Before Roland Emmerich was blowing up the White House in Independence Day or freezing Jake Gyllenhaal solid in The Day After Tomorrow, he dipped his German toes into Hollywood waters with Joey, known in America as Making Contact. It’s a film about childhood grief, supernatural powers, and a demonic ventriloquist dummy that looks like it was stolen from a Chuck E. Cheese dumpster fire. It’s also one of the most spectacularly misguided attempts at Spielbergian wonder ever filmed, as if a student essay titled “How to Rip Off E.T. in Ten Easy Steps” was somehow given a $5 million budget.
If Poltergeist and E.T. had a love child, and then immediately dropped it on its head, the result would be Joey.
The Plot: Ghost Dad Meets Dollar Store Chucky
The movie opens with nine-year-old Joey Collins, whose dad has died. That’s tragic. But don’t worry—he’s got a magical red toy phone that allows him to call his father in the afterlife. Because when I think of Spielbergian childhood wonder, I definitely think of necromancy via Fisher-Price.
Unfortunately, Joey’s supernatural hotline to Dad also opens the door to Fletcher, a ventriloquist dummy possessed by pure evil. Fletcher proceeds to terrorize Joey and everyone around him, summoning demons, telekinetic chaos, and enough unintentional laughs to fill three seasons of Mystery Science Theater 3000.
By the end, Joey has to march into the spirit world and battle the doll in a final showdown of good vs. evil. Imagine Luke Skywalker fighting Darth Vader, except Vader is a hand-me-down puppet that looks like it chain-smokes menthols.
The Dummy: Fletcher, Destroyer of Credibility
Let’s be honest: evil ventriloquist dummies are creepy. Dead of Night (1945) proved it. Magic (1978) proved it. Even Goosebumps knew the formula worked. But Fletcher, this film’s “menace,” looks like a rejected Muppet with a coke problem. His eyes roll around like they’re operated by someone’s foot, his voice (courtesy of Jack Angel) is less “demonic terror” and more “Uncle Larry after three bourbons,” and his evil schemes boil down to “stand in a corner, glare, occasionally summon smoke.”
Chucky was terrifying because he did things. Fletcher just sits there like a smug divorce lawyer waiting for his check to clear. If this is your villain, your movie deserves every ounce of mockery.
Joey: The World’s Saddest X-Men Reject
Our hero Joey is a lonely kid with telekinesis. Sounds cool, right? Well, not in Emmerich’s hands. Instead of moving objects with flair, Joey uses his powers to make lunchboxes float or to wave a toy car around. It’s less “Carrie” and more “child rehearsing for a magic show in his garage.”
Joshua Morrell, who plays Joey, tries hard, but you can practically see him thinking, “I’m missing Saturday morning cartoons for this?” His big emotional moments consist of whispering into the toy phone with the kind of seriousness usually reserved for ordering pizza.
By the time Joey has to “save the world” from Fletcher, you don’t root for him—you pray the dummy wins just to end the suffering.
The Supporting Cast: Stage Moms and Stock Villains
Joey’s mom (Eva Kryll) spends most of the movie wandering around the house, gasping, “Joey? Joey? Where are you, Joey?” If she had a dime for every time she said his name, she could have financed a better effects budget.
The neighborhood bullies are cartoonishly evil, as if lifted from a rejected script for The Goonies. Their big crime? Taunting Joey and then immediately being terrorized by his powers, proving once again that bullies in movies exist solely to get karmic wedgies from the protagonist.
Everyone else is so forgettable they might as well be cardboard cutouts. And considering Roland Emmerich literally hired actors from a U.S. military base in Germany, some of them were basically cardboard cutouts.
The Special Effects: A Factory of Cheap Dreams
Emmerich built his own effects studio in an abandoned factory to save money. And boy, does it show. The miniatures look like something a bored teenager built for a science fair. The demons resemble leftover Halloween decorations from Kmart. The stop-motion sequences are so jittery you wonder if the cameraman was drunk.
But the pièce de résistance is Fletcher himself. His movements are so stiff it’s unclear if he’s being puppeteered or if gravity is just having a bad day. His “evil grin” looks more like constipation. It’s the kind of puppet that makes you nostalgic for sock puppets.
Emmerich wanted to be Germany’s Spielberg. Instead, he gave us Germany’s answer to Mac and Me.
Spielbergle: Little Spielberg, Big Problem
Critics in Germany nicknamed Emmerich “Spielbergle” (“Little Spielberg”), which is both insulting to Spielberg and way too generous to Emmerich. The man clearly watched E.T., Poltergeist, and Close Encounters and thought, “What if I did all of that, but worse?”
The problem isn’t ambition—it’s execution. Spielberg made us believe a boy could befriend an alien. Emmerich made us believe a boy could have long, boring conversations with a glorified yard sale dummy. One inspired wonder; the other inspired MST3K to make rent.
The American Cut: Because Even Americans Deserve Mercy
When the film was released in the U.S. as Making Contact, it was trimmed from 98 minutes to 79. That’s not editing—that’s euthanasia. The cuts didn’t make the film good, but they did make it shorter, which counts as mercy in cinematic terms.
If you want to experience the true pain, you can watch the original 98-minute cut, which drags like a funeral march for your attention span. Or, better yet, you can just smash your own fingers with a hammer—it’ll be quicker and more rewarding.
Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Real Resurrection
Decades later, Making Contact found new life when MST3K riffed it on their 2022 tour. Which makes sense—this is a movie begging for mockery. The wooden acting, laughable effects, and Fletcher’s nicotine-stained smirk all add up to comedy gold.
It’s ironic: Emmerich wanted to entertain the masses. He failed in 1985, but thanks to riffing robots in space, his movie finally achieved its destiny—as unintentional comedy.
Final Verdict: Dummy Thick With Disappointment
Joey (Making Contact) is what happens when a filmmaker wants to be Spielberg but ends up channeling Ed Wood. It’s a clumsy mix of horror, fantasy, and family drama that fails on every level: not scary, not touching, not exciting, not even memorably weird—just boring and awkward.
The evil dummy isn’t terrifying. The kid isn’t inspiring. The effects aren’t magical. It’s a film where nothing works, and everyone loses—especially the audience.
Watching Joey is less like seeing a movie and more like being trapped in a child’s bad dream where the only monster is boredom. Fletcher may be the villain onscreen, but the real evil is Roland Emmerich’s early career.
