|
Page 1 of 4 When it comes to films, I have dual natures, always competing. One the one hand, I am a fan of the medium in general, and will give any film a chance, regardless of genre. On the other hand, I am a rabid horror geek, and am much more passionate about that genre than any other. That passion gets me misunderstood sometimes, and people think horror is all I watch. I suppose it doesn’t help that that is the genre I choose to write about in these missives, but I just feel that the bad rep horror films get needs to be dispelled: people need to see that us horror fans are not all creepy, pudgy, pale dudes living in our moms' basements, any more than all fans of romantic comedies are pock-faced 35-year old spinsters with unicorn t-shirts and Charles and Diana US Mint commemorative plates.
Maybe it is that intersection of general film interest and horror film specification that has caused a horror anomaly in me: namely, that I don’t care for sequels. If you stop for a second and consider how the sequel is bread and butter for any horror film (I defy you to find me a horror film that does not crave in its shriveled little black heart to someday expand into that most glorious of horror film aspirations: the franchise), you will realize how odd that is. What an example? Phantasm was a very influential film on me, and I still consider it a favorite to this day (I say, as I thumb my nose in the general direction of Angela and Bobby). There are three sequels (and a reported fifth on the way), and I never seen one single frame of any of them. | So when I heard about the upcoming Child’s Play remake, I saw a good excuse to watch that film’s sequels. I had only seen the later Chucky films, but never parts two and three, which still retained the Child’s Play moniker. Which is really funny, when you stop to consider that I own all four sequels, a fact that doesn’t jibe with my earlier comments about my disinterest in sequels. The thing is, I am a huge geek, and when I saw the Chucky Killer DVD collection, with its plastiformed relief of the Chucky doll next to a shelf full of implements of destruction, well I just couldn’t help myself. All that, plus it was in the used section. What a bargain, what a bargain for me. |  |
I somehow thought that I was so slick: I was going to be able to do research at my own leisure, only needing to rely on Netflix for the first film in the series, and out of five films total, surely a column would coalesce from the viewings. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Except, not so much. Don’t get me wrong, I like the first one just fine, and Bride of Chucky and Seed of Chucky are fun movies in their own way, but two and three are sort of superfluous, and all together they don’t add up to much. But still, Chucky has hacked and slashed his way into our collective consciousness, and he appears to be here to stay. A check that Don Mancini has been taking to the bank for twenty years, now. So, interesting or not, here is a recap of the movies. Because, you know, I watched them and shit.
|
