As a child, I had a strange relationship to horror movies in general. I was born in 1985, so I grew up right in the middle of one of the biggest overall horror booms in the history of the genre. I felt then about horror movies much like a child born in the previous decade must now feel about superhero movies, as if they had always been popular and always existed. As a result, there was no escaping these films. They aired them on television all the time. All of my friends talked about them. They were everywhere. So, since they were a large part of my life, I grew to love them...from a distance. I would get lost in the mythology of the endless buffet of sequels. I would debate which slasher killer was the best. I would get amazingly excited whenever a marathon of said franchises would air...until they actually came on. Then I would play a sort of "chicken"-type game with the remote control. If you were a hyperactive child as I was, you know what I'm talking about. The character would quietly enter into a dark area by his or herself. The background music would stop. A quick shadow would race across the background. Then, just as the killer would make his or her presence felt...I changed the channel. I was too scared to stick around for the good stuff. I was completely and utterly fascinated and thrilled by the characters and their worlds, but I was way too scared to fully commit to whichever film I was watching. No other character embodied this for me more than Chucky. Never mind that the idea of your toys coming to life and killing people was a twisted concept for a kid to handle anyway. I mean, to take such a universally shared childhood wish of one's playthings coming alive and subvert it in such a way as to potentially ruin the play-time experience for any child who might see your film? That's pure psychological horror on a fairly deep level. However, the idea alone isn't what made Chucky scary. Chucky was scary because Brad Dourif and the very talented effects crew combined to make a pint-sized serial killer into a wide-eyed, foul-mouthed demon from Hell. It's the eyes. It's the laugh. It's the whole package. Jason and Michael had no personalities. Freddy did, of course, but he could never really find the humor/horror balance, always leaning too far one way or the other. Chucky though, Chucky was a piece of work. Chucky's sheer, unapologetic sadism exploded through Dourif's voice, never failing to make him scary despite all the obvious physical limitations that the character exhibits. Yet, even through the rage, Dourif manages to make the serial-killer-possessed doll hilarious at times (because, honestly, how are you going to do a movie about a killer doll without some humor?) At his best, the character could be legitimately unnerving while genuinely funny ("How's it hangin', Phil?"). To a kid who spent a lot of time with toys, Chucky was completely terrifying... and impossible to resist. As the new direct-to-Blu Ray Chucky film, Curse of Chucky, is on its way soon, I thought this would be a good time to talk about the series so far and rank the films from worst to best. The Chucky series is a pretty big rarity in its genre in that each film really does try to do something different each time and, on average, it usually benefits the character more then it hinders him. Unfortunately, since I believe in saving the best for last, we have to start with the worst of the bunch. If you're a fan of Chucky, then you won't be surprised what number five is (click "Next to find out)...