Bride Of Chucky review

Chucky Doll, his shattered face crudely held together with big black stitches, dashes across a pavement and realises too late that there's a spliffed-up teenager in a car gazing at him. Chucky grins and gives him the finger before scuttling off. "Rude fucking doll," drawls the stoner.

Bride Of Chucky is this brash and crude and obvious all the way through, so whether you'll enjoy it depends on whether you're in touch enough with your inner naughty schoolboy side to think that obscene hand gestures from a puppet are funny. But that's the beauty of it - knowing that fans of Shakespeare In Love will stay away in droves means the film's been tailor-made for teenagers who fancy a mindless, heavy metal-fuelled, non-stop romp of Grand Guignol belly laughs and over-the-top splatter.

The gags - in both comic and nauseating senses - come thick and fast and keep on getting grimmer and messier. And, just in case you're uncertain as to whether it's trying to be scary or funny, a car accident where the victim goes off like an overripe melon grenade should decide. This is shock-horror for laughs, and no depth of unpleasantness is left unplumbed in the hunt for that next nervous giggle.

Miraculously though, it doesn't offend because the basic premise is just so damn silly. One maniac doll clutching a variety of knives and power tools is daft enough, but by the time Tiffany joins Chucky in plastic form, their Mickey and Mallory road-movie kill spree is so ludicrous that you have to laugh. Killings, explosions and yes, even a bit of naked toy sex: it's all in here.

So after three miserably poor movies, Chucky the doll is finally starring in a good one. Thanks to a slightly lighter shade of black humour and the inevitable influence of Scream, there's a sequel to look forward to.