There’s yet more gory family trouble in 2008’s British chiller The Children from director Tom Shankland. I find I’m enjoying the horror flicks so far, if only because these films seem to be a fertile breeding ground for cool ideas and this one is no exception. Picture the scene, if you will – what do you do when the savage monsters pursuing you are your own cute, cuddly children?
That’s the premise in this fun if silly film, as two upper class families gather at a remote estate during the Christmas holidays. They’re looking forward to a bit of bonding and relaxation, but Christmas is cancelled when the children contract a disease that turns them into brutal, murderous psychopaths. It’s entertaining stuff, full of inspired scares and some really questionable parenting decisions.
Moody teenager Casey (Hannah Tointon) already kinda hates her parents, but when her younger adorable moppet siblings develop a moody, blank-eyed stare and attack the grown-ups, it is genuinely shocking. I mean, how do you fight off your own angelic rugrats when they come at you with pointy instruments of death?
I have a few suggestions – hit them with a pillow? Trip them up? Dropkick them? Just knock them out? The terrified parents in this film, of course, do none of those things, preferring to fight back with their own sharp, pointy things, which is riveting, if wholly unlikely. Watching this is a laugh, but I can’t believe for one second that anyone would arm themselves with a stabby knife to protect themselves from a five year old, especially one that’s ill.
This is a film that is very fond of sharp, stabby things, with some clever direction that makes you think you’ve seen more horrific things than you actually have. This is very effective at times but also a little disorienting and muddled at others. The film also makes good on the promise of its title, with plenty of kiddie playthings utilised as instruments of death, from colouring pencils to climbing frames to bright yellow teepees, with all these innocuous things suddenly imbued with insidious malice. The effects are satisfyingly gnarly, with the victims’ boo-boos looking and feeling real and excruciatingly painful.
Scenes with a creepy child continuously striking a toy xylophone while blankly staring off into the distance is unsettling but may strike a chord with many parents - kids can sometimes be disconcertingly weird. I watch this around the same time Amelia’s nursery contact us to say they’re a bit concerned about how much time she spends on ‘imaginary play.’ We’re not so sure there’s much to be worried about, while at the same time I recognise my reaction mirrors those of the protective parents in The Children. You’ll always be anxious about your kids, but the initial reaction to anything like this is usually to get angry and refuse to accept there’s anything wrong.
Kids, let’s face it, can be odd and there are times when you never really know what the heck is going on in their little heads. Though you probably don’t expect them to try and decapitate you with a sled.
The snowy, frosty country backdrop works very well to create a sinister atmosphere and this is a rare horror film that functions perfectly well for being set during the daytime. I suspect the sprogs probably couldn’t work past their bedtimes.
This one, like a lot of horror, is a lot more fun if you check your brain in at the door, being as it is filled with people making ridiculous decisions. The child actors are fantastic, giving authentic, nightmare-inducing turns, but the grown-ups never totally convince with their characters doing dumb stuff, like having a full-on argument about parenting skills, while a family member lies bleeding to death in the snow.
I’m sure this one can be treated as a bit of wish-fulfilment fantasy for plenty of parents whose kids drive them up the wall during the school holidays and would love an excuse to give them a good stabbing. However, I end up feeling more sorry for the children, which I’m not sure was the film-makers’ intention. Either way, it’s mostly solid, brainless, bloody fun that may make you ponder whether you could suplex your own little bundle of joy if they were to come at you with the gardening shears.
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