Candyman

The phrase “say his name” has taken on a completely new relevance in the three decades since Candyman paraphrased it as a slasher-movie tagline. That coincidence isn’t lost on Jordan Peele and Nia DaCosta.

Infusing the 1992 film with a fresh sociocultural perspective, the duo has crafted a stylish and subversive reimagining with some amusing tweaks to genre tropes. DaCosta’s new Candyman is as much a reboot as a sequel, and it functions effectively either way.

This flawed but fascinating effort updates Clive Barker’s original short story and layers it with social commentary about gentrification, racial profiling, and cultural appropriation — with enough atmospheric flair to reinvigorate the franchise, if that even matters.

An evocative attention to visual detail again immerses us in the Chicago neighborhood of Cabrini-Green, which in recent years was transformed from public-housing projects into upscale high-rises and luxury condominiums.

Such redevelopment leaves behind some specters of the past, as realized by Anthony (Yahya Abdul-Mateen), an emerging artist who moves in with his girlfriend (Teyonah Parris) and eventually gains clout in the local gallery scene. “The new apartment is ghost-proof,” he explains ominously. “It was in the Zillow history.”

Things change when Anthony meets an old-timer (Colman Domingo) who relays a haunting story, which he insists is true, about a brutal hook-handed killer who once preyed upon the locals. For those foolish enough to tempt fate, the titular predator could be summoned by repeating his name five times into a mirror, with tragic consequences.

Stuck in a creative rut, Anthony becomes obsessed with the tale and incorporates it into his work. However, that triggers a downward spiral that tests his sanity and threatens to unleash a new reign of terror.

The screenplay by Peele and Win Rosenfeld, along with director DaCosta (Little Woods), playfully explores the persuasive power of urban legends and the fickle nature of artistic appreciation.

More conventional and straightforward in the second half, the film sometimes struggles to balance its high-minded ambitions and symbolism with expectations to pay homage and indulge in gory supernatural staples — lacking the consistent suspense to link the setup to the payoff.

Unsettling rather than truly frightening, Candyman is a provocative exercise in urban horror that’s both thoughtful and thrilling.

Rated R, 91 minutes.