In issue seven of Eightball, Daniel Clowes gifted the world with “Chicago” — a four page comic strip that satirized the bravado and pride of the Windy City circa 1991:
“When we die, there will be a special corner in hell reserved for Chicagoans where the damned are forced to drink Old Style beer while listening to an eternal medley of R&B standards performed by Jim Belushi and Bruce Willis (on harmonica). See you there!”
As a former Chicago native, I can confirm that this hot take on the Second City is accurate. From Da Deep Dish to Da Bears, Chicago’s love for Chicago’s culture is unconditional and unlimited. To this day, the thought of Italian beef sandwiches, “baptized” with plenty of au jus dip, make me tear up. So you can bet your satin Chicago Bulls jacket that when I make my way down to that special corner in hell, I’ll be holding a copy of Bobo — easily the greatest shot-on-video Child’s Play rip-off ever made in the northwest suburbs of Chicago.
John (director Chuck Gotski, owner of the best Chicago name ever) is a struggling horror writer. With his mullet, sleeveless Kiss t-shirt, and neon baseball cap, he looks and sounds like a shoe-in to replace Chris Farley in a Super Fans reunion skit on Saturday Night Live. Especially when he tells his kids, “Aw geez, finish cleanin’ up dat mess over dere, okay?” Needing time to finish his latest novel about a killer doll, John convinces his wife Jenny and their kids to visit her parents’ house for a few days. As soon as they leave, a mysterious box containing a doll shows up at John’s condo — just like in Todd Cook’s The Dummy! But unlike that movie, Bobo doesn’t feel like it’s three years long.
I’m fully aware that I have a bias towards all things Chicago. But that doesn’t change the fact that Bobo is a tiny miracle, a 25-minute archaeological artifact that feels like it shouldn’t exist. Gotski somehow convinced his real-life wife and children to join him in making a home movie about a clown doll that attacks people’s feet with a barbeque utensil. That fact is as adorable as it is baffling, just like the movie. But the true star is the giggling Bobo puppet, sounding like a dead ringer for the flanger-induced voice from Chicago’s infamous Max Headroom pirate incident. Bobo might be extremely simple and light on bloodshed. But that can’t stop the crude visuals from warping together to create a stoned no-fi Goosebumps episode that could have been broadcast on Channel 83 in Videodrome.
Bobo was resurrected from oblivion by the mighty Saturn’s Core Audio & Video via a limited edition VHS release that is now out of print. The tape includes another Gotski short called The Body Man. I really wanted to watch it. But my brain was so hung up on the framed Miller High Life poster above John and Jenny’s bed that I couldn’t focus on anything else.
Today, Chuck Gotski is a self-described Psychic Medium and Inner Voice Healer. He accepts Paypal for his services.
