Why would I spend weeks of my life preparing for this barrage of Mexican weirdness for you, dear reader? Just so I could tell you all about this movie, which is a veritable pot luck dinner of the things that both enthrall and upset me in movies.
Mexico, as horror filmmakers, rarely does subtle. And they rarely just do one thing when other horrifying elements can be layer on, like the scariest tasting seven-layer burrito ever burrito'd.
It would be enough if this movie was a ripoff of Child's Play. But no, that's too easy for director Roberto Guinar. No, instead, the doll shows up for a man named Lorenzo, who can't perform sexually with anyone but his mother. Yes, that's right. If you're not creeped out by human dolls running around and killing people, this movie tosses in a side dish of incest. And not implied. Oh no. No, no, no. This invest is driven into your eyes and heart with all the fervor and subtlety of a Mexican soap opera from Hell.
Yes, Yermo has entered the House of Dolls, the store where Lorenzo and his ladylove mother call home. When our hero - is he our hero? - takes him to a children's show, all the doll will do is fart. And fart. And fart some more.
The music in this is insane, like cowboy music with synths at times and screams and growls at others, all in English for a movie shot in Spanish that looks and feels like a late moderl scumbag Italian film but came out years after it was made and was only available in bootleg bins in Mexican stores in the U.S.
Everything in the above paragraph is why I am both fascinated and upset by this movie, which we all know means that I will be talking about it non-stop to anyone dumb enough to listen.
Most of this movie is Yermo and the lunatic son lying on the floor and laughing, as if you have a window in to their baffling world. I want to know more. In the perfect world of my dreams, this movie would have had at least two sequels to explain more. And no, the budget, aesthetics and sheer incomprehensibility of this would not have been altered a lick in between installments.
This movie was near-impossible for me to find, but if you want to come over to my house, I'll mix you cocktails spiked with hallucinogenics and we can scream at one another about this movie for as long as it takes.
Mexico, as horror filmmakers, rarely does subtle. And they rarely just do one thing when other horrifying elements can be layer on, like the scariest tasting seven-layer burrito ever burrito'd.
It would be enough if this movie was a ripoff of Child's Play. But no, that's too easy for director Roberto Guinar. No, instead, the doll shows up for a man named Lorenzo, who can't perform sexually with anyone but his mother. Yes, that's right. If you're not creeped out by human dolls running around and killing people, this movie tosses in a side dish of incest. And not implied. Oh no. No, no, no. This invest is driven into your eyes and heart with all the fervor and subtlety of a Mexican soap opera from Hell.
Yes, Yermo has entered the House of Dolls, the store where Lorenzo and his ladylove mother call home. When our hero - is he our hero? - takes him to a children's show, all the doll will do is fart. And fart. And fart some more.
The music in this is insane, like cowboy music with synths at times and screams and growls at others, all in English for a movie shot in Spanish that looks and feels like a late moderl scumbag Italian film but came out years after it was made and was only available in bootleg bins in Mexican stores in the U.S.
Everything in the above paragraph is why I am both fascinated and upset by this movie, which we all know means that I will be talking about it non-stop to anyone dumb enough to listen.
Most of this movie is Yermo and the lunatic son lying on the floor and laughing, as if you have a window in to their baffling world. I want to know more. In the perfect world of my dreams, this movie would have had at least two sequels to explain more. And no, the budget, aesthetics and sheer incomprehensibility of this would not have been altered a lick in between installments.
This movie was near-impossible for me to find, but if you want to come over to my house, I'll mix you cocktails spiked with hallucinogenics and we can scream at one another about this movie for as long as it takes.
