Review: Dolls (2019)

Dolls. They freak us out. With their beady black eyes and fixed expressions following us as we cross the room in our underwear, brushing our teeth while rocking out to some hair metal and… ah crud, there’s one right behind me, isn’t there?

Robert Holbrook (Thomas Downey) is a children’s book author with a drinking problem, a rebellious daughter, and an estranged wife. He inherits his mother’s house after her mysterious death and, upon moving in, discovers a collection of creepy dolls which quickly serve as inspiration for his next picture book. Much to his chagrin, he’s joined in the house by his 16-year-old daughter Sammey (Trinity Simpson), and the two begin the short road to restoring their father-daughter bond. Things get more complicated as Robert’s wife Lynn (Elise Muller) randomly shows up to harangue him and Sammey meets twenty-something love interest James (Bret Green). Also some doll stuff happens. Sorta. 

Let’s get one thing out of the way: this is one cheap movie. Like most of Uncork’d Entertainment’s output, it’s obvious that the film was shot quick, cheap, and with just enough quality to get it into Walmarts and Redboxes across the country. Heck, maybe some foreign deals if they’re feeling frisky. As such, there’s a lack of authenticity that plagues this production right off the bat. I’m not sure how the filmmakers imagine artists work, but I feel like some pencils from Blick Art Supplies and a Dollar Store sketchpad should come with red flags even for them. 

The cinematography is the real culprit behind most of Dolls’ problems. It’s not technically bad, nor does it have that flat, uncorrected look that some indies have. Instead it’s what I would call “drab professionalism”. The hair light is always on point, the key and fill are perfectly calibrated, and beyond a few outdoors shots rarely is anything over or under exposed. It’s all just so perfectly professional and, well, drab, that the aura of cheapness feels even more prescient than if they’d been less careful in their choices. Think soap opera lighting and you’ve pretty much got the picture. 

One of the more curious decisions is the romance between underage Sammey and the house’s gardener, James. Between their strange meet-cute turned smoking sesh and painful online chatting, it’s an awkward bit of plotting. Part of me wonders if the writers were just so desperate for entertaining drama that they felt making their heroine an underage love interest would tickle peoples’ fancy. Perhaps it could distract them enough that they’d forget to ask about where the damn doll horror movie is supposed to be. 

Speaking of dolls, what we have here is at least accurate to the DVD cover, which is a big positive for this sort of release, sadly. There’s not much stylistic connection between them, but at the very least two of the dolls, whom I’m dubbing Ol’ Crooked Neck and Whitey, look creepy enough that they could pass muster in a Charles Band production. I know, it’s faint praise, but that’s where we’re at with this one.

The concept behind the dolls’ supposed evil origin is actually a pretty novel one. Instead of generic devil possession, what we get is something close but with a sort of ancient psychiatric twist. In fact, I’d be pretty inclined to watch a sequel that better utilizes the potential laid out here. It’s just specific enough to form the basis of a tight mythology, if only it was explored a little more.

Dolls’ release is obviously meant to correlate with the release of Annabelle Comes Home, the third in a series that is itself a spinoff of The Conjuring, both being series that know exactly how to utilize a low budget to illicit scares and drama simultaneously. Well, maybe not the original Annabelle, but we try not to talk about that one. What those films do so well, and which Dolls’ creators should have considered, is creating tonal consistency. They have a sense of dread that could burst into full on fright at any moment, keeping you on the edge of your seat for almost the entirety of the film. Dolls simply doesn’t have that, and I imagine the filmmakers would argue that it’s not the intention, that the dolls aren’t the point, that the father-daughter relationship is the real key and yadda yadda yadda. It’s just cheap. 

Asking for anything more from producer Jeff Miller, he of Ouija House fame, might be one request too many. This is not a film meant to actually scare anyone, nor does it seek to force the audience into asking questions. It’s here to have a cool poster and hopefully be bought enough to make up for its meager budget. Despite what little good will seeps into the narrative, it is a cash grab through and through.

For those of you just in this for that sweet, sweet Dee Wallace action… she’s at least integral to the plot. Not super integral, but she is slightly more than an easy cameo. Her total screen time amounts to less than ten minutes, with the majority going to Tom Downey (who, for what it’s worth, turns in a solid performance) and Trinity Simpson (who, for what it’s worth, doesn’t). Maybe just go watch E.T. for the hundredth time if you’re really jonesing for some Dee Wallace.

All the negativity aside, the third act is actually a fairly compelling twenty minutes. The story shifts gears into a darker narrative that might have actually made this worth a rental if it was, well, not just the last twenty minutes. Prior to this uptick in quality, we’re so inundated with forced drama that I’d be surprised if most viewers even made it to these final moments. While the scenes still have that drably professional look, everything else — from the script to the sound design — feels like a proper horror flick. 

First-time director Cuyle Carvin may have some talent for this horror thing if he just buckles down and tries to overcome his budgetary limitations. Those last twenty minutes certainly point in that direction.

If this were an episode of a low-rent horror anthology or even a TV series, it might be a pretty entertaining watch. Unfortunately the slow buildup and undercooked drama damn this low budget production. Perhaps if it had any sense of atmosphere these negatives could be overlooked, but even that seems to be asking too much. 

Still, it’s nice to see a father and daughter bonding.