“You killed my mummy and daddy,
and now you’re pissing your pants!”
So, Chucky and Tiffany have a
kid. It’s just like David Bowie in
every way, including the androgyny. This is a deliciously silly film, which has
just as much metatextual fun as its predecessor. It rips the piss out of loads
of films, but is essentially more of the same that we know and love from the
last film. Just a little bit more British.
It’s rather surreal to see Hannah Spearitt in a film like this. It’s
even weirder, though gleefully hilarious, that the likes of Jennifer Tilly and Redman would play themselves in such a delightfully unflattering
way. Best of all, of course, is the way that Glen, or Glenda, acts as a
catalyst to the relationship between our two evil dolls. I particularly love the
sequences in which Tiffany attempts
to give up her addiction to killing. This is the most Californian thing ever.
Of course, there are plenty of
gruesome deaths, but I think I speak for everyone when I say that the thing we
remember most after seeing this film is the sight of Chucky, silhouetted, er, wanking. This, more than anything else in
the franchise, is the stuff of nightmares. I half suspect that the whole plot
about children exists solely so that this scene can exist. This film is evil. I
love it
Silly though this film is, it is
interesting to see how far the franchise has changed from its origins. These last
two films, both of them superb, seem to belong to a different age. The
animatronics are notably better here even than in the previous film and the
humour is both sharper and more evil. I particularly enjoyed the fate of Britney Spears. Each film in the series
has been better than the last one, and this film is the peak. Roll on the next
one.
