Cult of Chucky: The seventh Chucky film is the most personal and deranged entry in the series
Don Mancini’s Seed of Chucky, the fourth sequel to the Mancini-penned, Tom Holland-directed Child’s Play, was one of this writer’s favorite films of 2004. Of course, horror fans expecting a more linear conventional film full of Chucky kills and one-liners were aghast by this self-referential and gleefully smutty and perverse franchise sidebar, a movie that turned the series on its head and delivered gore, silly sex, shock, laughs and style galore. It was a cross-eyed Brian De Palma movie in some respects. Hell, Mancini even commissioned De Palma’s right-hand man Pino Donaggio to compose the elegant score. I adored the film because I could see the fun Mancini was having sculpting a gleeful salute to the sort of cinema he adores and using the Chucky films he will forever be chained to to do so. But I get why the picture also served to isolate many fans.
And while I enjoyed the more somber, conventional direct-to-video Mancini-directed Curse of Chucky – which was a calculated bid to make something closer to the Hitchcockian original – I am pleased as punch to report that the follow-up to that film, Cult of Chucky (releasing on October 3rd to Blu-ray, DVD and Digital) sees Mancini exploiting the success of Curse by cannily concocting yet another deeply eccentric and totally personal melting pot of influences, quoting everything from One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest and Samuel Fuller’s delirious Shock Corridor to Brian De Palma’s Raising Cain to David Cronenberg’s The Brood to Argento’s Suspiria to A Nightmare on Elm Street 3 while also delivering the most giddily macabre and oddly disturbing and dream-like Chucky movie yet.
Fiona Dourif (daughter of Brad, who of course serves as the voice of Chucky) returns as Nica, the paraplegic heroine who survived Chucky’s rebirth and rampage and is now locked in an antiseptic insane asylum, filled with every class…