'Puppet Master: The Littlest Reich' Is A Rare Horror Remake Superior To The Original [Review]

Even if you’re not a huge fan of horror films, you may remember 1989’s “Puppet Master.” You may remember walking down the New Release aisle of your local video store (RIP) and seeing a blue box with malicious, weapon-toting puppets on the cover. What you may not realize is that the film — essentially the foundation of Charles Band’s Full Moon Features empire of low-budget, straight-to-video horror, sci-fi, and fantasy — has spawned 11 sequels, the last of which (“Puppet Master: Axis Termination”) was just released last year. Reboots (or reimagining’s, or re-quels, or legacyquels) happen much quicker than they used to, but a year apart from a continuing series has to be a new kind of record.

Truth be told, even those who are a fan of the original “Puppet Master” (such as this critic) probably aren’t too nostalgic for this series. Blade and the other puppets don’t have the same cultural cache as Freddy Kruger or Jason Voorhees. No one saw the original film and said, “Because of ‘Puppet Master,’ I fell in love with horror movies.” (And if you are a person who actually did — absolutely zero judgment — we would love to hear from you). If nothing else, it’s a charming relic that proved that there’s no shame in making a straight-to-video horror movie. Unfortunately, all the sequels beyond “Puppet Master II” reinstated that shame.

All of this makes “Puppet Master: The Littlest Reich” such a fascinating item. Just when it seemed that all story possibilities revolving killer marionette puppets had been exhausted, directors Sonny Laguna and Tommy Wiklund (“Wither,” “Animalistic”) — aided by a very solid script by S. Craig Zahler (“Bone Tomahawk,” “Brawl in Cell Block 99”) — come to the series’ rescue with an actual original take. A take that moves the series from its slasher roots to become a straight-up exploitation film that delivers grisly thrills while also having a thought or two in its head.

The prologue starts in 1989, where puppet master and devoted Nazi Andre Toulon (Udo Kier) is killed in a firefight with the cops after one of his puppets murders two lesbian women driving home from a bar. Cut to present day, where aspiring comic book artist (and comic book shop worker) Edgar (Thomas Lennon) moves back in with his parents after a divorce. In his brother’s old room, he discovers a puppet that his brother had once brought back from a sleepaway camp. Strapped for cash, he looks to sell the puppet at an auction at the Toulon House, where a convention is being held to celebrate the 30th Anniversary of the Toulon Murders. Along with his new girlfriend Ashley (Jenny Pellicer) and his boss Markowitz (Nelson Franklin), they take a road trip to sell the puppet. When they get there, they quickly find out that they’re not the only ones who brought a puppet to sell, and those puppets start coming to life and target minorities as they carry out their hateful agenda.

While the film carries the “Puppet Master” branding, along with Blade, Torch, and many of the other puppets that have been seen through the series, ‘The Littlest Reich’ has more in common with Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead” than it does the series’ previous entries. The majority of the film takes place inside or around the one hotel, and it ultimately becomes a siege movie, with the various tenants and tourists having to band together to fend off these small killing machines. It also fits into ‘Living Dead’s’ socially-conscious bent and seems especially prescient watching it mere days after the second (and laughably small, but terrifying regardless) “Unite the Right” march. Edgar gives a monologue about why Toulon designed these puppets with his despicable agenda, that they are small, easy to blend in and strike when you least expect it. It’s a surprisingly eerie alt-right parable, as we can spot the Swastika-tattooed skinheads from a mile away, but it’s the ones that hide in plain sight that are the most frightening.

“The Littlest Reich” confronts us with subtext about real-world horrors and creates a structure in which it places the viewer’s own violence fetish on trial, but the film’s complete go-for-broke practical effects occasionally butt heads with the aforementioned themes. And dammit, are these over-the-top, gory-as-all-hell moments entertaining in and of themselves. But what makes this contradiction work is the film’s assured sense of tone and bringing it back to the real fear instilled in the characters, and the actors ride that tonal wave to complete perfection. Lennon’s dry line delivery and sad-sack demeanor are perfect for the would-be hero Edgar. The actions snap him out of a funk and call him to action, but it’s action he’s not necessarily suited for.

The supporting players are all-around great, and everyone gets their little moment to shine. Pellicer and Franklin — rounding out the core trio — are perfect counterpoints to Edgar and play off of him well. The great Barbara Crampton — who was briefly in the original “Puppet Master” — plays a police officer who was involved with the raid on Toulon’s mansion and owns the role. Michael Paré shows up as a tough-as-nails detective and does solid work. The scene-stealer Skeeta Jenkins as Cuddly Bear, the hotel bartender who strikes up a terrific rapport with Markowitz and provides solid comic relief throughout the film’s grislier scenes.

Like Carpenter’s “The Thing” and Cronenberg’s “The Fly,” “Puppet Master: The Littlest Reich” is the rare horror remake that manages to be superior to the original. To avoid hyperbole by throwing out big, beloved titles like those, it goes without saying that the bar for remaking “Puppet Master” is not as high as “The Thing From Another World” or “The Fly.” However, saying that isn’t a high bar should not diminish the feats that ‘The Littlest Reich’ does accomplish. By bringing in a strong screenwriter, hungry filmmakers with a vision, and a cast and crew who care deeply for the work (can’t believe we got this far into the review without mentioning that legendary Lucio Fulci collaborator Fabio Frizzi did the score), you get the recipe for a delightful and deranged modern-day exploitation film that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but somehow, asks you to take it more seriously than you might have otherwise. And it works. The film concludes with an interesting, yet frustrating sequel-feeding ending (and somewhat abruptly, giving it more unexpected weight), and in this instance, it’s a sequel that should happen. [B]