Before I start bashing these horror sequels, let me first start off by saying that this genre is by far my favorite. I grew up watching good ol' Freddy, Michael Myers, and the infamous Chucky. There was something appealing about a psychopathic, red-haired, freckled, blue eyed, Good Guy doll trying to take over little kids souls.
What is remarkable about these horror sequels from the past is that they make the unreal or impossible seem real. For example, we have our share of psychos and killer sharks, but the chances of getting attacked by one? Highly unlikely. But thanks to movies like these, we still feel the urge to turn a light on in the middle of the night and splash around like a wounded fish whenever we see a foreign object in the ocean.
Is it just me, or does the magic sort of die when these creatures keep coming back from the grave? I know after a while I stopped checking under the bed and stopped checking the closets because I figured if I ever caught and killed one of these monsters, they'll come back anyway. I might as well coexist with them rather than piss them off and have them track me down with a missing head or limb.
After a while with all of these sequels, the whole plot behind the original story would have been forgotten by the viewer. One prime example would be my favorite little redheaded basket case, Chucky. The sequels were as follows:
- Child's Play: Friends think I'm crazy for liking this movie, but I can't help it. I thought the plot was outrageously unique. How many Good Guy dolls out there are possessed by a serial killer's spirit? Hmm? And how many killer toy stories were inspired by this concept?
- Child's Play 2: OK, so Chucky comes back AGAIN after being fried to a crisp and having his head and limbs shot off. In this movie, his one purpose is to track down the little boy from the previous movie, Andy, and take over his soul (the deal was, in order for him to get out of the doll's body, he would have to transfer his soul into the body of the first person he told his identity to, which happened to be this six year old boy). Chucky tracks him down and surprise, he dies again in a pool of hot wax.
You know what? From this point on, I'll spare you the cheesiness. In the following sequels, Chucky comes back three times. In the third movie, Chucky plays Rambo. In the fourth movie he gets married, and in the fifth movie he has a hermaphrodite child. Can I just stop there and say: "What?!"
As much as I love the little Good Guy, I wish directors would just let him and other artistic aspects of the horror movie sequel rest in peace.