Cool.

Miguel?
Are we out of here or what?

Yeah, baby, I'll be there
in one second.

New friend?

Lina... something.
She's a model.

You're pathetic.

I know. I know.
I know.

Do me a favor and put
this on my desk, all right?

I'm gonna go close this deal.

All right.

Oh, my God.
Mickey.

Mickey?

Mickey!

And the award for best actor
goes to David de la Paz

as the Candyman freak.

I'm sorry if I scared you.

I got carried away
with the part.

You're an actor?

A very well-paid actor.

Nice doing business with you.

I'll take that.

Are you okay?

You are so fucked.

Yeah, I know.

But you have to admit
it was cool, right?

We had that Melrose crowd
shitting in their pants.

- I'm out of here!
- Hey! Come on!

Come on, Caroline.
We were just having fun.

Don't you need a ride home?

I'll get home myself.

Ay, caramba.

She's cute, man.

Uhh!

Better watch where
you're walking.

It's dark in here.

Caroline.

Caroline.

You doubted me.

And yet you call my name.

Who are you?

Your past.

Your present.

Your future.

Your blood.

What do you want?

I...

came... for you.

Believe in me.

Mickey?

Mickey, it's Caroline.

Mickey?

Mmm.

Mmm.

Miguel?

It's Caroline!

Mickey, are you here?

Come here, my little bumblebee.

Miguel?

Miguel?

What the fuck?

What the fuck's going on?

What the fuck's going on?

Oh, puta madre!

Aah! Aah!

Oh, fuck!

Oh, fuck!

Help me.

Miss McKeever, I'm
Detective Jamal Matthews.

This is Detective Jamie Gold.

Hi.

Miss McKeever?

I already told them everything.

I just want to go home.

Miss McKeever,

why don't we go out
and get some air?

We need to talk.

I already told them everything.

Look, I know, but I still
have some questions.

Maybe we can get
a cup of coffee.

I don't want any coffee.

Beaner was doing pretty good
for himself.

Tell me about it.

Then he goes and gets
himself killed.

Ay, caramba.

We got it from here, Jamal.

Why don't you
and the boot take a hike?

Hey, look, we're taking
care of this, all right?

We investigated
a robbery this morning

involving the victim.

We got primary.

Like you said, Jamal,

why don't you go
shoot some hoops?

What the hell did you say to me?

Come on, it's not worth it.

That's right, sweetheart,
it isn't.

Caroline McKeever?

I'm Detective Samuel Kraft.

We met at the gallery yesterday.

I'm sorry, Caroline.

I have some questions regarding

what you told the first
officer on-site.

Uh, you said
that a male Hispanic,

David de la Paz,

was the last person you saw
with Miguel and the girl.

You said that he was carrying
a weapon of some sort.

It was a prop.

A meat hook.

He was an actor.

I have witnesses that say this
guy went ballistic at the show.

It was an act.
He was an actor.

Tell me about...

the Candyman.

The Candyman?

We just came from
Miguel's gallery.

The place had been broken into.

All the paintings were stolen.

Stolen?

We think the robbery and
the murders are connected.

Someone obsessed
with this killer,

this Candyman.

There's no such thing
as the Candyman.

You won't be alone?

My roommate's upstairs.

Here's my home number.

If you can think
of anything else,

just give me a call,
anytime, day or night.

Hey...

we used to give
Miguel a hard time,

but underneath it all,
we really liked him.

I'm sorry about what happened.

Thanks.

"Underneath it all,
we liked him"?

What's that crock of shit?

Oh, you're trying to get
in her pants, aren't you?

Let's go.

Next you'll be showing up
on her doorstep

with a dozen roses.

She's a witness.

She's a piece of ass
is what she is.

Aah!

Shit.

Caroline.

Oh, my God!

Tamera!

Who are you?

Tamara!

Just get away from me!

Oh, my God!
What do you want?

Just tell me... what do you want?

Oh, my God! No!
Don't kill me!

Oh, my God!
Please don't kill me!

Don't! Oh, please!

- Tamara!
- Don't kill me!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

Oh-hh, my God!

No!

I got the part!

It's a horror movie.

Are you okay?

Mama?

Mama?

My God!

Help me!

Help me!

Aah!

I'm shooting the scene
in Burbank,

and I left the production
office number on the fridge.

They're gonna find out
who did this, okay?

It was him.

I called his name, and he came.

My mother knew it.

The night she died,

she called his name.

You must destroy the myth.

As long as people believe,

as long as they...

call his name...

...he will always
come back.

It's okay, Mom.

It's okay.

Two hours later, she was dead.

Caroline, I want you
to stop this.

Your mother committed suicide.

I don't know anymore.

Caroline.

I saw him kill Mickey.

No, no, you found
their dead bodies.

You couldn't deal with it, so
your mind made up the rest.

Some nutjob obsessed
with the Candyman

killed Miguel and that girl,

and the police are gonna
find out who did it,

and it's not gonna be some guy
with a hook for a hand.

I'm sorry.

Do you want me to stay?

You page me if you need me.

What the hell
did you tell the cops?

They've been playing
"good cop, bad cop"

on my ass all afternoon.

Turned my shit inside out.

I'm sorry, but I just
told them the truth,

that Miguel hired you
as an actor.

Right. An actor,
not a killer.

I've known Miguel for years.

Miguel and I went to the same
school since we were little.

I loved Miguel.
I wouldn't kill him.

I wouldn't kill anybody!

Then you have nothing
to worry about.

Look, Miguel and Lina
were killed with a hook.

If it's the same hook I had
in the gallery last night,

it's got my fingerprints on it!

I'm screwed.

Don't worry.
I told them the truth.

What fucking planet
do you live on?

Do you know what they say
about this cop Kraft?

He's been investigated five
times for police brutality.

He likes to close a case no
matter who he pins it on.

And in his mind, I'm
just another wetback.

And if he can pin it on
me, it's Miller time.

He's closed the case, he
goes home to Simi Valley,

and I'm up in Chino doing life!

Look, I'm innocent.

I didn't do this.

I know.
I'm sorry.

Hell, if they had
done their fucking job,

they'd have known it wasn't me.

Word on the street is a gang

broke into the gallery
and stole the paintings.

They probably killed
Miguel and the girl.

A gang? What gang?

I don't know yet.

Well, why didn't somebody
tell the cops?

The gallery's in Boyle Heights.

If you live in East L.A.,
you don't go out of your way

to be friendly with cops.

Well, we have to find 'em.

Find who?

We have to find that gang.

What the hell
are you talking about?

If we can find them
and prove that they did it,

no one else could have.

Not you. Not anybody.

Hey, Sac, have we found
the murder weapon yet?

No, still looking.

Hey, you know that
Caroline McKeever?

Do a background check.
See what you can find out.

What's wrong, Sam?
She didn't like the roses?

You go to hell.
Just check her out.

Listen, we're looking
for some cholos

that were hanging out
near Miguel's gallery.

If you need to find
somebody, talk to Tino.

- Tino?
- Yeah.

But tell him you're my cousin,

'cause he don't like
talking to strangers.

Cool.
Okay, later.

- Thanks.
- You're welcome.

What's the matter?

It's him.

No. Miguel hired some
taggers to paint it

to promote the show.

A few years ago,
they found a little girl.

She was murdered there.

People in the neighborhood,

they believe
it's a place of evil.

That's why Miguel chose it.
It's not the Candyman.

Un momento, lindo.

I think she likes you.

I've seen that guy before.

Everybody in Boyle Heights
knows Tino,

and Tino knows everybody.

Muchacho.

Hey, just hang, okay?

¿Flores?
Flores para los muertos.

No.

Para el Día de los Muertos.

Flowers for the dead.

Excuse me.

I've shown you death.

Yet still you doubt me.

In death lies your destiny.

Mom?

Aah!

Aah!

Shh.

Caroline.

Our story shall be one.

One destiny.

One family.

One blood.

No.

No.

Hey.

Easy. Are you okay?

That's everything.

I thought I could convince
myself that he didn't exist,

but he does.

He's haunted my family
for years.

And now he's come for me.

Hey.

Come on. There's somebody
I want you to meet.

Bueno.

Where are we going?

You'll see.

What's going on?

Papi!

You're supposed
to be in bed, huh?

That lady was crying real good.

Shh. I told you never
to listen in.

But it's so much fun.
Hi.

This is my daughter Cristina.

Hi.

- Okay. Bye.
- Bye.

She's beautiful, David.

Thanks.

She's all I have
since her mother died.

David.

Abuela. ¿Cómo estás?

This is my grandmother.

Abuela, esta es Carolina.

Hi.

Hmm.

My grandmother's a curandera.

She's a healer.

You know, people
in the neighborhood,

they come to her when they
have problems with the spirit.

She can heal you.
She can help you.

You know, I don't think...

Come on.

Come close.

Something haunts you.

Mm.

You don't want to face the evil.

And nobody escapes evil.

You have to face it.

Stand up.

Speak the name of this evil.

Do as she says.

Say this name.

Candyman.

Mm.

Evil cannot exist without good.

Without one,
the other cannot exist.

Excuse me.
I'll be right back.

Easy, easy...

Hello?

Hey. Okay.
Sure, Tino. Thanks

I'm scared of the Candyman, too.

I heard about him at school.

They say if you call him
five times,

he'll come and get you.

Hey.

Cristina, what did I say, huh?

Huh? Go to bed.

I appreciate
you bringing me here,

but it didn't help.

I don't know
if anything can help.

- What are you doing, vato?
- Hey, man, get off me!

Let him go!

You like hanging out
with this Latin lover

because he's dangerous?

Remember what he did to Miguel.

I didn't do anything to Miguel!

Let him go!

You don't know what you're
getting into, little girl.

You don't know these people.

I've been a cop 14 years.
I know.

Hey, man, you got something
on me, then arrest me.

Otherwise get the fuck
out of here!

I'm watching you, vato.

You make me sick.

What the fuck
are you looking at?

- Are you okay?
- Yeah.

Now you know why we don't get
friendly with the cops around here.

Come on.

Surrender to me.

Witness my madness.

In death you will become legend.

Stories of your death

will be used
to frighten children.

Lovers will
hold each other tight

at the mere mention
of our names.

Be my victim.

Hey, look, I know you're
going through a tough time,

but tomorrow, I'll come
pick you up first thing.

We're gonna find these guys,
and you'll be able to rest.

We both will.
I'll see you.

- David?
- Yeah?

Could you stay a while?

Um, my roommate's still not in,

and I don't want to be alone.

Sure.

I see you've done these before.

Well, a few more of these

and all your troubles will
be set aside for tonight.

Give me your hand.

No, no, no,
I'm not drinking alone.

Your turn.

Ooh! Chihuahua!

What exactly is
the Day of the Dead?

It's a day to honor the
loved ones that have died.

You go to the cemetery,

and you have lunch with them.

Get out of here.

I'm serious.

You go have a picnic at the
grave of those you've lost

to celebrate death
as a part of living.

I couldn't bring myself
to visit my mother's grave.

It was just too difficult.

It reminds me
that I'm all alone.

And your father?

Died before I was born.

And you got no brothers,
no sisters, no family?

I'm the last one.

I'm all alone.

No, you're not.

You won't know true ecstasy

until you have tasted death.

David...?

Mmm... no.

Another daughter
will be orphaned

unless you surrender to me.

Where is he?

If he is to live,

you must come to me.

Accept your destiny.

Accept your fate.

Be...

my...

victim.

Aah!

It's okay. You were just
having a bad dream.

It was just a dream.

- David!
- Who's David? You're home.

No, he was here.
He was here with me.

No, honey, nobody else is here.

The Candyman has him.

Caroline, quit it.

No, you don't understand.

The Candyman has him!

Cut it out!
You've been drinking.

He told me so!

That's it.
I'm getting you some help.

- I'm not crazy!
- I didn't say you were crazy,

but you need to talk
to somebody.

You just need some help.

It was the Candyman!
He's real!

The Candyman does not exist.

You said so yourself.

I was wrong.

Here.
David couldn't have left.

These are the keys
to his... Tamara!

What?

No.

Aah.

Aah!

Aah!

Surrender.

There is no reason...

...to live.

God.

Oh, God!

One last chance.

Where's de la Paz?

I told you.

It was the Candyman.

Hey!

Sam.

Head down. Move to
the center of the car.

Just relax, Sam.

Jesus.
Get a sense of humor.

Where are you taking me?

Los Angeles Police Station,

Boyle Heights Division.

I didn't kill her.

I know.

It was, uh, your uncle.

No, no, no, no, no,
your grandfather.

Or maybe it was, uh,
your mother.

Annie Tarrant?
That's right.

We did a little
background check on you.

New Orleans P.D.
was very cooperative.

Seems your whole family was
obsessed with the Candyman.

They'd be real proud of you.

It was him! He is real!

Oh! Oh! Oh, shit!

- What?
- The Candyman!

Are you okay?

Help me, someone!

Help me, someone!

They won't believe you.

Oh, God.

Aah!

What? I ain't
done nothing.

I cannot oblige you to die.

You alone must decide your fate.

But surrender to me

and talk of your death

will live on the lips
of the faithful...

forever.

My congregation will whisper
your name in reverence.

Thoughts of you will
stir fear in their hearts.

Your memory shall be immortal.

My altar awaits your sacrifice.

You must come to me.

I will grant his life

for yours.

La migra!

La migra!

No, I'm not Immigration!

It's Caroline!

Open up!

Abuela, please!

David's in trouble!
Abuela!

Please!

Can I use your bathroom, please?

Pasa.

Aah!

Oh, my God.

Cristina.

Our Father, Who art in heaven...

...hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done...

Abuela?
Excuse me.

I'm sorry.
I need your help.

Evil cannot exist

without good.

You must destroy the good.

Without the good,

the evil will die.

There will be nothing left.

The good?
I don't understand, Abuela.

You must find the good.

What is his good?

The paintings.

You guys, check de
la Paz's apartment.

Let's go!
Let's move it!

It's Tino.
He's looking for Papi.

Who is this?

It's Caroline. I was
with David last night.

Yeah? Well, look,

you know that gang
you were looking for?

It's not what you think.

I got one of them here.
You want him?

Yeah.

Tino, don't let him go anywhere.

He ain't going nowhere.

He wants to talk to you.

Okay.

Where's my papi?

Don't let the Candyman
take him away.

Oh, Cristina, I won't.

Don't worry.

La migra! La migra!

La migra! La migra!

Open up!
Police.

Cristina, I need
another way out of here.

I know.
The back door.

Come on!
Open up!

We'll break the door down.
Open the door.

I just saw the coroner's
pictures on that guy Sacco.

Somehow, this chick
gets out of the cuffs

and rips a guy
twice her size to shreds.

Gives a whole new
meaning to PMS.

That's it.
Do your own damn job!

Go find her!

Spread out and find her!

Shit!

Uhh!

Aah!

Caroline!

Give yourself to me!

Just like your mother did.

It's okay, honey.

I'm here.

Move! Get out of my way!
Move it!

Come on! Move it out!

Move out!
Get out of my way!

Move it!

Move!

Turn around!

Put your hands on your head!

Where is she?

Where the fuck is she?

Huh? Show me
where she is!

Back off, Kraft!

Get away from me, boy.

Shit.

Nice shot.

Get his drunk, racist ass
the fuck out of here now!

Get him out of here.
Get him out of here.

All right, spread out!

I want her found, now!

Tino, the skinny hueraagain.

Is this the chick?

Yeah.

Where are the paintings?

I'll take you to them.

Don't you fucking worry.

I'll take you to them right now.

Some sick shit's been
happening, you know?

I'll take you there right now.

You can take 'em the fuck away!

Hey, huerita.

You be careful, eh?

Right here.

They're all there,
and they're all yours.

Take 'em.

Glad you could make it.

Look, there's Papi.

You said you wouldn't let
the Candyman take my papi.

No.

Somebody's awake!

I got you!

Fooled you, didn't I?

You and that fat Mexican fuck!

You didn't know, did you?

None of you did.

I brought you here...

to him!

Him!

Tonight, we honor him.

It's the Day of the Dead.

We had an epiphany
at the gallery.

His myth called to us.

A reflection of the evil
that created him.

He came back to shed
innocent blood.

What's blood for...

If not for shedding?

Poetry.

We...

are his new congregation.

Believers of his myth.

We will keep the myth alive...

...so others will believe.

We are the faithful.

You're responsible
for bringing him to us.

If it wasn't for his art,

we would never
have known his pain.

Called his name.

No!

Do you dare call his name?

No!

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

No! No!

Candyman.

He's here.

Candyman.

Believe.

Aah!

Come to me.

His life for yours.

Aah!

Be...
my victim.

You took them.

You took them!

You took everything from me!

My family!

My mother!

I hope you burn in hell!

Take my shield
for one little fuck-up.

One little fuck-up!

Well, I'll fucking show 'em.

I'll show those
fucking assholes.

David?

David!

It's okay.

Shh, shh.
I'm here.

What's he done to you?

David! I need your help.
I need your help.

Caroline.

Your life for his.

You cannot fight it, Caroline.

Caroline.

See what they have
taken from me.

Feel my pain.

Argh!

Uh-hh.

Be... my... victim.

Come to me.

Do not fear pain.

It will be but momentary.

In death, there will be release.

Peace.

Our legends will be
forever remembered.

Written on the walls.

Immortality...

shall be yours.

The last of my descendants...

will finally be with me.

At last,

I will have what was
taken from me

so many, many years ago.

My dignity.

My destiny.

My blood.

Behold...

your end.

No!

Caroline.

Caroline.

Do not forsake me.

Caroline.

Caroline.

Do not betray me!

Aah!

Caroline!

Caroline!

Don't move.

I'm gonna get some help.

Where am I?

You're gonna be okay.

Everything's gonna be okay.

Look at you.

You disgust me.

Making nice to the wetback

after you cut him up.

You don't understand.

Oh, I understand.

I understand you're
a twisted little bitch.

You don't understand.

I'm gonna split you open
from groin to gullet.

Don't do this.
It was the Candyman.

I'm the Candyman.

Miss McKeever.
Miss McKeever, you okay?

Just relax.

Candyman.

You must destroy the myth.

Kraft was the Candyman.

It was him.

After an exhaustive, year-long
internal investigation,

the department has
come to the conclusion

that Lieutenant Detective
Samuel Deacon Kraft,

an officer with a long history of
psychiatric and disciplinary problems,

was solely responsible
for the serial homicides

now dubbed
the "Candyman Murders."

They all blame
someone else for your crimes.

I destroyed you,

your good and your evil.

There's nothing left.

There's no proof
of your existence.

I destroyed the myth.

No one will ever
call your name again.

There's no such thing
as the Candyman.