Black Devil Doll from Hell

Unbelievable obscurity from the mid-80s revels in its pornographic and horror inspirations. A church-going lady saving herself for marriage goes shopping at a thrift store and picks up a Jamaican puppet believed to have evil powers. It then proceeds to rape the living bejeezus out of her and turns her into a horn dog, only human meat cannot satiate her newfound hunger for puppet penis. Absurd on every level with pacing that can block a magnum bullet, this has garnered a cult status for all the right reasons. Only a few freeze frame montages show any creativity and deliver the biggest belly laughs, unless you count the disco scene from 1984 with numerous extras shaking their booties to Casio music. Which is the film's other main asset: score. The opening credits droll for a full 6.5 minutes with an accompanying song you'd swear was performed and vocalized by Aaron Stielstra; the rest of the songs coming from a Casio keyboard demonstration (literally) and an unbearable one-note synth drone that sounds like your tape is broken. Remarkably, the puppetry is very competent and I couldn't spot any humans manipulating the Fat Albert-voiced doll. Many, many scenes of erotica and nudity from one of the most unattractive women to grace the screen. The thrift store owner's line reading is hilarious and deserves its own drinking game.

I remember a friend of mine got a copy of this from someone when I was in about 10th grade. We must have watched this movie about 40 times, and laughed hysterically every time. Unfortunately, he somehow lost his copy of it. This is seriously one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. I highly recommend it. If you're lucky enough to find a copy.

Shot-on-video horror movies are probably the only kind of movies that come close to the depressing look of video pornography. The sheer lack of production values leads the viewer to contemplate whether or not the money that he or she has in their wallet could have funded a better piece of cinema. That said, BLACK DEVIL DOLL FROM HELL is just about the shoddiest movie I've ever seen, and that's saying something! I've braved more bad movies than I can even remember, and this one ranks pretty much as one of the three all-time worst pieces of galloping horse crap that I have ever endured. Terrible pacing, an annoying casiotone sound track, execrable acting and a truly pointless story are just some of the many non-highlights.

The only reason to see this is for the unintentionally hilarious rape scene wherein a pious sister of the church is tied down to her bed and given a serious rodgering by an evil, horny ventriloquist's dummy with dreadlocks. The scene where he "orally pleasures" her will forever be burned into my memory, not only because if was silly beyond all human comprehension, but because his tongue looks like a popsicle stick. And, yes, we do get to see his, er...wood. Rent it, and fast forward to this scene. After seeing it, immediately remove the tape from your VCR and use it as a skeet shooting pigeon.

Do we really need a title sequence which lasts for six minutes, forty-nine seconds?

Do we really need a bone-gratingly bad metal song played over the aforementioned six minutes, forty-nine seconds-long title sequence?

Do we really need to hear a five-minutes-long telephone conversation, while the camera aimlessly roams about the girl's apartment, drifting slowly in and out of focus, as if the cameraman forgot what the hell he was supposed to be filming and why?

Do we really need such obnoxious, over-poweringly LOUD noises, buzzes, and hissing on the soundtrack? Buzzing noises which can make dogs start baying two blocks away?

And must those ear-shattering noises accompany such ugly female nudity?

Do we really need to see this woman repeatedly getting boned by the doll that she bears an uncanny resemblance to?

What was the purpose of the still-photographs used during the attack scenes? Was it to conceal the crappy effects?

And if the doll keeps returning to the same Thrift Store by itself, why the hell doesn't the Thrift store worker just get rid of the bloody haunted thing?

None of these questions, and less, may ever be answered, even by the few people who have the tolerance to endure this putrid example of shot-on-video horror.

Not that it matters, but this is basically a one-person story, about the title object terrorising a pug fugly woman in her house. Well, actually it was probably filmed in Chester Novell Turner's house, on Chester Novell Turner's camcorder, written by Chester Novell Turner, directed by Chester Novell Turner, produced by Chester Novell Turner, edited by Chester Novell Turner, scored by Chester Novell Turner, with sound effects by Chester Novell Turner, featuring friends of Chester Novell Turner, and probably distributed by Chester Novell Turner, who handed copies of this to random passersby on the street, and leaving copies of it in local video stores, and perhaps anonymously mailing copies to people he didn't like.

It is kind of admirable, really, that this goofball had the commitment to actually see something like this through, and that he could actually persuade his friends to be in, and work on, a film like this, and see it through fruition. But really, it is an awful monstrosity of a so-bad-it's-good movie. Chester Novell Turner's friend David Ichikawa provides what is quite possibly the worst song in the history of recorded music, until that little toilet-bug Damon Fox came along nine years later with "his" Traces of Death.

The Simpsons tackled this same basic premise far more effectively (and funnier) eight years later, in the 'Klown Without Pity' segment of Treehouse Of Horrors III. Watch that instead.

Having just endured director Chester Novell Turner's horror 'anthology' Tales From The Quadead Zone, I thought I would see if his earlier film, Black Devil Doll From Hell, was any better. As it happens, it's just as inept, with almost seven minutes of opening credits, equally terrible acting, cheap special effects and the same atrocious Casio organ music, but it does manage to be marginally more entertaining thanks to its incredibly silly plot which results in the one-of-a-kind sight of a ventriloquist dummy having sex with a woman (well, one-of-a-kind until Black Devil Doll, a 2007 'homage' to this film).

The lady who receives wood from the doll is devout Christian Helen (played by Shirley L. Jones), who purchases the dummy from a thrift store, despite being warned that it has strange powers and always finds its way back to the shop. Unpacking her new purchase and placing it on a chair in her bathroom, Helen decides to take a shower, unaware that the doll is watching. While she soaps up her jugs, Helen daydreams about making it with the dummy. The woman's fantasies become reality when the doll jumps on her back, ties her to her bed, and has sex with her, making her beg for him to continue.

Waking up the next day to find the doll gone, Helen is distraught: having experienced mind-blowing sex, she wants more. Now a sinner, she ditches her religious paraphernalia, puts on some lipstick and her biggest pair of glasses, and goes looking for a man to satisfy her the way the doll did. No one can (not even Will Smith in a hat), so she returns to the shop, where the doll is waiting. Buying the dummy for a second time, she takes it home and demands more action. Nothing happens, so she threatens to destroy it, a mistake that costs her dearly.

Black Devil Doll From Hell is, as you've probably figured out, utter garbage, but bonkers enough to appeal to fans of z-grade cult oddities: the dummy (part Rick James, part Stevie Wonder, with just a dash of Whoopi Goldberg) is hilarious, especially when it gets up and walks (clearly a child in similar clothing), or when it shouts at Helen, "How do you like that, *****?". Watching the doll as it licks Helen's breasts, goes down on her, or gets nasty is a truly bizarre experience. And what the hell is up with that smoke it belches in her face? She might not be much of an actress, but I take my hat off to Jones just for being game.

2/10. It's bad... but don't let that stop you from watching.