i would say the film was fair, maybe even good, when i am feeling generous. it could not, however, rival the concentrated burst of creepiness that was its own trailer, which had to be pulled from prime time television spots when an inordinate number of parents complained that it was giving their children nightmares. for a superior treatment of this theme, look for michael redgrave's crumbling ventriloquist in the final section of one of the best portmanteau horror films ever made, dead of night (1945). you'll put a blanket over your charlie mccarthy doll that night. unless that would only make him angry.