Buddy, the latest cinematic endeavor from Casper Kelly, the mind behind Adult Swim's surreal hit "Too Many Cooks," arrives in theaters on August 28. The film masterfully employs the cheerful facade of children's educational programming to deliver a sharp, unsettling horror-comedy that explores darker themes lurking beneath a veneer of manufactured positivity.
Initially presenting as a lost episode of a '90s-era children's enrichment program, Buddy initially mirrors the saccharine style of shows like "Barney & Friends." The titular Buddy the Unicorn, voiced by Keegan-Michael Key, dotes on a group of children at a clubhouse, imparting seemingly innocent life lessons. This carefully crafted aesthetic, complete with a 4:3 aspect ratio and soundstage presentation, effectively establishes the film's deceptive premise. However, the cyclical nature of these episodes soon reveals Buddy's more sinister intentions, a descent into madness amplified by Key's nuanced vocal performance, which skillfully modulates between endearing sweetness and underlying menace.
The film wastes little time in establishing its core conceit and its progression. A child's early dissatisfaction with Buddy attracts the attention of Freddy, portrayed by Delaney Quinn. Quinn's performance, much like Key's, exhibits a notable control that aligns perfectly with the film's shifting tone. While other child characters have limited development, Freddy emerges as the most fleshed-out, moving beyond a simple caricature.
A Masterclass in Tone and Design
Tone is arguably Buddy's greatest strength. Kelly expertly manages the undercurrent of wickedness that gradually surfaces, a signature of his work. The film excels at weaponizing cheerful, vapid positivity into a disorienting experience. Supporting characters like Strappy (Patton Oswalt), Mr. Mailbox (Eric Bauza), and Charlie the Train (Michael Shannon) offer glimpses beyond Buddy's facade. Patton Oswalt, in particular, delivers memorable lines as Strappy, and Michael Shannon contributes a dual performance alongside a notable cameo that further enhances the film's already heightened sense of insanity.
The production design by Anna Kathleen and puppet design by Devon Hawkes Ludlow are crucial to the film's success. The vibrant primary colors and chunky, cartoonish set design strike a perfect balance between Kelly's inspirations, giving Buddy a distinct identity. Ludlow's puppets, with their appealing exteriors concealing unsettling elements, visually reinforce the film's tonal duality. The music, composed by "Too Many Cooks" songwriter Shawn Coleman, features sing-songy ditties that feel integral to the film's lineage and enhance the overall experience.
Pacing and Visuals
Despite its strengths, Buddy's early adherence to the visual language of children's shows can become repetitive, leading to pacing issues. The film's 96-minute runtime occasionally feels longer due to the narrative's focus on the children questioning their presence at Buddy's clubhouse, which in turn prompts existential considerations. This structure imparts a stop-and-start quality that can hinder the film's momentum.
While the film's tone remains remarkably steady, this clarity also draws attention to minor visual inconsistencies. The initial fullscreen 4:3 aspect ratio is intended to represent the Buddy TV show as reality, but later scenes display this same show within widescreen televisions, using a 16:9 aspect ratio. While a small detail, such high-concept films demand meticulous cohesion to maintain audience immersion.
A Journey Through Toxic Positivity
The film's narrative takes a compelling turn with the introduction of more grounded characters played by Cristin Milioti and Topher Grace in the second act. Milioti, in particular, shines as she becomes aware of Buddy's true nature, providing significant depth with her skillful performance. Her command of tone is most evident during an uncomfortable encounter with Buddy, which plunges the film into even darker territory.
In a landscape increasingly populated by "mascot horror" films, Buddy distinguishes itself by directly addressing the dangers of using toxic positivity to mask real-world issues. Although the film's trajectory becomes somewhat predictable towards the end, the journey itself—filled with Kelly's signature twists and turns—ensures that the conclusion remains satisfying.