Dolly, 2025.
Directed by Rod Blackhurst.
Starring Fabianne Therese, Seann William Scott, Ethan Suplee, Russ Tiller, Michalina Scorzelli, Max Lindsey, and Kate Cobb.
SYNOPSIS:
Macy, a young woman, is abducted by a monstrous figure intent on raising her as their own child.
As lifeless as an actual doll (even if there is plenty of gore to go around), co-writer/director Rod Blackhurst’s (collaborating with Brandon Weavil) Dolly seems to have never settled on anything to do with the backwoods abducted prisoners Texas Chain Saw Massacre wannabe vibe, despite gesturing at several ideas.
Macy (Fabianne Therese) and Chase (Seann William Scott in a rare non-comedic role, though that could be argued, given the ridiculous, unintentionally hilarious injury his character suffers early on and soldiers on with) are madly in love. He is about to propose on their date in the woods (a babysitter will be watching over his young daughter), and she knows it’s coming. As much as she welcomes the proposition of marriage, a FaceTime phone call with a friend shows that she is nervous about inheriting a child in this package, afraid that she will be just as horrible a parent as her mother. The friend tries to reassure her before Chase returns, and they are on their way.
Whatever family trauma Macy is still working through is abandoned entirely and exists as something to juxtapose against the real horrors that come here. The presence of such danger is made as ominously uninviting as possible, with porcelain dolls throughout the environment. Metaphorically, perhaps this represents Macy’s anxieties about soon entering into a responsible parent role by extension of marrying Chase. When it comes to common sense, it should be a clear-as-day sign for these two to get the hell out of Dodge, but alas, this is the type of horror movie that adheres to the guidelines of unbelievably dumb protagonists who continuously insult our intelligence at every turn.
Lurking in these woods is the imposing, porcelain doll-masked, traditional 1950s housewife-dressed, monstrous Dolly (Max the Impaler, also a professional wrestler who fits the part and the character’s physical build), who has a genuinely terrifying presence and freakish brute strength. She is out to kill, but when it comes to Macy, this uncommunicative being wants to lock her up and take care of her like a baby. Such unsettling moments naturally transition into equally clever gross-out body horror.
The problem is that, even at 83 minutes, the film falls into a repetitive cat-and-mouse chase sustained only by contrivances and stupidity. From the grainy picture to the dread-inducing atmosphere, it never escapes the shadow of its unsuccessful attempt to ape one of the greatest horror films ever made. This isn’t a case of homage or of wearing influences on one’s sleeve, but rather something deeply uninspired that struggles to function as its own idea.
Once the terror leaves the home and is further dragged out, any trace of wanting to tell a disturbing story about generational trauma and family bonds has evaporated for an onslaught of violence that is occasionally entertaining, yet also unconvincing and funny (someone spends the majority of this film walking around the woods with their jaw ripped off and hanging from their face). There is a reveal about a character in the home that tries to further get at those parallels, but it neither works nor makes much sense.
Dolly is broken into seven chapters, even though its running time doesn’t reach 80 minutes without credits. As such, every single one of those chapters feels pointless and empty, hoping that the copious amounts of blood and dismemberment will satisfy anyone disappointed that the filmmakers aren’t following through on any proposed narrative through line. Any hope here is shattered early on, just like porcelain.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder
