Reviews

Candy

3

Before slashing on The Joker’s rictus grin, Heath Ledger returns to Oz for this toxic love story. He’s a poet. His blonde angel Candy (Abbie Cornish) is a painter. But really they’re both just young, boho junkies on a quivering tailspin through sunshine passion, cold turkey and the fresh, harried nowhere of addiction.

Drug-drama cliché road-blocks any new revelations here, but Candy does find a niche away from Requiem For A Dream’s hyperbole and Trainspotting’s swagger. Underplayed and acted to the max, it engrosses through heartbreaking moments (horrific still-birth, domestic meltdown) and keen observations (“For every 10 years you’ve been a junkie, you’ll have spent seven of them waiting”). Ledger’s zoned-out turn is terrific – but Cornish, the most beautiful smack-whore you’ve never seen, is something else. Watch this girl.

Unfortunately there’s nothing to get excited about on the disc: B-roll footage and chats with cast and crew.

 

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