CHILDREN OF THE CORN lacks both mood and menace
Children of the Corn
Written and Directed by Kurt Wimmer
Starring Elena Kampouris, Kate Moyer, Callan Mulvey, and Bruce Spence
Rated R
Runtime: 92 minutes
In theaters March 3, on demand and digital March 21
by Clayton Hayes, Staff Writer
Children of the Corn, finally seeing wide theatrical release on March 3rd after limited screenings in October 2020, is an intriguing film. Though not an unequivocal success, I do feel that it is successful in shrugging off the troubled legacy of Fritz Kiersch’s poorly-received 1984 adaptation of the Stephen King short story. This most recent version takes King’s tale as inspiration but tracks backward, exploring an incident that could have led to the events of the story (and in Kiersch’s adaptation). In present-day rural Nebraska, in the fictional town of Rylstone (an actual small town in New South Wales, Australia, where filming took place), Boleyn “Bo” Williams (Kampouris) is a teenager on the verge of leaving for college. And none too soon, it would seem, with the town’s corn crops blighted and the adults of the town giving off some pretty bad vibes.
Enter Eden (Moyer), a younger orphan who was taken in by the town’s pastor (Spence) after a tragic incident at her children’s home left everyone dead but her. While Bo’s father (Mulvey) is hoping to revitalize the local economy by convincing what few farmers remain to plow their corn fields under, Eden has other plans. Having spent the days after the incident wandering the town’s cornfields alone, her plans for the town definitely require keeping the corn in place. If you’re familiar with even the broadest strokes of previous versions of the story (and I assume nearly everyone is at this point), you can probably guess what’s coming next.
I appreciated the brisk 92-minute runtime and felt the film was successful in updating the story to the present day, with the corn blight being blamed on the Monsanto-esque “GrowSynth” and its dealing with smartphones rather neatly, the film’s script isn’t exactly tight. Aside from some plot elements that felt very contrived, there were just a few too many threads in the film’s plot that didn’t go anywhere. It’s odd for a film this short to feel overstuffed, and a bit surprising given that Wimmer’s writing credits stretch back to 1998, but that was the impression I walked away with.
I think it was a mistake to push the story away from the overt religiosity of King’s original work, which was heavy with Christian iconography, because the leftovers that do make it through never feel very convincing. When Eden and her followers talk about “sinning against the corn” and “He Who Walks” it feels more silly than threatening. Making Moyer’s Eden feel menacing is admittedly not an easy task, but the camera never seemed to be invested in this goal. In fact, most of the sequences intended to terrify felt pretty lackluster. The cinematography felt too frenetic and claustrophobic to build any real sense of menace; with a story that seems tailor-made for moody, expansive folk horror, Children of the Corn was shot like a slasher.
Finally, though I must give credit to the folks in front of the lens (Kampouris and Moyer both acquit themselves quite well, I thought), I have to wonder about the choices that went into the people we don’t see. It’s commendable that Children of the Corn’s two primary roles are both girls, a welcome shift from both King’s and Kiersch’s versions, only two women are in the above-the-line crew: co-executive producer Keri Nakamoto and the Australian casting director Amanda Mitchell. Notably, all of the high-level crew roles with an impact on story were filled by men. It’s a shame that this is still the case, especially in a film centered on the experiences of two young women, and it sours what is otherwise a mostly-enjoyable low-budget horror film.