Most short horror films serve one purpose and one purpose only–as stepping stones for filmmakers wanting a larger budget. The genre is perfect for hopeful up-and-comers for it does not demand star recognition because–and unlike in most other categories of cinema–the field is the central focus. As such, a large budget isn’t required in order to procure the necessary visual talent. Conversely, rarely does a short reel of celluloid find a truly vestal genesis, that is, as a brief narrative that is made because such is the most fitting format in which to tell the tale. Fortunately, the latter is the exquisite case for Karl Holt’s Eddie Loves You.

Most any critic that has worked for more than a week in the genre is somewhat reluctant to view independently-made short works because, understandably via the aforementioned sentimentalities, most filmmakers come to the format because they find themselves having no other choice (rather than by choice). Predictably, a large majority of short works are as limited as the brevity of their running time for the responsible parties are of equally restricted ability. Thus, it is especially easy to typecast short horror films as posing a better-than-not chance of being, well, poor at best.

However, the satirical premise of Eddie Loves You–a Tickle-Me Elmo doll which refuses to die–is, by and large, more creative and intriguing than most big budget Hollywood productions. If nothing else, one is forced to hand it to Holt: Not only is apathy eschewed after the synopsis is put forth but, once offered, it actually makes a person want to see the execution of the over-the-top idea.

Of course, this is not to imply that the director/producer/writer/actor isn’t looking for a bigger backing. What this unequivocally declares is, in and of itself, Eddie Love You is a rare breed: a concise, well-crafted short work of black humor horror cinema that seldom fumbles. From the excruciatingly patient cinematography (a glare is almost constant upon a knife blade) and wry humor to the exactingly choreography during a fight scene and the unforced allusions/parodies, Eddie Loves You is a masterful outing that propels itself to the top of the quagmire that is horror shorts.

The humor within Eddie Loves You is tactfully placed as we find the central character (Karl Holt) contending with the irrefutably absurd scenario of a stuffed toy which refuses to be thrown away and, natch, is out for revenge after having been haphazardly discarded on an arbitrary technicality. Amid the logistic mayhem, our protagonist naively posits his grievance to the police that his teddy bears have been burned (by, guess who?) and only afterward realizes the futile dilemma which he has found himself. Thankfully, Holt does not attempt to force all of the humor upon his human element for the fittingly hyperactive animation of the titular antagonist is second-only to the ominous air that follows the central character’s discovery of . . . wayward stuffing (Eddie was tossed into the dustbin for having ripped a seam). The hats-off irony in such is that, at the appearance of the omen, Holt evokes more tension than most straight-laced horror tales. My friends, we are in the presence of a true talent.

If the mile-a-minute lunacy weren’t enough, Holt succinctly inserts allusion on top of allusion as he flippantly mocks such horror classics as Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, John Carpenter’s Halloween, Bob Clark’s Black Christmas, Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, Hideo Nakata’s Ringu and/or Tobe Hooper’s Poltergeist (your choice), and, most importantly, William Friedkin’s The Exorcist. With the latter, he comically highlights the absurdity of the notorious 1973 classic while successfully retaining his stride. [Note: I fear that–though clocking in under a little less than half-an-hour–I might have well missed a few sardonic references but, alas, this gives me just reason to view the feature yet again. Yea!]

Even the inclusion of a fight scene between a stuffed children’s toy and an empathetically distraught man is steadfastly controlled. As time has attested again and again, such sequences oftentimes break a picture because the director is unable to effectively and convincingly present the material. Holt’s veteran editing style not only plausibly presents the scene, but it also heightens the already gut-wrenching humor via his repetition of certain ludicrous frames.

The only possible quibble one could have with the feature is that Holt didn’t milk the satirical potential contained within the premise to its fullest extent. However, few will be able to conscientiously posit the complaint due to laughter-induced hyperventilation.

Thus, this is a call to action: Someone please give this guy a budget because Karl Holt houses the potential to give us a feature-length production that, gasp, might well be funnier (yes, funnier) than Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead. There have been countless crimes committed within the genre of cinema, but to permit Holt to not make another film would be one of the most reprehensive in recent memory.

– Egregious Gurnow