PUPPET MASTER: LITTLEST REICH – Achtung! It’s Good!

The first instalment of Puppet Master received high marks from us. The latest one—terrible. In between, there were several average and weak entries. The new installment (I mean the series with actors in costumes) did not spark my interest until I learned that the screenplay was written by S. Craig Zahler—a creator of several powerful films, among others Dragged Across Concrete.

The cast was also encouraging. In front of the camera appeared: Udo Kier (a veteran of on-screen otherness—from Argento to von Trier), Matthias Hues (a long-haired blond, a karate fighter of the 80s and 90s), Barbara Crampton (known from, among others, Re-Animator), Michael Paré (from Walter Hill to cheap action or horror cinema). It looked like a solid ride, but that was still no guarantee of quality. Reboots, remakes, and sequels often promise a lot and miss the mark. Except… it is actually really good!

Edgar finds an unusual doll in a closet and decides to sell it at an auction in a hotel where a bloody incident once took place. He arrives there with his girlfriend and a friend. They do not know that the dolls (plural, because there are more of them in the hotel) are alive and, additionally, adhere to a fascist ideology. So they will begin by removing all otherness from the building…

I have never been a fan of Charles Band’s series (co-creator of, among others, Robot Jox). The first installment had a pleasant atmosphere of a niche, somewhat theatrical and dusty production, but at times it was really boring, which is felt even more clearly when watching it years later. However, seen at a teenage age, it had every right to cause flushed cheeks and bulging eyes. I know the subsequent installments fifth through tenth; currently I only remember a few scenes with the drill-headed doll or the six-armed cowboy. Perhaps because the little psychos had distinctive external attributes (a blade, a flamethrower), but suffered from a lack of real personality.

I had the impression that the rubber degenerate Chucky—with Brad Dourif’s voice full of venom and expression, and a truly vicious mug—would eat them for breakfast. After this installment, which is essentially a reboot of the first, I can say that such a meal would get stuck in the red-haired sadist’s throat, only to shortly thereafter break through the wall of that throat and burst out into the outside world.

I wrote about a reboot, although the producer of the series, Charles Band, rather speaks of an alternative, darker world of the dolls. The name is perfectly fitting, but the most important thing is that we get a really successful film—bloody, tight, and funny. And without sloppy execution, because the whole thing is thought through and made with taste. A bad one. But good. Well, you know what I mean…

We get the best cinematography in the entire history of Band’s dolls—solid and not flattening the story. The music (melancholic, dramatic, and strongly retro) is composed by Fabio Frizzi, an Italian classic of horror scoring, famous for his collaboration with Lucio Fulci (for example The Beyond). The aforementioned old guard of actors (Kier, Crampton, Paré, Hues—the names alone sound strong) plays supporting roles, but each of them does so solidly or (okay, we are talking about the long-haired blond) in unmistakably his own style.

The leading actors—much younger and less recognizable—turn out surprisingly well. It was probably easier to build something with a story by Zahler, who knows that the viewer must care about the characters’ fate. Because slaughter alone—no matter how imaginative—will not do the job. So we get a trio of protagonists who not only convince us but also earn our sympathy. Zahler is aware of what paths lead to the heart of a Puppet Master-type viewer. He made the protagonist a slightly graying comic shop clerk. A withdrawn divorcee who has to move back in with his parents, despite the fact that his father is disgusted by his life path.

Edgar is a pop culture fan; more than one record store employee or B-movie reviewer will quickly bond with him. His girlfriend is a lively and energetic student who, when facing the dolls, shows remarkable resilience and quickly reaches for a gun. A true mix of Ripley and Jamie Lee Curtis. Edgar’s friend and boss in one—talkative Markowitz—is the type of jaded smart guy who, somewhere beneath his mythomaniac-narcissistic mask, hides a heart of gold. The combination of these very lively characters, not drawn with a cheap and thick line, with the Nazi dolls gives a successful effect.

Let us move on to the latter. The film lacks a few iconic characters (for example the six-armed Cowboy), but introduces several new ones, including the Frog or the Money Lender, who looks like a Jewish figure inhabiting the minds of all antisemites. The dolls in the series have never inspired fear (well, unless you watched the film as a child, in your parents’ absence). This time they do not either—if only because this film is in fact a macabre comedy. The creators have consciously dropped the curtain, stating that nowadays there is no point in pretending that swastika-serving dwarfs are horror material.

The little protagonists, however, are made really solidly. This is not, of course, the level of works by Giger or Carlo Rambaldi, but for the needs of more lightweight cinema it is enough. Particularly impressive are the sequences of birthand the intrusion into one of the victims’ brain. In general, the film indulges in macabre. The new Puppet Master is a workshop of dismantling and processing human tissue. It looks both hardcore and conventional at the same time, but also does not overwhelm either the characters or the course of the action. The massacre is tasty, it brings a wide and warm smile. The relaxed atmosphere is strengthened by the characters’ sharp language and sex scenes. Both elements fit perfectly here.

Zahler—a director, but also a metal musician—likes pop culture and likes chaos. That is why he will breathe sulfur in our face and burst with blood, because these are the kinds of productions he himself wants to watch. He is probably also intrigued by the fact that the controversial content in his story may unsettle a certain part of the audience. I write about the screenwriter more often than about the director, but it so happens that the former left a clear mark on the work. And a mark of quality. The film is short, efficiently made. There is no time for boredom, and the creators quite sensibly used the method—still relatively fresh—mix hipsters with….

Thus the comedy This Is the End combined them with the apocalypse, and the less known Suburban Gothic with a haunted house. Here, pop culture-inflated bearded guys can creak with irony as long as the slaughter has not yet begun. The director of the new Puppet Master also assumed that if you sculpt—no matter whether in B-movie class or another—you should hold the chisel firmly and work with respect for the material.

Cheaper or less ambitious cinema does not have to be synonymous with sloppiness. If it is, it will end up in a supermarket bin, with a 0.99 price sticker, and no one will take it anyway. On the other hand, attempts to be super-outlandish non-stop result in films like Machete Kills, which are funny only to those who have been told that they are funny. Nazis—in comic book cinema and video games—are still cool, especially when combined with a supernatural element. Meanwhile Zahler continues to knock teeth out. And the new Puppet Master is a really pleasant film for detoxing the brain after a hard day. Successful enough that I am already looking forward to the next installment. A small army, but it pleases.