In the realm of horror-comedies, few films are as unhinged and thought-provoking as Buddy the directorial debut of Casper Kelly. Starring Keegan-Michael Key as the titular murderous orange unicorn, Buddy turns the saccharine world of 1990s children’s television into a nightmare of control and manipulation.
The film, which premiered at the Coolidge Corner Theatre and is now showing at AMC DINE-IN Framingham 16 and Showcase Cinemas Warwick, follows the story of Buddy, a seemingly benign host of a children’s show called It’s Buddy. When a child refuses to join Buddy’s dance party, the unicorn’s true authoritarian nature is revealed, leading to a series of absurd and darkly comedic events.
The Unsettling World of Buddy
The film’s setting is a colorful, neon-lit world that mimics the artificial warmth of 1990s kids’ programming. Buddy, voiced by Key, is a nonunion version of Barney the Dinosaur, complete with cheesy songs and life lessons. However, as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Buddy will kill to maintain control over his cutesy little prison.
The film’s humor is derived from its absurdity. Buddy’s behavior and one-liners, including a perfectly deployed ‘bitch’ heighten the comedy. The killings are so outlandish that they become laughable, and Key’s performance is a significant contributor to this effect. The film also satirizes the sickening artificiality of ’80s and ’90s children’s entertainment, making it less disturbing than some of Disney’s animated musical fantasies.
The Art of Puppetry and Performance
Buddy is not just a horror-comedy; it is also an impressive feat of puppetry. The puppeteers, Sergey Zhuravsky and Jonathan Yurco, bring Buddy to life in both his benign and monstrous forms. Their work creates remarkable empathy for the silent, battered mailbox, whose only wish is to be repaired. Key’s vocal performance would not be as effective without their contributions.
The young cast, including Delaney Quinn and Caleb Williams, deliver excellent performances. They play children struggling to survive an impossible situation, and their performances add depth to the film’s exploration of abuse. Cristin Milioti and Topher Grace also contribute to the film’s adult characters, suggesting the cost of surviving abuse.
The Dark Heart of Buddy
At its core, Buddy is a meditation on abuse. The film uses the familiar imagery of children’s media—the cuddly yet sinister host, the friendly mailman, the anthropomorphic furniture—to explore the theme of child abuse. Buddy speaks the language of an abuser, manipulating, gaslighting, and mocking everyone around him. This theme is the true horror of Buddy: it is not just a grotesque-looking unicorn, but an abusive narcissist hiding behind the language of care.
The film’s effects of violence connect the adult characters to the children currently squashed under Buddy’s thumb. The young cast, all of whom are excellent, play children struggling to survive an impossible situation. The adults around them suggest the cost of surviving abuse: lingering damage, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and the tendency to seek out partners who replicate the traits of an earlier abuser.
Its humor, puppetry, and performances make it a standout in the horror-comedy genre. However, its true strength lies in its exploration of abuse and the lasting effects it has on its victims.
