Review: DOLLY Is Well Worth Playing With
What would you do if you were alone in the remote Tennessee woods and stumbled upon a large, masked person crying in the middle of hundreds of dirty, broken dolls? If you’re Sean William Scott’s character in Dolly, you go right up to that person, tap them on the shoulder, and attempt to communicate with them. And then you get lifted up by the neck, as if you’re a Darth Vader victim, and get hit repeatedly by a shovel.
Listen, it’s not an actual issue I have with the movie, which just had its world premiere at Fantastic Fest 2025, and is actually a refreshing sort of slasher – I am more than willing to suspend disbelief – but Dolly does bring up an interesting personal point: just how far would I go in this situation? If I woke up in a cradle, wearing doll clothes, and trapped in a decrepit house in the Tennessee back country… would I be able to “play along with it” long enough to set myself free?
That’s the central conceit of Dolly, written and directed by Rod Blackhurst (Blood for Dust, writer of Night Swim): There is an emotionally stunted, supernaturally strong being in the woods who, more than anything, wants to be a mother. The depths they have gone in order to achieve that goal, however, get rather gruesome.
Dolly starts with Sean William Scott’s character Chase dropping his daughter off at her aunt’s house, so that he and his girlfriend Macy (played incredibly well by Fabienne Therese) can go on a romantic long hike together. Chase is ready to propose, and Macy is hyper-aware of that fact. There is an interesting moment of reflection here: is she really ready to be a stepmother? Macy doesn’t have long to ponder because, before Chase gets down on one knee, he goes to investigate what they deem as a “weird art project” (again, I get it, but come on, Stiffler).
From there we arrive back at the moment questioned at the top of the review: Dolly lifts Chase lifted high above their head, cracking his neck, and leaving him for dead. And Macy is taken captive, carried back to Dolly’s familial home in the middle of the woods, and placed in a crib. Now in a clean nursery, Macy awakens wearing a frilly dress, encouraged by a male voice in the wall to just “play along.” Macy’s time as a human doll has begun.
Sure, there will be comparisons made to The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (the family dynamic, the stunted killer in a mask, the graininess of the cinematography), but it really does morph into its own thing after 30 minutes. The, er, Tennessee Chainsaw Massacre (credits proudly boast that it was filmed in Chattanooga, adding some lush-ness to the effort) begins to layer in some legitimate “oh my god” moments that punctuate the brisk 87 minute runtime. In this modern world of sometimes more… esoteric horror (which I really do love), it is nice to get back to basics: let’s twist things up and get less allegorical and more in-your-face. Refreshing!
Let me be up front: There is also quite a bit more… piss play than I expected in Dolly. Don’t get me wrong, I could have maybe guessed there would be a little, but then the filmmaker goes and adds the diaper and spanking stuff too. That is all to say that the actual horror in the movie goes beyond the righteous gore (although, believe me, there is definitely righteous gore) and becomes situational; as Macy dives further and further into the Stockholm Syndrome of it all, you do occasionally wonder how far gone she is. Even basic torture tropes take on an interesting glean when put into this mindset, with her cries of despair echoing that of an actual toddler. There is definite regression on the part of Macy as her captivity continues. And there are genuine moments of compassion from the hulking Dolly, cradling her “plaything,” even stitching her near-severed ear back up like a toy that she accidentally broke.
There is obviously an effort to make “Dolly” work as a modern slasher icon, a building-an-Art-the-Clown up from scratch. And, in most cases, it works: the doll head is rather creepy (and mixed with great sound design effects that really accentuate the idea that the mask is actually made of porcelain). Clad in an almost Santa Claus-esque red and white outfit, Max the Impaler really does an interesting job making sure Dolly’s mannerisms remain consistent, interesting and startling. The audience never knows exactly how Dolly will react, and that’s a plus.
While Sean William Scott and Ethan Suplee (whose character name “Tobe” is perhaps a bit on the nose) are the more familiar faces in the film, both serving as producers, their presence also adds a lot to the overall endeavor. You can tell it’s something they’re excited about, especially Scott, who I truthfully only expected to be in the first part of the movie. Suplee’s character becomes a bit of a wild card in the film, again adding to the TCM comparisons (although the performance leans a little more TCM 2).
Credits reveal some interesting choices by the filmmakers, a wink in the soundtrack that maybe I wasn’t tonally expecting. But I appreciate a horror film that goes well beyond just paint-by-numbers reverence to a long-established genre. Dolly is most everything you’re looking for in a modern slasher.
