Chucky is, without a doubt, one of the major modern horror icons. He’s more than earned his place among the likes of Freddy, Jason, Michael, Leatherface and the rest and he has now been given the same remake treatment all of them saw years ago. But there are also some interesting things that separate Chucky from the rest of these icons, especially as his series has gone on. One of them directly leads into the other, and that’s the fact that unlike most franchises—with notable exceptions like Phantasm—Chucky has had one distinctive voice really steering the ship from the beginning. It was Don Mancini who created the concept and wrote the original Child’s Play script, and even though it was heavily rewritten by director Tom Holland, Mancini’s been the one writing every sequel, even going behind the camera to direct the last three installments.

I think having the voice of its creator remain consistent throughout the years has helped the Child’s Play franchise to evolve over time, and it’s also helped to give Chucky the one thing very few long-running horror villains get to have: character development. There’s a great balancing act throughout the series, as each film is always so different from the one before it, but Chucky is always Chucky. At the same time, though, he goes through changes. Even if they’re subtle, even if he retains everything that made us love that character in the first place, the changes are abundantly clear. It’s hard to imagine the Chucky we saw in the original smoking weed on camera or trying to connect with his genderqueer child, but we never question that it’s the same character.

Because of the richness of this character development and the different directions the story has taken over time, there’s a lot of room for the interpretation of themes that continue to pop up in the movies that audience members like myself can’t not see. In particular, there’s been one constant theme throughout Chucky’s evolution as a character from movie to movie, one that begins in the very first Child’s Play and truly comes to a close in Cult of Chucky, and that’s Chucky’s ongoing struggle with the concept of masculinity.

Chucky, in terms of his personality, is one of the most aggressively masculine horror villains we’ve ever seen. He’s not by any stretch asexual like Jason or Michael, nor is he as predatory as Freddy, he’s just an obnoxious, loud-mouthed and misogynistic character pretty much from the moment he starts talking. When Karen Barclay finally gets him to reveal himself and speak with his own voice in the original Child’s Play, one of the first words to come out his mouth is “bitch.” And while this is not unexpected behavior from someone dubbed the Lakeshore Strangler, it’s also—as I think is evidenced throughout the films—largely a front. It’s grandstanding. It’s something Charles Lee Ray needs to do; whatever he can to come off as a man now that he is stuck in the body of an androgynous doll.

That personality is something he tries to play up, something he always tries to showcase, especially in the early movies. In Child’s Play 2, Andy really has two figures battling for the dominant male role model in his life, and both of them happen to hate him. Those are of course Chucky and new foster dad, Phil. Chucky buckles down on this new approach. His misogynistic language is even more explicit than in the first film—“Goddamn women drivers!” particularly comes to mind—but even smaller lines like “How’s it hanging, Phil?” reach the same effect. At the same time, Chucky is even more desperate to get his soul out of the doll’s body and into Andy’s. The two things are directly related, because the overly masculine persona that Chucky tries to project is a direct result of his inability to reconcile with the fact that he is now a doll with no physical illusions of masculinity.

Honestly, Child’s Play 3 might be the movie that deals with these themes best, as it moves them to the forefront. Here, it’s not just Chucky’s struggle, although that ongoing theme is given a tighter focus due to the nature of the sequel in general. Child’s Play 3 is of course set at a military academy and truly the entire film comments on masculinity, tough guy tropes and gender roles in a very interesting way. Because of that, it’s just in general a much smarter and better sequel than it’s given credit for. This is a movie in which the trained, aggressive, over-confident tough guys are the cannon fodder. The most traditionally masculine types are the ones who get cut down, while our actual heroes are the least traditionally masculine characters in the film. Andy’s a struggling, nervous teen famous for playing with his doll. Tyler is still playing with dolls which the Colonel notes are “for girls.” Whitehurst is the most relentlessly picked on character in the whole movie, but gives his life to save not only his friends but the people who constantly bully him as well. And then De Silva, the most capable, confident badass at the school, is a woman.

Chucky’s struggle with masculinity truly becomes a struggle in Child’s Play 3, where it’s impossible to keep up any illusions about being a tough guy when he’s surrounded by guys who embody the trope. That propels his ongoing need to get out of that body and into another, this time Tyler’s. It’s worth pointing out that Chucky doesn’t snap and feel the need to take out the school’s would-be soldiers until De Silva and her friend put lipstick on him and call him pretty. That’s the thing that does it. That’s what leads Chucky to grimace and say, “This means war.”

Child’s Play 3 also brings another part of Chucky’s struggle with masculinity to the forefront, something he had been struggling with since the very first film. In a bizarre scene where Andrew Robinson’s Sgt. Botnick tries to give Chucky a “trim,” Chucky kills the barber rather than letting him touch his hair, even though it’s one of the few things that could possibly make the doll look more masculine. This side of Chucky is fascinating because it’s completely at odds with the masculine persona he always tries to convey. It’s never something he tries to acknowledge, but it’s been there the whole time.

While it’s a small detail, one of the biggest things to challenge Chucky’s misogynistic and aggressively masculine demeanor comes right in the original Child’s Play. When they go to investigate his apartment, there is a mural depicting the human Charles Lee Ray kneeling naked and submissive before his mentor, John. Whether this was simply a part of the ritual or there was a sexual relationship between the two men is unclear. It could very well have been both. But to see a painting depicting Ray naked on his knees in front of John is almost beyond suggestive.

If you go by the timeline of flashbacks, then this more private, less traditionally masculine side of Charles Lee Ray goes back even further. As Curse of Chucky reveals, the notion of family had been on his mind long before he got married in Bride. Chucky was obsessed with Nica’s mother and even kidnapped her just before his death, hoping that they would all be one big happy family. It’s an obsessive side we’d never seen from him before, something that could likely only ever come out in private between Ray and his victim. It is, for sure, an obsessive and delusional stalker quality that men often embody, but it’s nonetheless completely removed from the “tough guy” personality that Chucky always tries to adhere to.

Bride of Chucky doesn’t do a ton to further Chucky’s struggle with masculinity except for giving us those quiet moments with Tiffany. Up to that point, it’s for sure the most time we had ever spent with Chucky as a character. And at first, he’s exactly the Chucky we’ve always known him to be; brash and crude and sadistic, killing the woman who repaired him and wanted to marry him. He really doesn’t open up to Tiffany in any way at all until she’s also a doll, literally bringing her down to his level. Part of what could very well have made Chucky take everything Tiffany said to him as a human so personally is of course the fact that here’s a doll who’s been trying to cling to illusions that he’s still the same tough guy he was—even if he may never have been—and here’s someone he can’t possibly keep up that illusion with. When the two dolls embark on their road trip, not only do we see moments of Chucky professing his love, but even moments of genuine apology for all of the ways he’s treated her in the past. In typical Chucky fashion, of course, he still tries to kill her at the end.

Seed of Chucky obviously brings this struggle back to the forefront of the franchise in a much clearer way, as Chucky and Tiffany are introduced to their genderfluid child, Glen. At first, Chucky is adamant that Glen is a boy. He tries to concretely presuppose his kid’s gender, trying to bond with “guy” activities like taking the boy hunting, which obviously means murder when your dad is Chucky. By the end, though, Chucky does come to realize that Glen’s identity isn’t theirs to decide.

Not coincidentally, I think, this is literally just about the same time that Chucky finally comes to terms with himself. Finally having the opportunity to rid himself of the Good Guy body once and for all, having just openly accepted Glen’s identity, Chucky finally admits that he enjoys being Chucky. He comes to terms with the fact that he is this androgynous doll and finally embraces this as who he is. Once again, because this is Chucky, this progress is still kind of undone by hacking up both the child and their mother.

The end of Seed of Chucky still showcases huge progress for the character, though. In fact, that progress is evident over the course of the next two movies. Chucky doesn’t stop being the Chucky we all know and love, but there’s a comfort level with simply being Chucky that comes through in both Curse and Cult. Sure, it’s easy to get under his skin by pointing out his male completion anxiety, but the repeated attempts to rid himself of the doll and resume or relive his life as a man are finally out the door. Chucky’s not looking for a permanent way out anymore. Ironically, that also makes the spells easier to perform, apparently, as Chucky in both movies manages to take over other bodies for the sake of momentary convenience.

Although it should not be the last entry and Mancini should still be allowed to continue his vision for these characters he created and has continued to shape for over thirty years, Cult of Chucky nonetheless brings the killer doll’s struggle with masculinity, with this need to cling to an idea of manhood, full circle. By the end of that movie, we find Chucky in Nica’s body, comfortably walking out of the film in a woman’s skin and leaving the weight of masculinity completely behind him.

To be clear, I’m not remotely calling this trans representation. I don’t think there’s ever been any attempt or intent to portray Chucky as trans. But this is a franchise that has taken jabs at gender roles, male archetypes and general ideas of masculinity from the very beginning. This is a series that has constantly questioned and re-evaluated gender. The themes have always been there, and they’ve often been noticed in characters like Glen, Kyle or Andy. As hopefully evidenced, though, this struggle with masculinity, and the questioning of it, have always been extremely central to the core of Chucky himself.

It’s a struggle that proves him to be a horror icon who has gotten to show what so few other franchise villains have ever really gotten to have, and what would seem least likely for the possessed killer doll out of any of them. He has, against all odds and over the course of seven movies, shown genuine growth.