Seeing this in five hours. So excite.

You carry on, I'll just go and get popcorn. No really, I'll see you in there. No need to worry about saving a seat for me.

Did anyone ever see the 1988 movie, Pin? You'll remember if you have.

Because I have never, not once, forgotten Pin in all the years since I watched it. And this movie is uncomfortable neighbours with Leon/Pin.

I actually really want to know what happens in this movie, but I will never watch a movie that has an evil doll in it, so.

I guess all of you should go and see it and then come back and explain it to me.

I'm going to fully admit to victim blaming here but, but! Literally everything that happens to that woman in this movie is completely her fault because when she discovered she would be nannying for a doll she STAYED. What more do you need before you realize, "holy shit I'm living in a horror movie I should go now"???

Brahms.

Brahms, the doll.

I'm sure he's terrifying and all, I can see that they've gone to a lot of trouble over it, what with the eerie pallor and dressing him like a tiny Rod Serling and such. I just feel like, "Brahms" might be trying a bit too hard? He's plenty creepy, there's no need to gild the lily.

I'll tell you what's really terrifying though: that house. That house is, like, made of ghosts. You could make a movie about an Osterizer blender named Harold, with a list of ominous ingredients it is forbidden to blend, and if you set it in that house it would be pure nightmare fuel.

Evil doll media is 100% in the Nope Nuh-Uh No Way Also Nah Zone.
My mom kept some of her mother's old dolls in our guest room and OF COURSE they were all BONE-WHITE PORCELAIN and OF COURSE they all had PITCH BLACK EYE SOCKETS because their eyes apparently up and left one day. They all sat in little chairs at the other end of the room and stared holes into your life essence as you passed by. Worst room.

I am totes chill with dolls, loved Rumer Godden novels and Tasha Tudor picture books, played with my dolls to an advanced age and am now saving them for the next generation. Should they rise against us, I will offer to comb out their hair and make them new socks and negotiate a truce.

I'll protect all of you from dolls if you will protect me from snakes and down escalators.

When I was but a wee protohuman, one of my evanescent career goals was to be a professional ventriloquist. This particular passing obsession coincided with the holiday season, so when my grandmother asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I requested a vent dummy. I had no concept of what constituted a realistic price range for Santa Claus, and would routinely ask for things like gold bullion or pet monkeys.

No doubt a professional-grade ventriloqual figure is fairly costly. However, Grandma somehow ran across a mail-order ad from the Johnson Smith catalog, better known for hawking whoopie cushions and "I'm With Stupid" t-shirts in the backs of comic books. Therefore, on Christmas morning I discovered that my wish had been granted in the form of a surpassingly cheap vent figure, with head and hands made of eggshell-thin injection molded plastic and a body glued together from felt swatches. Impressively, this Dollar Store-quality version retained all the horror potential of the professional variety. Most alarming was a tiny brass ring, tied to a string of elastic, protruding directly from the crown of the doll's head. In hindsight this was obviously the cheapest possible way to secure the doll's moving jaw action. This mysterious ring was labeled with a sticker labeled "DO NOT PULL." What? WHY? My seven-year-old brain could not process this feature. What... what happens if I pull the ring? What if the ring gets pulled by accident? I taped the doll up back inside its carton and wedged it behind the toybox, secured by several layers of old clothes, and never touched it again. Later Grandma asked how I was progressing with my ventriloquist lessons. I think I told her the dog chewed the doll up or something.

Bottom line: a misguided Christmas wish resulted in doll-induced horror and caused me to lie to my own grandmother.