Seed of Chucky: Frank's Take
01/01/2005 . Source: Frank Ochieng 

Do you know what the REAL frightening thought is behind the emergence of Seed of Chucky? Well, it’s certainly not the fact that a demonic doll gets its perverse kicks from the self-destructive tendencies it cherishes so gleefully.

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In fact, the real frightening thought stems from the notion that the faulty filmmakers figured on once again milking a gore-infested gimmick that has become somewhat tiresome after four previous servings of the Child’s Play horror-induced hoot film series.

Of course dearly demented Child’s Play posterboy of pain Chucky is back to wreak some familiar havoc. But then so what? After all, don’t all these movie menaces seem to arbitrarily reappear and eventually wear out their warped welcome? Consider Jason Voorhees, Freddy Kruger, and Michael Myers…the list tediously goes on and on ad nauseam. And now the problematic plaything Chucky returns to the scene of the crime. Oh brother!

Writer-director Don Mancini revisits the campy manufactured madness with the needless follow-up Seed of Chucky, an abysmal continuation of the immensely popular killer doll’s frivolous homicidal antics. When Chucky first came within range of our goose-bumpy radar in 1988, audiences were terrified and tickled by the giddy premise of a tortuous toy with the ability to cause chaos at a moment’s notice. In an artistic way, this was purely a clever concept because of the inherent suggestion that playing with dolls is indeed a creepy sign of inexplicable bonding to a certain degree.

Although the original Child’s Play and its subsequent sequels were intentionally meant to mix scare tactics with satirical silliness the formula for creating a “chilling chuckle” comes to a screeching halt with Mancini’s seemingly desperate concoction. Disappointingly, Seed of Chucky as the fifth installment pertaining to the divisive doll doing the deadly deeds fails to register anything solid in its bid to mine both fearful and funny transitional tidbits. Overall, this is a less than mediocre macabre parody without a probing pulse to back up its wayward wit and/or wickedness.

Oscar-nominated actress Jennifer Tilly (who incidentally provides the voice for Chucky’s wife Tiffany) plays herself in the form of a desperate actress looking for a breakout part. Tired of being reduced to partake in cheesy productions such as…well…flicks like Child’s Play, Tilly seeks to win the coveted role of the Virgin Mary in a so-called ambitious picture spearheaded by rapper-director Redman (also playing himself in the movie). Tilly needs this movie and even if it means snuggling up to the money-hungry moviemaker Redman intimately then fine—she does what she has to do in order to secure that big screen guarantee.

In the meanwhile, our “married” wooden wackos Chucky (as voiced consistently by Brad Dourif) and Tiffany (who came into prominence in 1998’s Bride of Chucky) are back and as cheerfully sadistic as ever. Apparently, their union produced an offspring in the presence of a British ventriloquist dummy without any defining genitalia makeup. This English seed of Chucky and Tiffany’s stumbles across the entertainment newscast detailing Tilly’s involvement with this meaty project in Hollywood and also yearns to locate his rascal-minded parents in the process. Thus, the inquisitive dummy is bound for Tinseltown.

When Chucky and Tiffany discover that they spawned a “child” much to their amazement (and ours as well), they don’t know what to make of the newcomer that claims to be part of their loins. Since their dummy kid has no particular sexual organ to speak of immediately, they dub him/her as Glen (Chucky’s choice) and Glenda (Tiffany’s preference). Naturally calling the “discovered one” Glen/Glenda is a direct ode to the carefree, quirky and flawed cinematic craftsman Ed Wood. Alas, a new kind of family dynamic that not only sticks together but also kills together! How touching, huh?

Faced with the intriguing prospect of being a murderous mommy and daddy to the ambiguous and androgynous-looking Glen/Glenda, the dissatisfied dolls want more children. Tiffany isn’t willing to reproduce so they need to get assistance in breeding from another source. Conveniently, they scheme to use Tilly’s voluptuous human body as the target for bearing their future terrorizing tots. Absurdly, Mancini goes through some nonsensical great lengths to plot the outlandish plan behind impregnating the periled Tilly. More so foolish than shocking, we are treated to the quaint pleasure of witnessing a shadowy Chucky masturbating to an issue of Fangoria magazine in an effort to generate the sperm needed to seal the deal. As if that’s not bizarre enough try sitting through the off-kilter sequence of watching Tiffany use a turkey baster containing Chucky’s semen as she applies it to Tilly.

It’s easy to dismiss the criticisms of Seed of Chucky by utilizing the standby mindset of not taking this flick too seriously and suspending all implausibility in order to have an enjoyable twisted time. That is all well and good but Mancini doesn’t respect the movie that much to even deserve an ounce of praise for the slight pity points it may garner for its over-the-top banality. It’s crystal clear that Chucky and company struggle with the misguided mayhem that tries awkwardly to hit its merry-minded morbid mark. Sure, Mancini plants the obligatory scattering violent outbursts that one comes to expect when dealing with this hair-raising graphic genre. However, the random recklessness created in this movie feels rather tired and uninspired as it goes through the labored, loony motions. Plus, the fear factor never really delivers the sordid punch therefore making Mancini’s nauseous narrative a sluggish and pointless scarefest reaching for cryptic credibility.

In clumsily juggling the corrosive and comedy bits in Seed of Chucky, Mancini lazily settles for atmospheric gags in order to push his gruesome gumption. See Chucky getting excited over the bouncy breasts of fleshy Tilly. See an assortment of wacky yet wasteful spoofs that chime in from everything dealing with The Shining to raking over the coals the ridiculous obsession with celebrity. See freakish filmmaker John Waters as a member of the paparazzi trying to outplay and outwit the ridiculousness of the material he’s saddled in so haplessly. See as Chucky and Tiffany resort to their trivial tirade with all the jolt of a defective hand buzzer.

Unfortunately, Seed of Chucky is a moping mess. Its glaring reality is that it’s a thinly conceived slash-ridden showcase that lacks the charming chills to support the tattered suspense. Some horror cult-cravers may take into account the weirdness and any other offbeat vibes that Mancini’s manic universe conjured up in this flimsy frightfest. But for the most part, others may have wished that Chucky and his sick-minded sweetie Tiffany would simply stay put while locked away in a secure toy box.

Hmmm…imagine the likes of Chucky and Tiffany as gloomy grandparents? We’re probably jumping ahead of ourselves since this will most likely be an exploitative edition that could pop up in the near future. Geez, we can hardly wait, right?

Frank Ochieng

(c) Frank Ochieng 2005