Regardless of how little you may be acquainted with the horror genre, I’m confident you’re familiar with a killer doll or two. Chucky has become one of the largest horror icons despite his toddler-esque size throughout the insurmountable Child’s Play franchise – Annabelle, the creepy blonde doll spawned out of The Conjuring universe, has received the same treatment in more recent years. As with any motif within the horror genre, when it rains, it pours.
For every Chucky or Annabelle, there is a Dolly Dearest (1991) or Demonic Toys (1992) lying in wait. Though I love both aforementioned flicks despite their obvious schlock and imperfections, it perturbs me just a tad that they’ve been fortunate enough to develop a cult following when a far-superior, Canadian contribution to this creepy sub-genre seemingly remains hidden in plain sight.
Spawning from the creative efforts of writer/director Sandor Stern, the man responsible for screenwriting The Amityville Horror (1979), comes a deeply psychological horror flick, Pin (1988). Y’all may be wondering how this ties into the deadly doll genre, allow me to explain – Pin happens to be the name of an anatomy doll Dr. Linden has used to effectively communicate with his children, Ursula and Leon, via ventriloquism over the years. What started off as a cute and harmless gag to teach his tots all about the complicated issues in life eventually becomes troublesome – Leon’s belief that Pin is a living being becomes unshakeable and increasingly more dangerous over time.
A pattern I’ve observed when it comes to Canadian cinema is its fearlessness when tackling uncomfortable issues. The polarizing topic of abortion was central to the plot of Bob Clark’s Canadian cult classic, Black Christmas (1974); A young woman gets an abortion on the very first episode of teen-oriented drama, Degrassi High (1989); In Pin, Ursula is faced with an unwanted pregnancy after a stint of promiscuity. Already uncomfortable an issue, what makes matters worse here is that Ursula’s father is the one to carry out the procedure, and actually encourages brother Leon to watch. Which leads me to my next point…
The Linden family is, for lack of a better term, weird as shit. They’d be more than comfortable within the confines of a flick like Society (1989) or The People Under the Stairs (1991). They’re the kind of creepy white folks that have plastic wrapped furniture to preserve cleanliness while diligently burying a dirty mind. One could even argue that their oppressive style of parenting is largely the backbone of this entire flick – Both children end up with a really warped comprehension of sexual interaction, yet juxtapose both ends of the spectrum. You’ve got Ursula on one end fuelled by promiscuity in attempt to fill some harrowing void, whereas Leon disassociates from those around him entirely and neglects any advances made towards him despite having deeply repressed needs himself.
That being said, an interesting deterioration of mental stability is to be observed here as we lay witness to Leon’s unhealthy obsession with Pin propel full speed into oblivion. Instances of abuse emerge when anyone speaks ill of his peculiar companion, even if those words happen to come from his beloved sister. Much like his uncontrollable infatuation with the doll, he becomes exceedingly controlling over Ursula as well. You might even say he’d kill for her, and perhaps he does.
Not unlike the mind-bending horrors of Psycho (1960) and Magic (1978), much of the film is spent ping-ponging between what is and isn’t real. As the body count rises, the audience is left to wonder if this plastic dummy is really wielding the axe or if it is all in the paranoid schizophrenic mind of Leon.
I think that is the unstated motivator behind effective psychological horror – Analyzing how we process trauma and the power it can hold over us. Norman Bates was deeply traumatized by his relationship with his mother, so he became her. Leon spent much of his childhood suppressing urges, so he unconsciously found ways to fulfill them.
What I find interesting about Pin is how efficiently it conquers the task of blurring the lines. As much as it may seem that Leon is simply losing his grip on reality, it cannot be denied that the entire family is visibly fearful of Pin even when Leon isn’t around. We really aren’t given a clear answer on some of the horrifying events carried out within its runtime, which makes the film all the more haunting.
Another reason I firmly believe this film to be deserving of more praise is its detail-oriented nature. Nearly every little element of this flick serves a purpose, whether it be the plastic wrap of the furniture, the woodpile out back, or the digital watch that beeps on the hour. Pin is completely and totally bonkers, but I’d be damned if I didn’t say it was one hell of a horror flick and one of the heaviest hitters when contending the utmost importance of Canada’s contributions to the horror genre.