The Gleefully Madcap ‘Chucky’ Series Proves ‘Child’s Play’ Was Worth Reviving … Again

Having written all seven of its genre-hopping feature films, directed its last three and, as he so eloquently put it, “nurtured the franchise for three f***ing decades,” Child’s Play creator Don Mancini was understandably incensed when MGM remade the original without his approval. While the man who “stole” the baton, Lars Klevberg, waits for a sequel to get the greenlight, Mancini has swooped in to reclaim what’s rightfully his. Only this time, he’s making horror’s most notorious doll (Annabelle who?) cause carnage on the small screen.

Airing on both Syfy and USA Network (premiere Oct 11), Chucky, unsurprisingly, ignores everything that happened in the middling reboot and instead picks up where 2017’s Cult of Chucky left off. That direct-to-VOD entry was perhaps the wildest ride in the redhead’s canon (“like Brian De Palma on an indie budget” declared The Hollywood Reporter) with Mancini upping the quips, deaths and general batshit insanity.

But with ten 45-minute episodes at his disposal, the first-time showrunner is able to give his famous creation a little more breathing space. You have to wait a good 20 minutes for Chucky’s first kill (and even then that’s a frog already primed for dissection) in an opener which channel hoppers could easily mistake for the angsty teen drama of 13 Reasons Why.

The Child’s Play franchise, of course, has always prided itself on reinvention, with the relatively straight-forward slasher vibes of the first three installments giving way to everything from post-Scream meta comedy (Bride of Chucky) to Gothic horror (Curse of Chucky). Yet Chucky is the first time Mancini has centered all the chaos in a setting even more terrifying than the dungaree-clad doll: high school.

Providing our entryway is Jake (Zackary Arthur), a troubled teen who unwittingly gives Chucky a new lease of life after buying him for $10 at a yard sale. Amid several brooding Billie Eilish-esque songs, we learn the 14-year-old is coping with his mother’s death by sculpting demented-looking dolls, constantly tormented by overachieving cousin Junior (Teo Briones) and his mean girl girlfriend Lexy (Alyvia Alyn Lind) and, perhaps most notably, dealing with his sexuality.

While the show touches upon the weaponry of social media (Lexy even uses GoFundMe to heap more misery on Jake) and prevalence of true crime podcasts, it’s the handling of LGBTQ issues which most successfully grounds Chucky in the present day. There’s a surprisingly touching will they/won’t they relationship between Jake and classmate Devon (Björgvin Arnarson) which is played as matter-of-factly as any straight Disney Channel tween romance. And although dad Lucas (Devon Sawa, pulling double duty by also playing uncle Logan) displays his fair share of toxic masculinity, the other residents of ‘haven for the bizarre’ Hackensack are far more accepting.

Queer characters have been a Child’s Play mainstay ever since Bride of Chucky‘s ill-fated David (Gordon Michael Woolvett) back in 1998. Seed of Chucky boasted what was surely cinema’s first ever genderfluid killer doll, while Cult… concluded with lesbian lovers Nica (Fiona Dourif) and Tiffany (Jennifer Tilly) riding off into the sunset, albeit with the former’s body possessed by the titular male menace. But never before has such a character taken center stage until now.

Even when he’s being coerced into homicide just a little too easily by his “friend until the end,” Jake makes for a sympathetic hero. That’s largely down to Arthur, used to manic co-stars having appeared in Nicolas Cage horror Mom and Dad, who nails both the withdrawn demeanor symptomatic of the high school outcast and the occasional giddiness that comes with a first crush.

Lind also impresses in the most villainous and seemingly indestructible human role, although the last of the four episodes available pre-air suggest she’ll be getting a much less fun redemptive narrative arc. Sawa, the former teen horror star (Final Destination, Idle Hands) now making us all feel old by playing not just one but two father figures, is another welcome addition, too.

However, it’s the voice of the eponymous lunatic that will get long-time Child’s Play fans most excited. Recently usurped by Mark Hamill on the big screen, previous ever-present Brad Dourif returns to provide that famous maniacal laugh and turn the air blue (despite the move to basic cable, there’s still plenty of F-bombs).

One of several familiar names – his regular partner-in-crime Tilly and real-life daughter Fiona are later expected to show up alongside the original Andy (Alex Vincent) and his foster sister Kyle (Christine Elise) – Dourif does have to share his iconic role with several much younger actors, though. Yes, almost inevitably, the show gives the voodoo-practicing serial killer Charles Lee Ray the origins treatment.

As with Leatherface’s in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning and Michael Myers’ in Rob Zombie’s Halloween, it’s a backstory that feels surplus to requirements. We don’t really need to know why Chucky kills, we just want to watch him doing it. Still, at least the series doesn’t try to garner too much sympathy for its monster. As shown in numerous sepia-toned ‘60s and ‘70s-set flashbacks — the first of which throws a blatant nod to the original Halloween — Ray was committing murder barely out of diapers.

Thankfully, after a slow start, the body count soon racks up in increasingly inventive ways (you’ll never stack the dishwasher with the knife blades facing upward again, that’s for sure). The scene where a bunch of silent disco-goers remain oblivious to the butchering and blazing fireballs behind them also proves the franchise hasn’t lost its darkly comic streak, either.

Mancini has freely admitted that Chucky is inspired by the “fan fiction written by experts” approach of NBC’s Hannibal. That explains why the deranged moppet has been modeled on the doll from Child’s Play 2, considered by many to be the franchise’s crowning glory, and why the cast list reads like a Greatest Hits. Yet by venturing into young adult territory, admittedly from a bloodthirsty, gleefully madcap angle, this entertaining addition also has the potential to reel in a new generation unfamiliar with its pint-sized psychopathic cherub doll.

Jon O’Brien (@jonobrien81) is a freelance entertainment and sports writer from the North West of England. His work has appeared in the likes of Vulture, Esquire, Billboard, Paste, i-D and The Guardian.