A Thomas Bess review of:

Directed By: Tom Shankland
Starring: Eva Birthistle, Stephen Campbell Moore, Jeremy Sheffield, Rachel Shelley, Hannah Tointon
Run Time: 84 festively patricidal minutes.
For the sake of full disclosure, let it be known that I cadged the line about “the children are our future…” from an old episode of The Simpsons. And now that no one can accuse me of being a monstrous liar later on (they can still accuse me of being a dorky pop culture sponge, because I am) it should also be known that I love evil kid flicks. Probably started with The Good Son when I was in elementary school (Kevin McCallister vs. Frodo Baggins — awesome) and was summarily compounded by Village of the Damned and Children of the Corn. This particular sub-genre already sorta had an enjoyable entry earlier in the summer with Orphan, but the purist might argue that when the antagonist is actually a (mouse over to read SPOILER) homicidal, middle-aged Russian little person that it should not be included in the ranks of the aforementioned films. So for those of you still craving honest-to-God evil kiddies, might I present to you The Children, a frozen, gory little gem that had me “oooohhhing” in disgusted delight on more than one occasion.
Plot is as follows. It’s after Christmas but before New Years and grown sisters Elaine and Chloe (Birthistle and Shelley) are getting together at the latter’s huge manse in the English countryside with the requisite husbands and rugrats in toe. Aside from the grumbling of Elaine’s teenage daughter Casey (Tointon) everyone’s enjoying themselves and none of the adults happen to notice that one of their bundles of joy has a case of the sniffles that’s making him act a wee bit odd. Faster than you can say “the kids aren’t all right” every pre-pubescent in the house has gone bat-shit insane and set about knocking off their disbelieving parents in exceedingly gruesome ways. Casey, who spends the first act or so being a thoroughly obnoxious pain in the ass, turns out to be the only one to keep a relatively clear head and soon she’s in a battle for survival against a bunch of tykes that look they’ve stepped out of a Gymboree catalog as arranged by Michael Myers.
What’s good? First and foremost, The Children is a starkly beautiful film. We’re treated to numerous shots of snowy forests or fields — at night it’s awash in blues, blacks, silvers and whites, while during the day a glaring overhead sun puts an almost ferocious gleam on everything. It serves as an excellent backdrop for the building tension and when the blood does start to flow, it’s even more startling when presented against all that white. Speaking of gore, the camera doesn’t exactly linger on what befalls the adults (and a few of the kids for that matter) but you see more than enough to elicit some of the gleeful cringes I mentioned earlier. Without spoiling anything I should note that those of you with a thing about breaking limbs will want to watch the monkey bars scene with extreme caution. Oh and who wears big hoop earrings around kids, even when they aren’t homicidal? That’s just silly. On the acting side, everyone does a fine job with their respective roles, especially Hannah Tointon, who manages to make Casey a cheerable Survivor Girl before all is said and done. I usually tend to have a problem with movies where I can’t identify the main characters by name after more than ten minutes in and with The Children I wasn’t sure who everyone was until past the halfway point, but it never came across as shorting the characters. The earlier, happier parts of the holiday manage to suck the viewer into the chaos so that while you might not be exactly positive who everyone in the house is, you know they’re family and you’re glad to be a part of the fun. And of course that makes what happens to them later on so damned terrible.
What’s not so good? My few complaints are mostly about the narrative itself, only one is technical and it’s only a few seconds in one scene but it was so jarringly annoying it needs to be mentioned. Throughout the course of the story there’s no discussion about the “why” of the children’s change — that there’s a disease spreading among them is eventually revealed to the (surviving) adults and it’s more than clear to the audience, thanks to hollow-eyed sniffling and the occasional bout of vomiting from the infected. Why then, is there a bit where it fades from a shot of one of the kids to a National Geographic style view of bacteriological “somethings” going nuts under a microscope? It doesn’t fit with anything else in the film and felt shoehorned in there, probably some producer demanded it in post to make sure the audience damned well knew there were germs going around. The incredulous nature of the parents left something to be desired as well. Now certainly, I understand that no one wants to believe their little precious is capable of murder, but when they all start wailing like banshees and one attempts to slice you open, wouldn’t ya, you know, send them to their room at the very least? Let this be a lesson. Get too permissive and your kids will kill you. Oh and what the hell is with the police response time in the UK? I mean, I know the joke in horror films is that they always get there five minutes too late, but they never even show up here.
Should you see it? A quote on the back of the box declares it one of the best horror films of the decade and the more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to agree. It’s certainly the best addition to the evil kid genre I’ve seen in a very long time. If you’re a fan of gorgeous, gory, fare brimming with atmosphere and populated with characters you’ll actually feel for…well, in the immortal words of Helen Lovejoy, “Won’t someone please think of The Children?”
Til next time, always remember that the calls are coming from inside the house.
Tom Bess has sideburns that are so big they might be considered a beard shaving accident from afar. He blames his current mental state on Stephen King, Mike Nelson, Seth McFarlane and Vince McMahon but bears them no ill will. He passes his time writing movie reviews, but will flee the interwebs forever as soon as Allison Mack starts returning his calls.



I like in The Good Son when ‘Kevin McCallister’ say’s the F word. that changed my life forever when I was a kid. totally awesome!