InformationRap This is one of the few movies I've ever seen where the whole audience broke into spontaneous, loud applause a third of the way in.

Tayloriona Although I seem to have had higher expectations than I thought, the movie is super entertaining.

Sameer Callahan It really made me laugh, but for some moments I was tearing up because I could relate so much.

Myron Clemons A film of deceptively outspoken contemporary relevance, this is cinema at its most alert, alarming and alive.

Kingkitsch "Black Devil Doll From Hell" is now easily available in a two-fer package of the films by Chester N. Turner. Once an urban legend seen by few but talked about by many, BDDFH has returned to horrify everyone with witless incompetence in absolutely every way possible. This is genius work, only realized once seen.Turner dared to go where no one had gone before, except that the "possessed doll" genre had been around a long time before he got his hands on somebody's camcorder and a Casio keyboard. One thinks of the "Talky Tina" sequence from an ancient Twilight Zone episode, or the truly unsettling "Devil Doll" starring Hugo the Dummy way back in 1964. BDDFH however, goes the extra mile throwing puppet-on-human sex into the mix. You don't need to see this, but actually, you do.Helen Black (a bravura performance by Shirley L. Jones) is a prim and proper church lady who is saving herself for marriage. Her home is chockablock with religious artifacts and numerous Bibles within easy reach. She encounters a sinister shopkeeper in a thrift store who sells her a black ventriloquist dummy complete with cornrows and 50 pounds of beads on the ends of the braids. This doll has the power to grant anyone their heart's desire and then go back to the store after wreaking havoc on the current buyer. Helen, entranced, buys the puppet and takes it home. Helen, for some bizarre reason, places the puppet on the toilet. The puppet immediately spies on Helen taking a shower. Bad things begin to happen. Evidently, Helen is a sex monster under all that church veneer. The doll gives her what she wants: a serious booty call. Unpleasant but hilarious sex ensues. Helen, now given her heart's desire, goes on the prowl for real meat. Unfortunately, she's been ruined by the sweet moves and dirty talk of the puppet so real penises don't hit the spot. Unfortunately for the new improved hot pants Helen, the puppet has returned to the store. So Helen returns to the store , buys the puppet back and begs it for some lovin'. It kills her instead. Ha! She knew what she was getting into, but too late for Helen to say "no". The bad puppet is then resold to another unsuspecting victim. You run away screaming that you lost seventy some minutes of your life watching this but still tell everyone at work the next day about it.Perhaps Chester N. Turner really was an unrecognized auteur, but alas, he has vanished. BDDFH is a masterpiece of annoyance and brilliance. I defy anyone to not laugh wildly while watching this, and then not feel badly for poor Helen. By the way, the box the dummy comes in must be possessed as well, since Helen brings it from the store twice and the last buyer has it as well. Duct tape and all.

Zbigniew_Krycsiwiki Do we really need a title sequence which lasts for six minutes, forty-nine seconds? Do we really need a bone-gratingly bad metal song played over the aforementioned six minutes, forty-nine seconds-long title sequence? Do we really need to hear a five-minutes-long telephone conversation, while the camera aimlessly roams about the girl's apartment, drifting slowly in and out of focus, as if the cameraman forgot what the hell he was supposed to be filming and why? Do we really need such obnoxious, over-poweringly LOUD noises, buzzes, and hissing on the soundtrack? Buzzing noises which can make dogs start baying two blocks away? And must those ear-shattering noises accompany such ugly female nudity? Do we really need to see this woman repeatedly getting boned by the doll that she bears an uncanny resemblance to? What was the purpose of the still-photographs used during the attack scenes? Was it to conceal the crappy effects? And if the doll keeps returning to the same Thrift Store by itself, why the hell doesn't the Thrift store worker just get rid of the bloody haunted thing? None of these questions, and less, may ever be answered, even by the few people who have the tolerance to endure this putrid example of shot-on-video horror. Not that it matters, but this is basically a one-person story, about the title object terrorising a pug fugly woman in her house. Well, actually it was probably filmed in Chester Novell Turner's house, on Chester Novell Turner's camcorder, written by Chester Novell Turner, directed by Chester Novell Turner, produced by Chester Novell Turner, edited by Chester Novell Turner, scored by Chester Novell Turner, with sound effects by Chester Novell Turner, featuring friends of Chester Novell Turner, and probably distributed by Chester Novell Turner, who handed copies of this to random passersby on the street, and leaving copies of it in local video stores, and perhaps anonymously mailing copies to people he didn't like. It is kind of admirable, really, that this goofball had the commitment to actually see something like this through, and that he could actually persuade his friends to be in, and work on, a film like this, and see it through fruition. But really, it is an awful monstrosity of a so-bad-it's-good movie. Chester Novell Turner's friend David Ichikawa provides what is quite possibly the worst song in the history of recorded music, until that little toilet-bug Damon Fox came along nine years later with "his" Traces of Death. The Simpsons tackled this same basic premise far more effectively (and funnier) eight years later, in the 'Klown Without Pity' segment of Treehouse Of Horrors III. Watch that instead.

dbborroughs Shot on video monstrosity about a repressed deeply religious black woman who buys a ventriloquist dummy with dreadlocks that happens to be possessed. The Dummy seduces her and then takes her over turning her into a sex fiend.As they say you have to see it to believe it. Obviously the intent was to make a serious film about the fall from grace, yadda yadda yadda, but the result is painful, Mostly because scenes run on and on and on with no end in sight. We get a long phone conversation while the camera pans around the house showing all the religious items in it. The opening credits take almost 7 minutes of screen time (thats about one tenth the length of the film). The music is awful. And the sex scenes...well did you ever want to know what it would look like if Charlie Mc Carthy ever managed to marry a real live girl? Yea, me neither. This is a painful film that is only recommended for seasoned bad movie lovers or mental patients, preferably people who are both. This walks that fine line between MST3K good bad and mind destroying bad.You've been warned.

Woodyanders WARNING: The following comment doesn't not only contain a spoiler or two, but also content of a frank and explicit nature that shouldn't be read by easily offended folks with no sense of humor. There are bad movies, even worse movies, truly wretched movies -- and then there's this gloriously ghastly no-budget shot-on-crummy-video abomination. Don't get me wrong, I really love this lousy hunk of junk, but let's face it this one on every conceivable technical level is beyond shoddy. The terrible acting, dreadful sound, annoyingly redundant score, eye-wateringly ugly cinematography, ludicrously absurd plot, meandering pace, and especially that amazingly awful theme song ("Ohh ohh baby, you've been bad!") -- all are sublimely stinky. But what definitely makes this baby a genuinely unforgettable viewing experience is the infamously mind-numbing protracted and surrealistic rape scene. The devil doll not just has his wicked wanton way with our devoutly religious and sexually frustrated homely heroine; he also makes the dumpy lady beg for it prior to doing the evil deed. I can't precisely write what she says, but I can state with absolute certainty that one particular word that she doesn't hiss through clenched teeth sure ain't "fudge." I love this movie just for this sequence alone -- and so should all true fans of supremely sick mondo wacko dimestore deviant cinema. Fortunately, this wondrously woeful abortion has been issued on DVD for future generations to watch and relish in all its appalling ineptitude.