I have very vivid memories of the night terrors I suffered
after watching “Child’s Play” for the
first time as a youngster. If you aren’t that heavily into pop culture and
haven’t the slightest clue what I’m referring to, “Child’s Play” is a film about a serial killer escaping capture by
possessing a doll. The doll is purchased by a single mother and gifted to her
five-year-old son as a birthday present. I wouldn’t let any spoilers slip but let’s
just go with something simple and say mayhem ensues.
I couldn’t do much of anything after viewing that film for
fear of being attacked by Chucky, the doll from the movie. It took me awhile to
recover but soon after I found myself staring at the covers of “Child’s Play 2” and “Child’s Play 3” at Blockbuster. I
direly needed to know what happened next in the saga.
Watching this series sparked something that would lead to a lifetime
of being a connoisseur of horror films. When I had entered year four, I would
end each and every Friday with a trip to the lolly shop followed by renting as
many weekly horror movies as $10 would allow from Blockbuster with a note from my
parents asking them to permit me to rent the movies restricted for those above the age of fifteen. Friday and Saturday evenings would entail watching Laurie Strode
attempt to survive a brutal attack from her long-lost brother Michael Myers or
deciphering whether or not the babysitter had checked the children.
Unfortunately after a decade of seeing just about every
horror and cult film under the sun, it has reached the point where it would take a little more than a
wise-cracking doll to scare the bejesus about of me, but I shall persevere.
By Sid Shaw
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