My dear readers, while I am fortunate enough to have avoided any serious health crises in my life thus far, I have, nevertheless, devoted no small part of my imagination to the horrors of one’s own body rebelling and refusing to perform. Our own family had one such scare recently, as my distant Aunt Muriel Hauntedhouse was informed that her heart, somewhat weary from nearly a century of consistent use, was beginning to fail in its duties. She was placed at the end of a lengthly transplant waitlist and I admit, for a moment the situation looked a bit bleak. However, fate and fortune intervened, sweet serendipity shined upon us and a poisonous gas leak at a nearby refinery made readily available a great deal of bodily tissue no longer of use to its original owners. Since then, the medical authorities involved in the case have reported back to us that the transplant was a complete success and that she is recovering nicely. Apparently some of them were a little shaken up about the fact that the heart they removed from old Muriel featured some hair, several teeth and what would have passed for an eye on a large beetle. But none of them seemed eager to dwell on the subject for too long and at any rate, the grand old gal seems to be doing just fine with a more pedestrian cardiopulmonary specimen.

Helen Black (Shirley L. Jones) is also quite familiar with having a sudden change of heart. She is a young woman with a stringent set of principals. Oftentimes, she finds herself shaking her head for extensive periods at the moral shortcomings of those around her, from people who talk during church sermons to people who do not attend church in the first place. But while a wide variety of folks meet her standards for disapproval, she reserves her most severe judgement for “fornicators,” and swears that she will remain a virgin until the day she is married. But of course, sometimes life gets in the way of these little plans of ours and the shift Helen’s stance comes about with a little help from a sexually predatory puppet.

She first encounters the eponymous Black Devil Doll from Hell (Keefe L. Turner) at a charming little doll dispensary, where the proprietor provides Helen with a detailed history -- supposedly the item grants its possessor their deepest desire and though it has been sold four times prior, it mysteriously manages to return to the shop, the fate of its previous owners unknown. Helen does not find anything about this description terribly off-putting and decides to become the doll’s fifth owner. The doll quickly reveals that it is, in fact, an enchanted, wish-granting entity and instead of asking after her deepest desire, it decides on its own that what Helen wants is a lewd encounter with a puppet. Surprisingly, the doll is correct and after some initial reluctance and shouts of protest, Helen becomes fairly absorbed in the pleasures of the body. But, having fulfilled its purpose just the once, the doll vanishes entirely and Helen is distraught to find that her newfound sexual urges cannot be satisfied by the average flesh and blood fellow.

Black Devil Doll from Hell is something of a cinematic Chimera -- it is a horror film, a surrealist drama and a tale of erotic awakening all at once. It is the first and second to last film by house remodeler and artistic visionary Chester Novell Turner. In an astonishing tribute to independent perseverance, Mr. Turner produced it over the course of several years at a cost of $10,000. And while this sum is quite low for a feature, evidence of even these scant funds are difficult to find on the screen. But this is a large part of the film’s appeal. Almost every frame of Black Devil Doll from Hell forces the viewer to question what is before them -- is an extended zoom in on a microwave during a telephone conversation an indication that the cameraperson’s fingers were in the wrong place? Is the consistent reuse of footage evidence that there was not much material to work with? Is the film’s appearance a sign that Mr. Turner completely squandered his rather modest budget? Or are all of these part of a deliberate attempt to skewer our narrative expectations? I believe we can all agree that it is most definitely the latter. It is a unique directorial style, one that positively erases the distinction between the amateur and the avant-garde. It also ensures a viewing experience that stands out among its peers in the puppet rape sub-genre.

The “alternate cut” of Black Devil Doll from Hell cited in this review runs 84 minutes and does not possess a certified rating in the United States.