If you were one of the lucky ones to grow up with Barney & Friends (1992-2010), you might be one of the many who walked away with fond memories, catchy songs, and life lessons. Somewhere along that journey, however, these childhood shows stopped being cute and appropriate and became downright cringey and causes for eyebrow raises. In his latest feature, Buddy, director Casper Kelly raises suspicion on those joyous memories with a horror twist. Dismantling the perfect image of childhood shows, Kelly cuts through the propaganda in children’s entertainment with satire, wit, and style.
The story follows a group of amnesiac children who are trapped in a television program featuring a bright orange, fury unicorn (voiced by a delightfully crazed Keegan-Michael Key) named Buddy. Yes… you read that correctly. This unicorn or “king of fun and games” with a giant purple heart on his belly can’t wait until the kids say, “I love you,” ending each episode with powerful hugs and song. It’s an environment full of positivity and vibrant colors to teach kids how to tackle big emotions.
Buddy is unhinged entertainment in all the best ways.
In the first episode, the children get invited to an exciting party, where it’s fully expected that they’ll be busting some moves. Freddy (Delaney Quinn) and Wade (Caleb Williams) are thrilled to show up and show out with their dance skills. But when Buddy (Sergey Zhuravsky in costume) presents the idea to Josh (Luke Speakman), a young boy who’s more interested in reading than dancing, things go south. First, Buddy shares the importance of conquering his fears of dancing. However, it’s clear that Josh isn’t afraid of dancing, he simply does not want to, much to Buddy’s dismay.
What started out as a happy kids show quickly turns into a long, nightmarish episode of terror. Buddy proceeds to have a “long talk” with Josh off screen to get him to reconsider. Yet the audience knows something unhinged occurs. Besides the fact that the animated mailbox looks extremely concerned, it’s later revealed at the party that Josh suddenly goes off on tour to dance. Meanwhile, his favorite book has been trashed with red paint splattered all over it—at least according to Buddy.
Kelly & King’s script reminds us of the importance of human interaction over screen time.
It goes without saying, but Buddy is the unhinged version of all our beloved childhood shows, wrapped in a gift box of cheesiness, cringe, and chaos. My favorite part about Kelly and Jamie King’s script is how it isn’t afraid to rely on the tidiness of childhood entertainment while questioning its intent through a satirical and horror lens. These shows have always served the purpose of encouraging kids to address their fears, challenge their assumptions, and embrace their emotions. Yet, there’s an underlying feeling that these shows were also made to teach kids how to be or how they should think and feel.
That level of control (if you want to call it that) does come off well-intended. But in hindsight, and as nicely crafted throughout Buddy, this approach results in more screen time for kids and less time for them to form their own thoughts and ideas under the guidance of their parents. The screentime almost serves as comfort for kids (and adults if I’m being truthful), leading to a world where reliance on messages through a screen become more prevalent than human interaction.
Whether or not I’m thinking too deeply about this is a side conversation worth having some other time. The fact is that even if we eliminate this type of commentary from the film, Buddy is downright entertaining, plain and simple. It contains a nice balance of nostalgia, satire, and horror in all the ways you’d expect and want from a film that riffs on childhood entertainment. And if for nothing else, add the film to your watchlist for some cool vocal performances that lean into unhinged territories in all the right ways.
