I’d been behind in posting a review of the 20th anniversary edition DVD of Child’s Play, but now I’m kind of glad that I was, because I received jarring, prima facie evidence of its cultural… significance? longevity? …let’s say impact, in the form of a costumed Chucky dancing around at a Los Angeles intersection but two or three days ago. Oh, advertising costumes for Halloween, right? No, this was one of those guys that apartment complexes pay to stand outside in the heat and twirl gigantic cardboard arrows advertising their special rental rates. Except that instead of wearing sunglasses and a walkman, he was wearing a full little Chucky get-up, complete with giant overalls.

Unnerving, I know. But probably not more so than the 1988 film itself, which married slasher flick conventions with a pinch of the Cajun-inflected supernatural and a heaping helping of animatronic, talking-doll creepiness, spawning an ironic-hipster horror franchise to stand in diminuitive counterpoint to Freddy Krueger‘s Nightmare on Elm Street franchise. The story, of course, centers around six-year-old Andy Barclay (Alex Vincent), whose parents have recently undergone a divorce. His mom Karen (Catherine Hicks) gets him the toy that he most wants for his birthday — a cheery “Good Guy” doll whom he christens Chucky. Problem is, this particular Chucky is possessed by a notorious serial killer (Brad Dourif), who engaged in some voodoo shenanigans to temporarily put his soul on ice, until he could round up a body to return to inhabit. Scheming to transfer out of his pint-sized body and into Andy, Chucky terrorizes his ill-fated babysitter, Karen and pretty much everyone in sight. Cop Mike Norris (Chris Sarandon), meanwhile, tries to save the day.

In perfect hindsight, yes, some of the special effects work seems a bit schlocky, no doubt. But there’s also an interesting and for the most part effective mixed use of forced perspective camerawork, human stuntwork, models and animatronic mayhem, which was a nascent technology in film at the time. There’s no doubt that digital rendering has made some of this passé, but as far as deftly channeled primal kiddie nightmare stuff goes, this remains a solidly constructed film. It’s easy to understand the $33 million domestic gross, and additional $11 million overseas revenue.

Housed in a regular Amray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover with a raised, slightly 3-D portrait of Chucky, and a lenticular eyeball that “dares [one] to watch,” Child’s Play is presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, and comes with a slew of bonus features that give weight to its special anniversary presentation. This is no empty, cash-cow repackaging, in other words. English language audio tracks in Dolby surround and Dolby 5.1 surround sound are included, along with Spanish and French language tracks of the former variety, and optional English and Spanish subtitles.

Kicking off the special features are two audio commentary tracks. The first is with actors Hicks and Vincent, and Chucky designer Kevin Yagher, who was fresh off the success of the Elm Street franchise. While on the surface this seems like an odd pairing, it actually works quite well, since Hicks and Vincent can speak to the specifics of the actual work experience and interaction with Chucky, in all his various forms, and Yagher can explain the means by which certain shots/sequences were achieved. The second commentary track is with producer David Kirschner and screenwriter Don Mancini, who have continued a fruitful working relationship on the subsequent sequels in this series.

By far the biggest disappointment of the set is the scene-specific “Chucky commentary,” which is presented in discrete, stand-alone fashion for four or five scenes. It’s full of long silences, and not that funny to boot. Much better, thankfully, are three solid new featurettes, each running seven-plus minutes. Here, Kirschner and Mancini talk about the genesis of the project, and how Mancini’s original script — first called Blood Buddy and then, amusingly, Batteries Not Included — had a supernatural inspiration, and a doll with synthetic skin that would cut and bruise when played with roughly. (This all sounds a bit more interesting and high-minded than the “Lakeshore Strangler” serial killer element hatched by Kirschner and introduced by screenwriter John Lafia in his rewrite.)

There’s also a scrollable photo gallery, a six-minute vintage production featurette and five minutes of footage from 2007’s Monster Mania convention, where Hicks, Sarandon and Vincent field audience questions and talk about the chilly Chicago shoot. Finally, there’s a 10-minute featurette, with footage both old and new, that delves specifically into the construction of Chucky, and how an L-shaped bracket for his jaw helped open up a whole new range of facial expressions. Yagher is insightful and interesting, and special effects wizard Tom Savini helps frame the advances and from-the-hip work of the time, which is supplemented with all kinds of pre-production material, including Dourif rehearsal footage and plenty of robotic tests. About the only thing missing here is an interview with the dwarf who played Chucky in a couple chase sequences, on apartment sets specially built to a larger scale. Otherwise, this is a knife-sharp piece of horror nostalgia. B- (Movie) A- (Disc)