Editor’s Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on November 11, 2004, and we’re proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
After only a handful of films, Rogue Pictures has come to be the go-to banner for horror features with a spiky sense of humor. USA Films first used that tag on its subversive slasher Cherry Falls, and when the company morphed into Focus Features, it debuted the Rogue releasing label with the sublime Shaun of the Dead. Now comes Seed of Chucky, which is easily the most perverse movie to get nationwide U.S. release in recent memory. Bloodily going where no horror-film series has gone before, Seed is one of the few fright-franchise entries to treat its villain as a character worth exploring and developing, instead of just plunking him down in a new environment with a fresh set of victims. The fact that he’s a doll means that there was no way writer and debuting director Don Mancini could play this seriously, but he’s found just the right warped, satirical tone to put the material across—and to keep the Chucky cycle feeling fresh.
Mancini also clearly loves the genre, as his lengthy opening setpiece pays tribute to Halloween and Psycho, though only after an audacious title sequence that takes the viewer along for the miracle of conception and birth, Chucky-style. The result is a living-doll offspring (voiced by Billy Boyd) who somehow finds himself, years later, as the pawn of a sleazy, third-rate British magician who uses him to try to win an international ventriloquism competition. After discovering that a movie is being made in Hollywood about Chucky and his “bride” Tiffany’s exploits, the little guy realizes that they must be his parents, escapes his captor and makes his way to Tinseltown. One of the stars of that film, meanwhile, is Jennifer Tilly (playing Jennifer Tilly), who despairs of doing horror flicks and would really like to win the lead in a Biblical epic directed by rapper-turned-actor-turned filmmaker Redman. It’s a measure of Mancini’s deftness that he convinces us to believe in a world where Redman could direct a Biblical epic—not to mention one in which there are international ventriloquism competitions.
Needless to say, Chucky and Tiffany are brought back to life (performed once again by Brad Dourif and Tilly)—and in keeping with the movie’s self-referential tone, the former’s first violent act is to grab Seed FX creator Tony Gardner (also playing himself) by the balls. When not indulging in acts of violence that are surprisingly splattery for an R-rated picture, the duo squabble like, well, an old married couple, mostly about their child, who’s got a G.I. Joe-like pelvis and is unsure of his own gender. Chucky, of course, wants a boy and names him Glen; Tiffany, equally naturally, wants a girl and dubs him Glenda. (Mancini is nothing if not generous with his homages.) Seed of Chucky’s twisted take on family dynamics is its most original and successful trope, and the writing, Gardner’s FX and Dourif, Tilly and Boyd’s voice work are strong enough that the dolls’ relationships are completely believable, providing the movie a spine that supports a string of nasty and funny moments.
The Hollywood satire is somewhat more familiar, and doesn’t ascend the heights of meta that Wes Craven’s New Nightmare did. This may have had something to do with the low budget, which necessitated shooting in Romania and results in an underpopulated-seeming LA. But the people who are on view are vividly enacted, from the grasping Tilly (frequently hilarious as an exaggerated version of herself) to the more-than-willing-to-be-grasped Redman to John Waters, reveling in the role of a sleazy paparazzo who you just know is gonna get his. But Mancini is shrewd enough to make Waters’ final scene about more than just his demise—it’s also a moment of truth for Glen, whom Chucky has brought along to take part in his first kill.
Those seeking metaphor will find quite a bit to chew on in the identity crisis of Glen, who feels conflicted about whether he should behave more like his dad or his mom, and questions at one point why he can’t do both. Mancini isn’t getting heavy with a message, though—he’s seeking new avenues to explore with his pint-sized murderers, providing fresh twists that more than justify the continuation of their story. Seed will give some viewers issues to ponder, while those seeking a wicked good time will simply enjoy it as Chucky’s bloodiest and most twisted adventure yet.
