Each week Joe Lipsett will highlight a key scene or interaction in Don Mancini’s Chucky series to consider how the show is engaging with and contributing to queer horror.
This is the first week of my Chucky coverage that I’ve been jealous of Meagan’s reviews because the hospital horror scenes in “Just Let Go” are pretty darn exciting. But while melty-faced Chucky (Brad Dourif) double-fisting syringes into Detective Peyton (Travis Milne)’s chest to the point that his fingers bleed is highly entertaining, for our purposes, the queer horror narrative is still the one unfolding in the flashbacks.
Thanks to Devon (Bjorgvin Arnarson)’s research, the next chapter of Charles Lee Ray’s childhood is revealed. After the death of his parents, Charles was sent to a boys home where he stayed out of trouble for a few years. Then, as a fourteen year old (now played by Tyler Barish), Charles embarks on a mission of not just revenge, but also “mentorship.”
Obviously the big reveal is that Charles’ connection with a young boy at the group home is revealed to be none other than Eddie Caputo (played by Neil Giuntoli in the 1988 film). While Eddie winds up being Chucky’s accomplice and eventual murder victim in the 80s, here he’s simply a boy who shares Charles’ interest in the macabre, to the point that he willingly accepts the severed forearm of the murdered Janitor (Michael Scholar Jr) in a shoebox.
One interpretation of this development is through the lens of courtship: Chucky is wooing Eddie into a future life of crime. But there’s barely enough material here to justify that reading (perhaps we’ll see more of Eddie in the future?)
Let’s focus instead of the cultivation of homosocial relationships that Charles/Chucky covets. While in the present he’s just as interested in young Caroline (Carina Battrick) as he is in Jake (Zackary Arthur), it’s telling how easily Chucky assumes control of the all-boy troop at the group home. We see him not only commandeering story time and teaching the boys foul language, he takes them on an “adventure” into the woods to see the Janitor’s body.
The fact that Charles was reading the group Peter Pan is significant in this regard: the story is about an emotionally stunted, immature boy who collects young, impressionable boys in a make-believe world where he never has to grow up.
Thematically the choice of Peter Pan makes sense because Chucky’s world is make-believe. For Chucky, sweet talking Jake is all it will take to convince the boy to drop Lexy (Alyvia Alyn Lind) to her death. Hell, Chucky’s moral code is such that Detective Peyton’s voracious appetite merits stabbing him to death, or that Oliver deserved to die last episode because Chucky mistook him for someone else! Let’s face it: Chucky’s point of view is infantile, so Peter Pan is a perfect fit for him.
Coincidentally this isn’t the first time a Peter Pan narrative has been linked to queerness. Due to the character’s age and size, he was routinely played by a girl on-stage and according to The Atlantic, Peter is:
Eternally young; endlessly seeking adventure; brazenly living a fraught, fantastical life without grown-up interference or societal constriction—Peter Pan is the perfect character through whom society’s gender roles may be disrupted, and even abandoned. He’s more interested in killing pirates than kissing girls… Rascally and clever and devil-may-care, Peter will never reach manhood; he doesn’t want to achieve manhood.
Sound like anyone we know? Sure Chucky’s relationship with Jennifer Tilly’s Tiffany contradicts some of this, but the reality is that he’s always seemed more attracted to her murderous impulses than her physicality.
Of course the trip through the woods to see a dead body is also evocative of the homosocial world of Stephen King’s The Body (or Frank Darabont’s adaptation, Stand By Me), which positions a memorable adventure as a loss of innocence among a group of young male friends. And while this would apply more to Eddie than Charles in these flashbacks, this is a rite of passage and a new turning point for Charles: the moment he murders for himself.
Between the recent discussion about mentorship and grooming, the homosocial ties to The Body and the queer undertones of Peter Pan, it’s clear that Chucky has “a type”. The question is whether Mancini and his writers will continue to explore Charles’ childhood experiences, or whether the narrative will focus more on the present day now that Chucky has made his presence known to both Lexy and Devon.
Chucky airs Tuesdays on Syfy and USA Network. Also: Tune into this week’s Horror Queers for a punk interpretation of Peter Pan in queer director Joel Schumacher’s The Lost Boys.