Buddy Review: A Humorous, Irreverent Film from the Creator of Too Many Cooks

      Note: This review was initially published during our coverage of the 2026 Sundance festival. The film is set to release on August 28.

      In Casper Kelly’s popular short “Too Many Cooks,” a catchy ‘90s sitcom introduction repeats for 11 minutes, with new characters added to the credits each time. Ultimately, a serial killer lurking in the background starts eliminating the oversized cast. With Buddy, Kelly effectively adapts and modifies his “Cooks” concept into a feature film, set this time in the realm of ‘90s children's television.

      Blending elements of Barney and Blue’s Clues, the show within Buddy features a large pink unicorn that, along with a supporting cast of anthropomorphized household items, teaches children a new lesson in each episode. Every aspect of the show—the vibrant sets, the ‘90s attire worn by the kids, the songs they perform—demonstrates Kelly's profound grasp of the aesthetics and conventions of the genre he skillfully subverts.

      Buddy quickly propels the plot forward. By the second episode of the in-film show, one child has gone missing, and Freddy (Delaney Quinn) finds his bloodied book in the trash. From that point, the children unite and promptly uncover Buddy’s lethal inclinations. They devise a plan to escape the house set that has, until then, constituted their entire existence. Buddy heavily relies on the classic “children in peril” trope, and by killing one of them in the very first episode, the stakes become tangible. Gaslighting also serves as a potential metaphor for child abuse, as Buddy continually manipulates the children, insisting that everything is a misunderstanding and that he's not angry. There are moments when Buddy's rage breaks through his cheerful facade, and these instances of him losing control starkly contrast with the upbeat nature of the show. These moments are well-executed and humorous.

      The repetitive structure of the first act shifts dramatically to the real world, transitioning from a VHS look to modern digital cinematography. In this initially separate storyline, a suburban mother named Grace (Cristin Milioti) leads a typical life with a benign husband (Topher Grace) and two kids. However, an enduring inner emptiness prompts her to do some swift detective work and seek the help of a psychic. She realizes she is missing a child whose memory has been erased from her and her family's consciousness. Though it's a wild transition, Buddy manages to convey this conclusion in a concise and humorous way. The two narratives are eventually linked: one of the children escaping from Buddy is her lost child. There is an evident Severance quality here, particularly when Grace finds herself in daily contact with this missing child, with neither aware of the other's identity. I Saw the TV Glow serves as another reference point, but while that Sundance success toyed with the metaphorical notion of a ‘90s TV show possibly being real, Buddy engages this concept literally.

      As a project from an Adult Swim alum, Buddy is both amusing and irreverent, yet its strength as a feature lies in its avoidance of excessive irony. Milioti plays the central story of a mother searching for her missing child relatively straightforwardly, allowing for occasional humor when appropriate. However, Kelly's experiment does hit some limits. A scene where a few characters from a canceled Western show encounter the children feels like filler in the second act. By the time Buddy fully transforms into a monster pursuing the children in the film’s climax, the “children in peril” device starts to lose its impact. Nonetheless, overall, Buddy demonstrates that high-concept short-form ideas can be successfully expanded into feature length, provided the final product remains sincere and the stakes feel legitimate.

      Buddy made its debut at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.