The franchise has largely devolved into an exercise in so much stupid fun by this point, and it’s a credit to writer-slash-director Don Mancini (who had written all the previous films but who took his first stab at director with this venture) that he manages to keep it between the embankments. Parts of this one become too silly for my tastes; the scene with Chucky masturbating is just childish, too middle-school to be funny. And I miss the seriousness—relatively speaking, of course—of the first films. But I do appreciate Jennifer Tilly’s willingness to poke fun at herself with this one in the film’s movie-within-a-movie setting, and it is at least as good as the previous one, so in that regard it disproves the Law of Diminishing Returns.
I have to love this one, though. Have to. I had no idea that the offspring of Chucky and Tiffany was named Glen or Glenda. This obvious homage to the Ed Wood film of that title earned SEED OF CHUCKY my undying affection, as did all the in-jokes, and the homages to PSYCHO and THE SHINING.
Narratively, nothing of consequence happens, except for one thing, perhaps the biggest development in the series, actually: Chucky accepting and embracing his status as a living doll, no longer desiring to transfer his soul into some human body. It’s a moment of genuine apotheosis for the character, all too easily missed amidst all the silliness.