Black Devil Doll From Hell (1984)

Having produced and directed a film on an invisible budget back in 2006, it was particularly fascinating to see how somebody else coped with a similar challenge in 1984 when Black Devil Doll from Hell was unleashed upon a completely unsuspecting and thoroughly unprepared world. Shot on what appears to be a prehistoric first-generation camcorder, the film looks rougher than the sleaziest direct-to-video pornography of the era. Yet somehow it remains weirdly compelling. Perhaps it is the sheer audacity of its awfulness, or perhaps it is that spellbindingly dreadful Casio keyboard score that becomes increasingly irresistible the longer it assaults the ears.

Dare to watch? Go ahead. Click.

The film opens with a middle-aged, rather frumpy Bible-preaching African-American woman being approached by a young man attempting to sell what are very obviously stolen goods from what is no doubt a stolen vehicle. She refuses his generous offers, explaining that theft is the Devil’s work and that she is a righteous woman guided by Scripture. Just to hammer the point home, the next twenty minutes largely consist of a telephone conversation with a more worldly friend who is trying her level best to get the Bible Woman laid, only to find herself instead being persuaded to attend church the following Sunday.

One morning our virtuous heroine wanders into a local thrift shop where she encounters an especially ugly black doll that bears a striking resemblance to Stevie Wonder. The shopkeeper explains that the doll possesses strange powers and has repeatedly returned to the store despite being sold several times previously. Each owner has supposedly experienced terrible misfortune before the doll mysteriously found its way back to the shelves.

Upon hearing this remarkable story, Bible Woman erupts into hysterical laughter and openly mocks both the shopkeeper and his hideous doll. Then, for reasons known only to the screenplay, she abruptly changes her mind and purchases the thing anyway. Returning home, she places it beside a pink furry rabbit and proceeds to carry on with her daily routine, which appears to consist largely of taking an extraordinary number of showers.

The doll, it would seem, finds this activity highly stimulating.

Before long, the demonic puppet springs into action, attacks its new owner, ties her up and proceeds to rape her. This traumatic experience has an unexpected side effect. The once-devout Bible Woman is transformed into a ravenous nymphomaniac who begins prowling the streets in search of men capable of satisfying desires that have suddenly awakened within her.

Unfortunately, none of the flesh-and-blood hunks she drags home seem capable of competing with the puppet that corrupted her in the first place. To make matters worse, the doll soon vanishes entirely.

Driven by desperation, she eventually returns to the thrift shop and discovers that, true to form, the doll has somehow returned there once again. The shopkeeper insists she must purchase it all over again. Such is her desperation that she gladly pays up and rushes home for another encounter.

This time, however, the doll has plans of its own.

Will the Bible Beauty rediscover her righteous path? Can Jesus rescue her from the clutches of the Black Devil Doll? Or will she remain forever trapped in a haze of puppet-induced lust?

Despite possessing a long-standing affection for zero-budget atrocities from around the globe, I had absolutely no idea this monstrosity even existed until a visit to the home of legendary cult filmmaker Frank Henenlotter in New York City during the summer of 2007. While listening to Frank recount his filmmaking adventures and sipping a Coke, my attention drifted towards his magnificent collection of dubious VHS tapes.

Among the treasures was a tape bearing the irresistible title Black Devil Doll from Hell.

Not only did it possess one of the greatest titles ever conceived, but the artwork immediately evoked memories of the fabulous Zuni Doll segment from Trilogy of Terror. Naturally, curiosity got the better of me.

When I asked Frank about it, he cheerfully pulled it from the shelf and handed me a copy.

The rest is history.

I genuinely believed I had already witnessed the absolute depths of cinematic incompetence through the works of Ed Wood, The Creeping Terror, Mesa of Lost Women and countless other disasters. Nothing, however, prepared me for Black Devil Doll from Hell.

This film makes Drive-In Massacre, Don’t Go in the Woods Alone and dozens of other notorious drive-in disasters resemble lavish Hollywood productions by comparison. The acting, photography, sound, editing and music all combine into a perfect storm of incompetence unlike anything I have encountered before or since.

Quite simply, this film redefines crap.

Yet it does so with tremendous enthusiasm, admirable determination and a surprising amount of nerve. The result is something so catastrophically awful that it becomes essential viewing for collectors of schlock, exploitation and cinematic train wrecks.

Black Devil Doll from Hell is not merely a bad movie.

It is an experience.

A baffling, astonishing, mind-bendingly horrendous experience that deserves a place in the collection of every self-respecting connoisseur of Grade-A rubbish.

Shirly L. Jones delivers what may well be one of the most unforgettable performances ever committed to videotape. One waits in vain for Hollywood to recognise her genius.

Essential viewing for anyone with an interest in true schlock and quite possibly the single worst cinematic atrocity ever witnessed by these weary eyes. The film is almost rejuvenating in its awfulness. Seek it out immediately. Life may never be the same afterwards.

As for the music score, words fail me entirely. The Casio-powered soundtrack must be heard to be believed. Describing it would be like attempting to explain colour to a goldfish.

“Howdyalikethat, Bitch?” remains one of cinema’s great unanswered questions.