Review by Jon Donnis
Buddy is one of those horror films that sounds utterly ridiculous on paper, yet somehow manages to make its strange central idea work. Directed by Casper Kelly in his feature film directorial debut, this American supernatural slasher takes the innocent, brightly coloured world of a 1990s children's television programme and turns it into something deeply unsettling. The result is funny, violent, strange and frequently surreal, with the feeling that someone has discovered an old VHS tape of a children's show that should never have existed in the first place.
The film's greatest strength is how convincingly it recreates the look and feel of children's television from the 1990s. Everything about It's Buddy! feels deliberately familiar, from the colourful sets and costumes to the songs, characters and relentlessly cheerful presentation. The production design deserves particular credit because the film understands that the horror works best when the world itself initially looks harmless. Buddy is a giant, bright orange unicorn designed to spread happiness and teach children life lessons, but that forced positivity gradually becomes sinister as his cheerful exterior begins to crack.
That contrast provides the film with much of its humour and horror. Buddy's increasingly aggressive attempts to force children to participate in his supposedly joyful world are funny precisely because they are presented with the same exaggerated enthusiasm you might expect from an actual children's programme. The satire of toxic positivity is particularly effective, taking the familiar idea that children should always be happy and turning it into something threatening. The film has a lot of fun with the conventions of children's television, while the increasingly violent consequences provide a wonderfully twisted counterpoint.
The practical effects are another major positive. When Buddy finally reveals what is hiding beneath the cheerful façade, the film does not rely entirely on suggestion. There is plenty of blood, mutilation and physical violence, and the contrast between the brightly coloured children's world and the brutality taking place within it is often striking. It gives Buddy a tangible presence and helps the film retain the feel of a traditional practical-effects horror film rather than becoming entirely dependent on digital imagery.
The performances are strong across the board. Delaney Quinn is particularly effective as Freddy, giving the character enough vulnerability and determination to make her increasingly desperate attempts to survive compelling. Cristin Milioti also brings considerable emotional weight to the real-world storyline as Grace, while Keegan-Michael Key does an excellent job vocally as Buddy. His performance is crucial because Buddy needs to remain entertaining even when he becomes frightening, and the cheerful delivery of increasingly sinister material creates much of the character's appeal.
The original songs are another highlight. They capture the artificial cheerfulness of the fictional programme while becoming increasingly uncomfortable as the story develops. It is a clever way of maintaining the children's television concept throughout the film, rather than simply using the aesthetic as a one-off joke.
There is also considerably more world-building here than the basic premise might suggest. The discovery that other children's programmes and characters have been caught up in Buddy's strange existence opens up a much larger mythology. George and his foul-mouthed marionette Willie are especially entertaining, providing another bizarre detour into the history of the world while also reinforcing the idea that Buddy has been doing this for far longer than the central characters realise. The mystery surrounding the children's missing memories and Grace's discovery of the connection between Buddy and her family gives the film an emotional dimension that gradually becomes more important.
However, Buddy does have its limitations. The central premise is stretched rather thinly across feature length. The idea of a murderous children's television character escaping into the real world is strong enough to sustain a short film or an extended horror sketch, but the longer Buddy continues, the more obvious the limitations of the concept become. There are several excellent ideas here, but they do not always feel substantial enough to support the entire running time.
The film also does not completely capitalise on its premise. There are plenty of opportunities to push the contrast between children's television innocence and supernatural horror even further, but some of the later sections feel more interested in introducing another strange idea than developing the strongest elements already established. The George and Willie material is entertaining, for example, but it also contributes to the sense that the film is moving away from its most effective central concept.
The third act is where the film becomes noticeably less controlled. The mythology expands, some narrative elements become deliberately ambiguous, and the central mystery starts competing with the more straightforward horror story. That surreal quality is part of Buddy's identity, but it can also make the story feel less focused as it approaches its conclusion.
Some of the commentary on children's media could also have been developed further. The satire of enforced happiness and the pressure to behave correctly is clear, but there are moments where the film appears to be setting up broader observations about children's entertainment without fully exploring them. As a result, some of the social commentary feels secondary to the horror and comedy rather than being fully integrated into the story.
There is also a degree of repetition. Once Buddy's basic behaviour has been established, some of the later sequences revisit ideas the audience already understands. The film can consequently feel overextended, particularly when compared with how strong and immediately effective the central concept is.
It is worth noting that Buddy is not quite as disturbing as its premise might initially suggest. It certainly contains violence and unsettling imagery, but the film's comedic and deliberately absurd approach prevents it from becoming relentlessly frightening. That will work in its favour for viewers looking for a horror film that prioritises entertainment and weirdness over sustained terror, but those expecting something genuinely nightmarish may find it less intense than anticipated.
Despite those shortcomings, there is something undeniably likeable about Buddy. It is an original idea, executed with a clear visual identity and a genuine affection for the children's television aesthetic it is subverting. The best moments are those where the film allows its bizarre premise to collide with its meticulous recreation of 1990s children's programming. When that happens, Buddy becomes exactly what it promises to be, a cheerful children's show that has somehow become cursed.
The film's biggest achievement is that it remains genuinely entertaining despite how unusual the premise is. It has a distinctive world, memorable characters, strong performances, effective practical effects and enough strange ideas to make it stand out from more conventional slashers. It may have benefited from tighter pacing and a more controlled final act, but there is plenty here to enjoy.
What a strange but well-made horror film. For anyone who grew up watching children's television in the 1980s or 1990s, everything looks and feels so familiar, but then it all goes so horribly wrong. Buddy does not always know when to stop, but its combination of nostalgia, dark comedy, violence and surreal horror makes it difficult to dismiss.
I really enjoyed Buddy. It manages to feel original and nostalgic at the same time, and despite its flaws, it is an entertaining and memorable horror film.
I score Buddy a solid 8 out of 10
You can watch the horror-comedy movie Buddy (2026) following its UK premiere at FrightFest in London on August 28 and August 31, 2026
Apple TV - https://apple.co/4y9cYz1
