Evoking the spirit of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre has been attempted by many a horror film over the years. Writer/director Rod Blackhurst gets perhaps the closest we have seen in awhile—his Dolly makes for a modern Leatherface equivalent, donning a sadistic ceramic doll mask. Perhaps the most surprising aspect of this grimy indie feature is just how good the practical effects look. Properly complementing the gory nastiness is an atmosphere of constant grime and decay. Of course, there’s also a notable final girl, and at least one other baddie to go along with the lumbering monstrosity that is Dolly herself. Disgusting and weirdly fun, Dolly channels grindhouse terror encased in a dollhouse of disturbing delights.
A limping brute rocks a decapitated corpse in its arms in the opening scene. As Dolly takes her latest plaything and dumps it into an unmarked grave surrounded by even more dolls, a young couple makes their way through the woods nearby. Chase (Seann William Scott) and Macy (Fabianne Therese) are headed to a beautiful overlook, where Chase will propose, and the duo will live happily ever after with his small daughter. Chase unfortunately fails to keep on the trail: a rookie mistake. Suffice to say, the paths of these two groups will intersect in brutal fashion.
As Dolly, transmasc wrestler Max the Impaler paints an imposing figure. The porcelain-masked matriarch employs all manner of sadistic torture methods, and would make an excellent central horror figure in a bevy of sequels, should we get them. Dolly’s brutish presence is the film’s crowning glory. Mostly, we witness her savagery by shovel. Inside her house, Dolly takes things to a new level. She kidnaps Macy, forcing her to endure twisted methods in Dolly’s makeshift nursery. Macy’s infantilization rituals are cruel and unusual, including force-feedings, spankings, and diaper changes.
Perhaps the sole feature that did not fully work for me was the chapter structure. Broken up into seven chapters, they seem to exist merely to add an additional stylistic flourish. The sequence of events is heavily weighted in certain chapters, whilst others are barely a blip. Still, that is a small issue when measured against the greater whole. Blackhurst builds the backwoods atmosphere by way of boarded-up interiors, an endless array of dolls, and grotesque imagery to haunt one’s nightmares. The gnarly practicality of the kills feels transported straight from 80s splatter cinema.
Despite the eerie quality of Dolly’s veritable playhouse, the humans of the story help to bring levity through the bloodletting. Scott shows surprising pathos as a loving father, whilst Therese’s Macy carries the final girl moniker proudly through her survival horror struggles. There’s also a fair bit of gallows humor to help the twisted nature of the scenario go down just a little bit smoother, and a neat sequel tease and tip jar in the credits. That alone proves these filmmakers have a wicked eye for what makes a horror franchise. Dolly has all the makings of one, refusing to spoon-feed the audience with questions about its oddball family dynamic. Fans of extreme horror and slasher nastiness should slurp this down faster than Dolly’s sour milk bottle.
Dolly stuck a shovel in its worldwide premiere at 2025’s Fantastic Fest.
