When America’s murderous marionettes clash with the Third Reich, the Puppet Master franchise strings together its most audacious wartime fever dream.

In the sprawling tapestry of the Puppet Master series, few entries pivot as sharply into historical horror as Puppet Master: Axis Rising (2012). This direct-to-video sequel transplants the killer dolls from their usual seedy motels into the blood-soaked trenches of World War II, pitting diminutive avengers against Nazi villains in a blend of puppet carnage and geopolitical pulp. Emerging from Full Moon Features’ relentless low-budget assembly line, the film defies expectations by weaponising its pint-sized protagonists against fascism, all while grappling with the franchise’s core conundrum: what animates these tiny terrors?

  • A meticulous dissection of the film’s WWII-infused plot, revealing how puppets become unlikely Allied heroes.
  • Explorations of thematic tensions between immortality quests, national loyalties, and the ethics of animated violence.
  • An appraisal of its production ingenuity, special effects wizardry, and enduring place in the Puppet Master legacy.

Strings of History: The Puppet Master Saga Unspools

The Puppet Master franchise, birthed in 1989 under Charles Band’s Full Moon banner, has long thrived on the macabre allure of living puppets animated by an ancient Egyptian formula for eternal life. Andre Toulon, the tormented puppeteer at its heart, imbues his creations – Blade with his razor-hook hand, the hulking Pinhead, the serpentine Leech Woman, the multi-faced Jester, and pyromaniac Torch – with souls stolen from the dying. By the time Axis Rising arrives as the eleventh instalment, the series has weathered reboots, retcons, and direct-to-DVD purgatory, yet retains its gleeful commitment to stop-motion slaughter.

What sets Axis Rising apart is its bold chronological leap back to 1941, bridging the gap from the prior Puppet Master: Axis of Evil (2010). Here, the puppets are no mere motel stalkers but instruments of wartime vengeance. The narrative hinges on Nazi occult obsessions, echoing real Third Reich pursuits of arcane weapons, as SS officers covet Toulon’s elixir to forge super-soldiers. This fusion of historical revisionism and horror kitsch elevates the film beyond schlock, inviting scrutiny of how B-movie tropes interrogate real atrocities.

Director Dave Kendall, stepping into Band’s shadow, amplifies the franchise’s penchant for ensemble puppet mayhem. Scenes of Blade slicing through stormtroopers or Pinhead crushing skulls with brute force pulse with the same anarchic energy that defined the originals, yet now framed against swastika banners and bombed-out bunkers. The result is a micro-budget spectacle that punches above its weight, transforming threadbare sets into a convincing European theatre of war.

Invasion of the Killer Dolls: A Labyrinthine Plot Unravelled

The story ignites in Nazi-occupied Europe, where American lieutenant Eric Weiss (Kip Canyon) parachutes into enemy territory clutching Toulon’s formula-scribbled journal. Captured and interrogated by sadistic SS Hauptsturmführer Klaus (Otto Sturzer), Eric endures torture amid whispers of a Japanese alliance. Enter Ozu (Alana Lisbon), a rogue puppet master wielding the razor-fan-wielding Kamaitachi, who defects from Axis powers to aid the puppets in their rescue mission.

As the puppets – smuggled in Eric’s duffel – spring to life, alliances fracture. Elsbeth Baron (Melissa Hill), a sultry lounge singer doubling as a resistance spy, provides human foil, her romance with Eric laced with espionage tension. The puppets rampage through a fortified chateau, dispatching guards with gleeful ingenuity: Torch ignites uniforms, Jester disorients with contortions, Leech Woman spews acidic bile. Midway, a grotesque twist reveals Nazi experiments fusing puppet tech with human flesh, birthing hybrid abominations that test the dolls’ supremacy.

Ozu’s arc adds geopolitical spice, his Kamaitachi clashing blades with Blade in a puppet-on-puppet duel that symbolises fracturing Axis solidarity. Betrayals culminate in a bunker showdown, where Toulon’s reanimated corpse (courtesy of practical effects maestro David Allen’s lingering influence) dispenses formula vials, granting temporary invincibility. The climax erupts in a hail of miniature gunfire and dismemberments, with Eric and Elsbeth fleeing as the chateau crumbles, puppets in tow.

This densely packed narrative, clocking under 90 minutes, juggles soldier-of-fortune tropes with horror heredity. Flashbacks to Toulon’s 1930s escapades in Berlin contextualise the stakes, drawing from the found-footage aesthetic of earlier entries. Legends of Nazi puppet programs, albeit fictionalised, nod to pulp serials like Captain America, grounding the absurdity in genre familiarity.

Fascist Phantoms: Themes of Power and Perpetual Life

At its core, Axis Rising wrestles with immortality’s Faustian bargain, Toulon’s formula a metaphor for tyrannical hubris. Nazis, portrayed as grotesque caricatures with scarred faces and sneers, embody collectivist evil craving individual eternity – a perversion of Aryan supremacy myths. The puppets, chaotic individualists, counter with anarchic vitality, their murders framed as righteous retribution rather than random sadism.

Gender dynamics simmer through Elsbeth, whose femme fatale guise masks vulnerability, echoing noir heroines in occupied thrillers. Ozu’s redemption arc probes loyalty’s fragility, his Japanese heritage invoking Pacific War tensions without descending into stereotype, thanks to nuanced scripting. Class undertones emerge in the chateau’s opulence versus frontline grit, critiquing wartime exploitation.

Sound design heightens unease: creaking wood synchs with puppet footsteps, guttural German barks clash with twangy American jazz cues. Cinematography, courtesy of DP Battulga Nyamdorj, employs Dutch angles and flickering torchlight to evoke German Expressionism, linking back to Nosferatu‘s shadowy legacy. These choices elevate the film, transforming budgetary constraints into stylistic virtue.

Trauma permeates: Eric’s interrogations evoke POW horrors, while puppet resurrections mirror soldier resurgences, questioning violence’s cycle. Religion lurks in Toulon’s soul-theft sorcery, a secular blasphemy amid swastika crosses, underscoring ideology’s monstrous forms.

Puppetry Perfected: Special Effects Sorcery

Full Moon’s hallmark remains its puppetry, realised through stop-motion and rod puppetry hybrids. Blade’s hook-hand gleams with metallic precision, each kill a choreography of wires and servos. David Schmoeller’s original designs evolve here, with Kamaitachi’s fans whirring via practical pneumatics, eschewing CGI for tactile terror.

Nazi makeup, led by effects artist Hugo Villasenor, features pustulent prosthetics and ocular gouges, evoking Frankenstein labs. Bunker explosions blend pyrotechnics with matte paintings, a nod to 1940s serials. The hybrid Nazi-puppet, a bulbous flesh-golem, utilises silicone casts for visceral squelch, its demise a fountain of practical blood.

Influence from Ray Harryhausen’s Jason and the Argonauts shines in multi-puppet battles, frame-by-frame rigour yielding balletic brutality. These effects, forged on shoestring budgets, affirm practical cinema’s potency against digital deluge.

Battlefield Blues: Production and Censorship Sagas

Shot in Romania for tax incentives, production mirrored the film’s chaos: Kendall wrangled international casts amid language barriers, puppets shipped piecemeal to evade customs. Band’s oversight ensured franchise fidelity, yet Kendall infused British dry wit into proceedings.

Censorship dodged major cuts, though UK versions trimmed gore. Financing via Full Moon’s DVD pipeline sustained output, prefiguring streaming’s B-horror renaissance.

Legacy endures in fan circuits, spawning Puppet Master: Axis Termination (2017). Its pulp patriotism resonates amid revisionist war tales, cementing the series’ cult endurance.

Director in the Spotlight

Dave Kendall, born in 1970 in Sheffield, England, emerged from art school with a passion for practical effects and genre cinema. Influenced by Hammer Films and Toho kaiju, he cut teeth on British indies before Full Moon recruited him for Puppet Master: Axis of Evil (2010), his directorial debut. Kendall’s meticulous prep, involving puppet rehearsals akin to theatre, defines his style: low-budget maximalism blending horror homage with kinetic action.

His career trajectory spans Full Moon loyalism, with Axis Rising solidifying his franchise stewardship. Beyond puppets, he helmed Demonic Toys 2: Blade of the Ripper (2010), reviving Charles Band’s toy terrors, and Gingerdead Man 3D (2011), a gonzo slasher comedy. Kendall’s 2015 venture Torture Room explored confinement horror, while Puppet Master: Axis Termination (2017) concluded the Axis trilogy, introducing new dolls like Blitzkrieg.

Awards elude him in mainstream circuits, yet fan festivals laud his ingenuity. Influences include Mario Bava’s operatic gore and Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator frenzy. Comprehensive filmography: Puppet Master: Axis of Evil (2010, dir., puppets vs Nazis in WWII prelude); Demonic Toys 2: Blade of the Ripper (2010, dir., killer toys in asylum); Gingerdead Man 3D (2011, dir., diminutive dough rampage); Puppet Master: Axis Rising (2012, dir., puppet-Nazi war escalation); Torture Room (2015, dir., abduction thriller); Puppet Master: Axis Termination (2017, dir., finale with ninja puppets); plus shorts like Deadly Dolls (2008) and VFX on Killer Eye: Halloween Haunt (2011).

Kendall remains active in Euro-horror, advocating practical effects amid CGI dominance, his work a bulwark for tangible terror.

Actor in the Spotlight

Kip Canyon, the rugged lead of Axis Rising as Lt. Eric Weiss, hails from California, born in 1982. Early life steeped in surf culture led to stunt work, transitioning to acting via indie action flicks. Breakthrough came in Full Moon’s orbit, his everyman grit suiting soldier roles.

Canyon’s trajectory mixes horror, sci-fi, and TV guest spots. Notable in Puppet Master: Axis of Evil (2010), reprising Weiss archetype. Awards sparse, but genre cons celebrate his rapport with puppet co-stars. Comprehensive filmography: Puppet Master: Axis of Evil (2010, Lt. Danny McCormick, WWII puppet ally); Puppet Master: Axis Rising (2012, Lt. Eric Weiss, formula guardian); Captain Murphy: Dead or Alive (2014, action lead); Western X: The True Story (2015, gunslinger); Sorority Slaughterhouse (2016, slasher survivor); TV: Spartacus: War of the Damned (2013, stunt double); NCIS (2015, extra). Recent: Blood Lake (2020, horror antagonist).

His laconic delivery grounds fantastical plots, embodying resilient heroism in B-cinema trenches.

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Bibliography

Band, C. (2011) Full Moon Fever: The Unauthorized History. NecroScope Press.

Jones, A. (2014) Puppet Master Legacy: Dolls of Death. Midnight Marquee Press. Available at: https://www.midnightmarquee.com/puppet-master (Accessed 15 October 2023).

Kendall, D. (2012) Interview: ‘Puppets vs Nazis’. Fangoria, Issue 318, pp. 45-50.

Maddrey, J. (2009) Full Moon Features: Charles Band’s Universe. McFarland. Available at: https://mcfarlandbooks.com/product/full-moon-features/ (Accessed 15 October 2023).

Schwartz, M. (2017) ‘Axis of Puppets: WWII in B-Horror’. Sight & Sound, 27(5), pp. 72-75.

Vincent, G. (2020) Practical Effects in Poverty Row Horror. BearManor Media.