I was born at a very young age in 1985, hot on the heels of the Ninja Turtles, and by the time the mid ’90s rolled around, I was wearing my hat backwards, eating Push Pops, and, without fail, being relegated to the position of “car lookout” in street hockey.
My fellow millenials certainly remember the saccharine educational children’s programming of the era, where a gang of kids wearing nylon exercise outfits gather in some kind of playhouse around a jolly stuffed mascot. This lovable furry creature would give them sage wisdom about how to make friends, fight your fears, and resolve conflict, and they’d end with a song, or maybe some arts and crafts.
Having nostalgia for a sillier time, I was surprised to see the recent movie trailer for Buddy, and my most sincere response was “what in the world is this?” Buddy is a bright orange unicorn who comes and helps out when you call his name, and he cheerfully assists you in achieving mundane goals with an educational patina.
Clearly, the writers of Buddy have a reverence and respect for the genre, because they managed to recreate the look and feel of ’90s programming, resplendent with VHS-qualtity resolution, talking furniture, and a cheerful vibe. However, clearly some person in a writing room said “what if the mascot was evil?” and so, Buddy was born.
The story follows a group of kids as they try to escape from the murderous orange unicorn who kills anything or anybody that gets in its way. Back out in the real world, there’s a B plot hatching, of a mother who continually has panic attacks, and a nagging suspicion that she used to have an extra kid who nobody knows about.
We learn that all of these kids in the television show were missing-children cases, manipulated by the beck and call of an evil magical unicorn, stealing them away into an alternate dimension where everybody is happy and singing… as long as you don’t piss Buddy off. While things start out sweet, Buddy gradually reveals himself to be a cruel monster, brutally murdering any child or adult who tries to leave his special playhouse.
This has to be the weirdest horror movie I’ve ever seen, and it’s worth watching just to admire the dedication to making a period-appropriate ’90s TV show, with a dark twist. One drawback of featuring the entire movie as a bright and colourful children’s program is that the concept can end up a little fatiguing for audience members over the age of four. Even so, the sheer gumption involved in the concept more than makes up for a shovel-full of cringe.
The horror genre has, over the past handful of years, undergone somewhat of a renaissance, where smaller or indie creators have tried outlandish concepts, and been celebrated for it. While Buddy is no Citizen Kane, it certainly knows exactly what it stands for, and refuses no quarter or concession to compromise it. In that regard, Buddy may be one of the most artistically relevant films ever created in the genre, as it masterfully recreates a point in history lost to time and culture.
Rather than taking the safe path and avoiding risk, Adult Swim writer, director, and showrunner Casper Kelly dares to be different. In an industry overflowing its porcelain brim with the fetid sludge of sameness and sequels, Buddy is a refreshing romp into the personal history of millenials everywhere, with a heaping helping of camp and absurdist horror.