As a baby of the 90s, television geared towards kids of that era has such a specific look and feel. Between Barney, Blues Clues, and Gullah Gullah Island, the hybrid worlds where anthropomorphic animals and humans coexisted together while teaching life lessons, often through song, were a comforting oddity well before the days of social media and the Internet. Casper Kelly’s horror/comedy Buddy manages to perfectly capture that exact tone, with its characters trapped in another dimension along with the titular freaky orange unicorn. What happens when Buddy snaps? The concept should not work nearly as well as it does. Kelly and co-writer Jamie King’s script and distinct visual language feel wholly original while carving out a niche for a new horror icon. Dipped in nostalgia and googly-eyed glee, Buddy finds the magic in this brutally violent and boldly unique ode to 90s children’s entertainment.
Welcome to Happy Town! Buddy initially presents as a relentlessly cheerful children’s program, one that was filmed in 1999, according to the end credits we see at the close of each increasingly demented ‘episode.’ Buddy himself comes to life through the magic of a child, taking the shape of a stuffed animal until someone calls for him; he then balloons to life-size, donning a cheery mascot costume with big exaggerated features. In this magical land, all problems can be solved through friendship, dancing, or song. In the first act, Kelly wonderfully fleshes out all aspects of Buddy’s universe. At Buddy’s Clubhouse, there’s a Worry Well where kids can unload their problems, and important life lessons are always learned through a catchy song.
There are even a motley crew of other characters too, including: Nurse Nancy (Phuong Kubacki), a human nurse; a mailbox with eyes aptly named Mr. Mailbox; another mascot-style animal, Betty Bunny, who functions similarly to Barney‘s Baby Bop in her bubbly enthusiasm for teaching lessons; talking backpack Strappy, voiced by Patton Oswalt, who seems confused by the occurences within the world; and Charlie the Train, an enthusiastic train with a mustache who feels plucked straight from Thomas & Friends. Nearly every inanimate object seems to have life at Buddy’s Clubhouse, including trash cans, clocks, and couches. Leaning into the silliness of its concept, Buddy choreographs its earlier scenes in a near-identical clone of the aforementioned children’s shows. The emphasis on their inherent preposterousness still underlines that kids can learn important real-world applications from the messages in these programs.
Something is wrong in It’s Buddy. This show doesn’t end when the credits roll, not for the denizens of Happy Town, anyway. The artificial enthusiasm resets with every ending song and credits. When little Freddy (Delaney Quinn) notices that one of the kids in Happy Town has mysteriously disappeared—and worse, that Buddy lied about it—she makes it her mission to unearth the truth. As Freddy ropes in other kids and digs deeper into Buddy’s weirdly eccentric behavior, the program itself starts glitching out. Kelly and cinematographer Zach Kuperstein play with aspect ratios as they corrupt the sugary sweetness of the faux series at the film’s center. Once it ropes in Grace (Cristin Milioti), a mother from the outside world convinced that there’s someone missing from her family, Buddy gets even more insane.
The gory practical effects clash spectacularly with the 90s aesthetic. Buddy’s rampage knows no bounds when he lets loose on anyone that threatens to break the established universe of his curated TV show. The actual kills are so wildly varied that they are over-the-top hilariously entertaining. Buddy himself, voiced by Keegan Michael-Key, keeps a playful edge even after snapping into a chilling version of himself. Buddy and the various talking objects completely sell the illusion of a forgotten show before everything goes horrifyingly wrong. The young actors also deserve credit for balancing the broad comedy and musical numbers with crippling fear and extremely bizarre material. Delaney Quinn in particular makes Freddy a likeable lead to root for as Buddy stalks her every move, begging her just to just love him.
With an inundation of excellent horror this year, Buddy rises near the top thanks to its depiction of colorful children’s fantasy clashing against surreal, disturbing horror and laugh-out-loud comedy. For a film that can be recommended as Barney meets Backrooms, the emotional elements and clever silliness baked in still manage to be masterfully executed. Rare is the horror film that remains unpredictable through to the bitter end, yet Buddy accomplishes exactly that while leaving the clubhouse door swinging open for future installments. Pop on your magic dance shoes and boogie onto the set of this parodical delight.
Find a new best friend with Buddy, now corrupting minds in theaters everywhere.
