Television writer. Movie lover. Dog haver.
Your mileage will vary depending on your interest in the band. Lotta starry talk toward the end about artists and energies and supernovas to explain why TVU only lasted the short time it did. To that I would add egos and drugs and youth, and Lou Reed.
None of which is to take away from the music they made — I’ve always had time for the Velvet Underground — just that the hagiography surrounding Warhol and the factory and the band obscures what is, ultimately, not that interesting a story.
Notwithstanding a bit of talky exposition near the top — at a dinner of very serious and obviously well paid academics whose sole subject of expertise appears to be campfire stories — it’s easy to lose track of what exactly the fuck it is that’s going on in Candyman.
While all is ultimately revealed about Candyman and Helen’s linked histories, we know next to nothing about Virginia Madsen’s character going in. Her flaws, her fears, her own original sin, whatever…
Despite being nearly undone by a dumb vigilante mob plot and coming perilously close to “Rise of Skywalker” levels of fan service, I have an awful lot of affection for this series and am, if you can believe it, even older than it is, so let’s focus on the positive:
I actually loved the 1978 retconned prologue and admired the attention to detail in achieving its look, right down to the lenses used and the old-fashioned optical titles. That stuff…