This episode of Chucky sees the eponymous killer doll working overtime, from telling his origin story, mentoring his new conflicted pupil, and going to a sleepover, it’s a wonder how he did it all himself.

He hadn’t even had to do it all himself since he had his doppelgänger—doll-pelgänger—but it seemed that one had somehow snuck in and hidden under a bed the entire time, but it seems the second Chucky only shows up on special, near death occasions, so the heavy lifting was still up to the original Chucky (Brad Dourif, Halloween), though he seemed more than happy to do the work, even when he complained about having to finish what Jake (Zackary Arthur, Transparent) couldn’t start.

Speaking of, it seemed that the final scene of the previous episode wasn’t meant to be an episode opening twist where Jake turns on Chucky and stabs him with a knife. Instead, Jake channels his inner Luke Skywalker and listens to his small, strange-talking creature teacher as he learns the ways of the murderer and prepares to follow in his noticeably smaller footsteps; all he needed were the Gucci boots from Return of the Jedi and he’d be set.

While he didn’t get the Gucci boots, Jake did get Chucky to tell him his origin story of who he first killed, and whatever tips, tricks, and hacks he had. This was where, to start, Chucky pointed out that he did have a soft spot for strangulation—as he should, considering he was known as the Lakeshore Strangler back in his human days—but with his tiny doll hands that don’t even close fully, he had to resort to other means, and it’s later revealed why he has such a fondness for knives amongst the countless other objects to choose from.

This is also where it’s revealed that he describes murder in a very romantic way with all the various romance terminology with drastically different subtexts. This isn’t a huge surprise considering he’s a serial killer, many of whom found sexual satisfaction out of their brutal murders, though that’s not quite the case with Chucky; he’s caught between viewing murder as an art and as a whirlwind romance, it’s both disturbing and entertaining from a morbid viewer’s standpoint.

The flashbacks are told throughout the episode in shorter chunks which makes it feel longer than it actually is.

In full, Chucky tells the story of his birthday and how, on the radio, it was announced that a murderer was on the loose and for people to lock their doors and get inside before dark. That night, the unnamed Intruder (Christopher Cordell, Titans) breaks in and kills Peter Ray (Andrew Butcher, Carter) whose final breath is used to tell his young son to run. Elizabeth Ray (Marisa McIntyre, PAW Patrol) wakes up and takes Young Charles (David Kohlsmith, Shazam!) to hide in the bedroom, though the boy swipes a Swiss army knife from the dresser just as they pass.

Despite telling her son to be quiet, Elizabeth’s body proceeds to display no self-preservation instincts as she loudly sobs and alerts the killer right to them. While it had initially seemed that Charles was going to use his knife to protect himself and his mother, in the few seconds it takes the intruder to take a step forward and pull open the closet doors, Charles has slit his mother’s throat and positioned himself with a cute pose and smile better suited for the photographer of a Sear’s catalog rather than for the man who just killed his father, but it seems Charles had other ideas.

Impressed by this child whose first instinct is to announce that he helped, the intruder compliments Charles and wipes the blood off the Swiss army knife with the pro-tip that the first rule of killing is to always cover your tracks. He then leaves the house and wanders out into the night, leaving Charles Lee Ray to be prosecuted for both parents’ murders rather than just his mother’s—which is why Devon (Bjorgvin Arnarson, The Seventh Day) referred to them as the “Ray Family Murders” in episode one—and gives the boy enough of a push to act on his darker impulses and go from knowingly biting into apples filled with razorblades to widespread killing.

It’s because of this first kill with his mother that, despite being known as the Lakeshore Strangler, he has such a soft spot for knives and uses them even when he could still strangle people—as he even did with Lexy at the end of the episode, which goes to show that, despite his tiny hands, he can if he really wants to—because they remind him of his first time which, according to him, “You never forget,” and since he’s in such a small form, maybe it reminds him of when he was a kid.

It’d be sweet if it wasn’t so horrifying.

Half a century later, the student has become the teacher, though Jake is a much harder learn than Charles was, probably because he’s not predisposed to violence and, as a teenager, has just begun to develop a sense of empathy which, however minimal it may be—just look at Lexy (Alyvia Alyn Lind, The Young and the Restless) for proof on how potentially little—it’s more than enough to keep him from acting, not just out of fear of consequence like the way children do, but also inner turmoil and guilt.

However, despite his reservations, that doesn’t stop him from listening to Chucky’s advice and actively trying to kill Lexy. From tracking her phone to kill her on her usual jogging path in the secluded woods to trying out different gardening tools in his garage to see what feels best to even stabbing a new sculpture made of dolls in her likeness until it bleeds jellybeans all over the floor that Annie can no longer clean because she’s dead.

Despite his two attempts to kill her, though, he couldn’t go through with either, which would make sense regardless considering he had stopped Chucky who was just moments from stabbing her, which was after her little stunt mocking his father’s death; speaking of which, Mrs. Fairchild (Annie Briggs, Wharf Rats) said that a student had brought the circulating videos and pictures of her costume to her attention, and while it could have been anyone, even Devon, the true culprit of justice may actually have been Junior (Teo Briones, Ratched) who had demanded Lexy apologize to Jake for crossing a severe amount of lines.

That scene actually connects heavily to the two failed murder attempts, as the first attempt was when Jake was tracking Lexy’s phone to kill her during her jog through the secluded woods—very reminiscent of the first opening scene of NBC’s Grimm, of all things, though it’s most likely referencing far more relevant horror content—but stops short when it’s revealed that the jogger in a baby blue hoodie and basketball shorts over leggings isn’t Lexy but actually Junior, who understandably panicked at being rushed by his cousin because, regardless of how sketchy Jake had already been acting, being chased down in any situation is terrifying in of itself.

It’s revealed later in the scene where he tells Lexy to apologize that he had been bringing her phone back to her, probably because she had dropped it on her jog, though the only reasonable explanation for their matching outfits was because she bought them to match for whatever reason and they are comfortable clothes.

Not to mention, this show pay close attention to detail when it comes to everything, especially what the character’s wear since those help inform who they are visually.

Jake wears art grunge, both because of his more unsettling art style and possibly the need to shop at thrift stores; Devon wears preppy varsity jackets and comfortable sports-adjacent wear since, while he’s a true crime nerd who plays the piano, he’s still popular; Lexy wears fashionable clothes more reminiscent of women in their late thirties, similar to her mother, rather than clothes her own age; Oliver wears jeans and a hoodie because he’s a straight white boy in middle school; and Junior wears cardigans, long shorts, and soft tones because he’s sensitive.

Lexy and Jake have been clear foils since day one, which is also accentuated by their outfits, and the most indicative example of that is Jake’s second murder attempt when Lexy goes to his house to “apologize”; i.e. get enough brownie points to make Jake feel obligated to do whatever she wants.

They’re visually different, with Jake in darker tones and contrasting to both Lexy’s brightness and the overall energy of wealth that comes from both her and his aunt and uncle’s home. This is meant to signify that he doesn’t fit in with them, but specifically that he and Lexy are as different as they can be.

Except that they’re not; not really. Rather, they’re two sides of the same coin, thus being foils, because while their socioeconomic statuses are vastly different, along with a plethora of other things, they both have less than ideal home lives and show signs of vulnerability when hurt, especially when they’re alone. Lexy even says that, when she’s upset, she hurts people, which is coincidentally what Jake himself tries to do the moment before she says so, though he stops himself when she turns back to face him—he makes a good point to Chucky that killing her in the garage would’ve been a horrible choice.

The difference between the two is that, while they’re both hurting, they choose different paths. When Lexy hurts, she takes it out on the poor, gay kid and dresses up as his dead dad to mock his accidental death. When Jake hurts, he tries to do whatever he can to get over it since he has no real agency, and was only given this violent option when Chucky came into the picture. Not to mention, Jake’s sense of empathy is far more developed than Lexy’s, and while it’s not surprising since they’re both in the year where it starts to make larger developments, it’s still important to note that the mayor’s daughter thinks an apology is a form of transaction, can’t comprehend taking accountability or facing the consequences of her actions, and thinks a variation of “I’m sorry you got upset,” is an acceptable apology.

The point is, all the characters in this show are layered and sympathetic, even and especially Lexy, because it’s meant to touch on the grey area of reality and Chucky’s concept of, “some people deserve to die,” (which he doesn’t actually believe) and counter his very clear evil antagonist character, as was depicted in the flashbacks; no matter how good he is at rationalizing to Jake now, the soul in that doll was born bad and he admits it himself.

While unlikely, considering her natural inclination towards hurting people, and Jake’s burgeoning desire to do the same, they could wind up as an alternate Chucky and Tiffany, a type of Bonnie and Clyde duo with the twist that they hate each other and would sooner take the knives to each other’s throats if they weren’t so good at working together. It would be an interesting dynamic to play with, but considering Jake’s clear remorse at the end of this episode, it seems his blood lust was short lived.

Lexy’s character herself is fascinating and a rather unique take on the “mean girl” trope, especially for slashers. She truly seems to be horrible for no reason, though it also seems to be because of her parents and how inept they are, but she’s not a horrible person at all times—she is, arguably, a horrible person in general. When Junior told her to apologize and tried to explain to her why what she did was fucked up, she was combative and seemed incapable of seeing reason. However, when Caroline needed Chucky, she went over to Jake and, while she definitely didn’t display any real remorse or comprehension of why she had to apologize, she put her sister before her own selfish pride.

Caroline actually brings out the best in Lexy and is the crux of the bully’s softer, human side, which makes it all the more brutal that Chucky takes advantage of that.

As shown, Lexy’s parents don’t know how to properly interact with either of their daughters, not knowing how to treat Caroline who has some form of autism from the context clues given. Lexy is the only one who treats her like a person rather than a china doll, but is understanding of her needs, having been the one to remind her parents what her comfort items are and actually asked her what she needed rather than treating her like a loud speaker with a missing remote.

When Jake brings Chucky over to Lexy’s house singing a different tune—though he does hesitate when he realizes that Caroline will be in close proximity with Chucky—Lexy genuinely thanks him as it means a lot to her sister, whose happiness and comfort clearly mean a lot to her. Of course, she follows up by asserting that they’re not friends and Jake wholeheartedly agrees, and while it could be argued that it’s just a cover to protect herself and her image, there’s a part of Lexy that most likely isn’t kind and she probably doesn’t have to try too hard to be mean, as is the case with characters like her in other media.

If anything, the fact that Lexy’s one soft spot is for Caroline makes her more compelling because even the worst people have one person or thing that are the exception to the rule. We see that when Lexy agrees to hug Chucky despite absolutely loathing him because, while also pressured by her parents, she knows that this is a big step for Caroline and rejecting the hug could be catastrophic.

No matter how awful Lexy was and still is, it’s undeniable that the scene where Caroline hugs her for the first time was beautiful.

From the pilot it had seemed Lexy and her sister hated each other, and while Lexy still calls her “brat” and finds her annoying at times, she doesn’t bully or terrorize her, nor does she ever take out the frustrations she has for her parents out on Caroline, who is the easiest and most likely target.

While she shouldn’t take it out on anyone at all, Lexy’s depth and soft side, however minuscule it may be, helps humanize her and show the clear fallacy in Chucky’s assertion that some people just deserve to die. All his arguments have clear plot holes, but the point isn’t just to disprove his claims and ask why he gets to be the one to decide a person’s worth, but it’s also to play into his claim and let the viewer know that, for all Lexy is horrible, she doesn’t deserve to die.

She deserves to be punished and face relevant and equal consequences for her actions, as well as a good amount of counseling, but she doesn’t deserve to die under the vague terms Chucky has given.

Chucky’s relationship with Caroline could have been far more insidious than it is, with Chucky convincing Caroline to kill Lexy for him, and while he could still definitely pin the murder on her, it seems he’s truly using her more as a cover than as a pawn, which led to a very nice reference to Child’s Play when Caroline said, “I didn’t say it, Chucky did!” just like Andy Barclay had.

Speaking of Andy Barclay references, Detective Evans (Rachelle Casseus, Running with Violet) made a great one when pointing out that wherever Jake goes death follows, which has been said of Andy over the first three Child’s Play films. Despite that, while Bree (Alexandra Doig, Arrow) and Logan (Devon Sawa, Somewhere Between) had been affected in the previous episode, no one seemed to be on her side in this episode, with Mrs. Fairchild defending Jake and Devon, despite insisting that he doesn’t know Jake well, fights his mother’s insistence that she stay away from him and promises to prove Jake is innocent.

After this, as well as his scene with Jake by his locker where he admits that he wishes he could just protect him then asks if he’ll see him later, it looks like Devon cares a lot more about Jake than he’s fully aware of, and makes it all the more crucial that Jake snap out of his vengeful state and keep his hands clean, if only so Devon doesn’t wind up being wrong about him and getting hurt when it’s revealed that Jake is a murderer; he still hasn’t done anything, so at most he’s an attempted murderer, and it’s best to keep it that way.

However, even though Devon found great issue with Lexy’s stunt at the Halloween party, he still went to her silent dance party just days later, which raises some questions, especially since it’s not yet clear why he secretly recorded his and Jake’s conversation in order to take copious notes on it. Hopefully it’ll be revealed that he was actually there to gather intel on Lexy to help Jake’s case, but considering he danced with her and was still bopping by the time the house caught on fire and Oliver was long dead, it may be some time before his thought process is revealed, if it ever is, as it’s up in the air whether anyone actually survives.

Speaking of, that silent dance party was very fun and a great nod to the franchise’s more comedic installments before it had returned to its darker, more traditionally scary roots in Curse of Chucky, as the techno music amidst the screams of fear and anguish, with Oliver’s death happening directly behind everyone, was hilarious, but managed to balance the comedic elements without ruining the more horrific aspects; the same goes for when Chucky had to cut himself out of the covers because he was “as snug as a fuckin’ bug,” as the humor transitioned seamlessly back into dread as the butcher knife slid up the covers and freed him, which has the same energy as a kid being murdered and a house catching fire with everyone too busy dancing to notice.

Additionally, that plot device of everyone being unaware could have been a “damn these kids and their technology” scene, but it didn’t come across that way, but instead came across as the reality of people, especially kids, trusting the safety of familiar environments and not being able to fathom such horrific events happening just outside their notice, as well as the reality of modern age; after all, a silent dance party to make sure there aren’t any noise complaints is a genius move to pull when hosting a party, so it’s very forward thinking to have it as it’s both a plot device and reasonably believable given that Lexy’s mom is the mayor and probably has access to the kind of equipment for silent dance parties to begin with.

The final scenes were honestly a rollercoaster, with doll-pelgänger Chucky wielding a butcher’s knife and laughing maniacally at a nearly strangled Lexy as the curtains behind him go up in flames, the party of teens dancing without a clue of what’s going on, and Jake crying at his parents’ graves in the cemetery as everything goes down with no way to verify his alibi and setting him up as a pretty solid suspect considering the fire started at Lexy’s house right after he let her have his doll.

Of course, nothing is set in stone, but with Jake’s remorse and lack of alibi, Detective Evan’s suspicions—along with her protectiveness over Devon who was caught in the crossfire (literally)—and Chucky’s actions clearly indicating that he kills anyone and everyone rather than just those who deserve it, things are definitely going to get interesting as new lines are drawn and more information is revealed.

Rating: 9/10